by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER XIII
A REMARKABLE EXPLANATION
The _Ariel_ had found a landing place where some short crisp grasscovered a spot bare of trees and rocks. Hiram brought the _Scout_ to ahalt not twenty feet away. He shut off the power, leaped out andapproached Dave. The latter stood by the side of his machine watchingthe police officer who had run to the edge of the gully.
“Dave, this has been a startler; hasn’t it?” exclaimed Hiram.
“You are one of the wisest boys in the world,” spoke the young airman.“Without that spark signal we should never have got a start on yourtrail.”
“Has it done any good, after all?” questioned Hiram. “My passenger hasgot into deeper trouble; hasn’t he?”
“It looks that way,” answered Dave. “We saw him stumble over that ledgeyonder.”
“Maybe it was a trick,” suggested Hiram. “He’s a bad one, I can tellyou.”
“Here comes the policeman. Any trace of him, officer?”
The recent passenger of the _Ariel_ looked serious. He held in his handa dark lantern, the rays of which, the others had noticed, he had beenflashing over the edge of the gully.
“Got a rope?” he asked.
“I have one, in the _Scout_. Always carry it,” volunteered Hirambriskly and he ran to his machine and returned with the coil inquestion.
“The fellow won’t run any further away from us this time,” advised thepoliceman. “He’s lying on a shelf of rock about twelve feet down. Bothof you can help me.”
The boys followed him. They took a look over the edge of the gully astheir leader flashed his lantern down. There, plainly visible, was therecent passenger of the _Scout_.
“He’s insensible, or dead,” spoke the officer in a callous,professional tone. “He must have landed head first. We must get him uphere. I want a look at those sparklers.”
The man’s word grated harshly on both Dave and Hiram. They proceeded,however, to follow the directions of the officer. The rope was notheavy, but was very strong, being reinforced with strands of flexiblewire.
It took them nearly fifteen minutes to lower the policeman and hoist,first the injured man and then the officer, to the surface. As thefugitive lay extended motionless upon the grass the officer inspectedhim with the aid of the dark lantern.
“None of his limbs seem broken,” he reported, “but he got a terrificcrack on his head. I’ve seen a good many cases of such hurts, and Iguess this fellow has run his last race.”
“Can’t we do something for him?” asked Dave solicitously.
“Say,” broke in Hiram, “I see the lights of a settlement over to thewest there. It can’t be more than a mile away.”
“You had better reach it, then,” suggested Dave.
“Yes, and get them to send a wagon, or an ambulance, for this man,”added the policeman.
Dave helped his assistant get the Scout off the ground, its pilotmarking with his eye closely the main points in the landscape. Thus hewould be able to pretty accurately direct those who came after theinjured man. The minute the officer was satisfied that nothing could bedone to add to the comfort or safety of their charge until aid arrived,he proceeded to examine the pockets of his insensible prisoner.
The young aeronaut considered this rather a heartless proceeding, butrealized that the officer was acting in pursuance of his duty. Twice hewent over every pocket and possible secret hiding place in the clothingof the fugitive. He finally arose to his feet with a baffled and angryexpression of face.
“He’s beat us!” he growled. “I fancied he was getting away with hisbooty—but it was getting away from me and my partner that he was after.”
“But what has become of the diamonds you spoke about?” queried Dave.
“Got rid of them to some partner, I suppose, before we finally ran himdown,” was the explanation. “It’s too bad to miss the big reward thatwe’d have got.”
Hiram returned in half an hour. He had made a brief and rapid trip.
“A sheriff and his men will soon be here with an auto,” he reported,and a very few minutes after that the machine in question halted nearthe spot. A surgeon had accompanied the village officers. He shook hishead as he looked over his patient.
“He won’t live the night out,” he announced with professionalcertainty. “Concussion of the brain, and a very serious case.”
The city policeman accompanied the auto back to the village. Before hedid so, however, he wrote something on a card and handed it to Dave.
“If you will take that card, and your bill for the clever work you’vedone, to police headquarters, they’ll treat you right,” he said.
“Queer about those diamonds, isn’t it, Dave?” spoke Hiram as they foundthemselves alone with their machines. “Maybe the man dropped them inrunning, or they went over into that gully.”
“It would be like hunting for a needle in a haystack to try and findthem,” declared the young airman.
Excitement and trying work at the wheel had worn them out considerably,and they were glad when they crept into their beds at headquarters anhour later. Hiram overslept himself. He awoke late the next morning, inthe room they occupied jointly at the grounds clubhouse, to find hischum missing. He hurried his breakfast and was soon at the hangar. Ashe neared it he noticed some one seated on a stool inside it. Dave hadthe _Ariel_ outside and was tanking up with “juice,” as they called thegasoline.
“Some one to see you, Hiram,” he announced, nodding his head towardsthe garage.
“Who is it?” asked his mate curiously.
“He didn’t give his name, but he’s a boy. Says he knows you.”
“Is that so?” returned Hiram musingly, and advanced towards the garage.Then his face expanded in a welcoming good natured way. A lad about hisown age was seated with his back to the door and seemed to be eagerlyinspecting the little _Scout_ and the mechanical accessories belongingto it. “Why, Bruce Beresford, hello!” Hiram shouted suddenly.
“Eh—oh, excuse me, yes, it’s me,” answered the visitor, springing upwith a nervous start, and his anxious face brightened as Hiram gave hishand a friendly shake.
Hiram drew back a step or two, and with apparent admiration looked overin a quizzical way the lad he had so signally befriended in the past.
“Well,” he observed, “you’re looking more prosperous than when I lastsaw you.”
“Oh, yes,” replied Bruce Beresford, his whole face lighting up. “I’vehad such wonderful luck!”
“You look it, and I’m glad,” said Hiram. His friend of the swampyisland certainly showed a great improvement, with good shoes on hisfeet, and wearing a neat suit of clothes. When Hiram had first met himBruce had worn a big cap pulled closely down over his ears, clear tothe nape of his neck. Just now, too, Hiram observed that his head backof his cheeks was well covered up. It gave Bruce a rather uncouthappearance and the young pilot of the Scout wondered why.
“I hope I’m not acting as if I was imposing on you, coming in on you inthis way, and so soon,” began Bruce.
“Didn’t I invite you to do just that?” challenged Hiram.
“I know, but it looks sort of—well, cheeky, following you up when I oweso much to you as it is.”
“Don’t bother about that,” advised Hiram. “Tell me about that luck ofyours. I’ll be interested.”
“Well, you know how I got little Lois comfortably settled at thatchildren’s home at Benham. Then I started in to work. It was surprisinghow many little odd jobs a fellow can pick up who tries. I was justdelighted, until the second day of my work when I happened to see anewspaper from Hillsboro—that is the town where Martin Dawson, the manwho abused us so terribly, lives. There, in the paper, was anadvertisement offering a reward for a runaway boy.”
“Meaning yourself, I suppose?” questioned Hiram.
“No one else. It scared me, I tell you, because—because,” and thespeaker flushed up, and Hiram noticed that he ran his hand over th
eback of his head in a conscious sort of a way and seemed embarrassed.“Well, because there was a very good description of how I looked,” wasadded in a quick short breath.
“Thought they’d be after you, eh?” asked Hiram.
“I knew they would and that I wasn’t safe in that section,” proceededBruce. “I felt sure that sooner or later some one would suspect oridentify me. It wasn’t safe for my sister. I didn’t know what to do,for what little I had earned wouldn’t take us far. Then came my bigluck,” and the face of the speaker became radiant.
“Tell it,” directed Hiram, on the edge with curiosity.
“Some one had stolen an automobile from the village banker,” went onBruce. “I had heard of it. I had read the posters giving the number andmake of the machine, and offering a hundred dollars as a reward for itsrecovery. Just think of it! that very day an invalid lady I had choppedsome wood for, asked me if I could get her a bunch of water lilies. Imade a few inquiries of some boys I met. They directed me to a swampabout two miles from the town. I found a fine bed of the lilies, andwas wading out with an armful, when down among a nest of reeds, whereit had been run by the ride-stealers was the missing automobile.”
“That was fine,” remarked Hiram. “I guess you got back to town on thedouble quick.”
“I did for a fact,” agreed Bruce. “And inside of two hours I had thereward in my pocket. Oh but I felt rich! I went to the matron of thehome and told her my whole story for the first time. She not onlythought I had better get Lois to some safer place, and further awayfrom Hillshore, but gave me a letter to a relative living on a farmnear Chicago. I got some new clothing for my sister and myself, leftLois with the kind-hearted lady who was only too glad to take her in attwo dollars a week, and her help around the house, and hunted down theaddress you gave me. You see—you see,” concluded Bruce longingly, “Iwanted advice.”
“What about?” inquired Hiram.
“Well I’ve got over fifty dollars to invest. There’s a good deal movingaround this place. You spoke of a friend, a Mr. Dashaway, and Ithought——”
“Yes, that’s my chum, Dave,” interrupted Hiram proudly,—“the most levelheaded fellow who ever lived. Dave!”
Hiram called his chum and there was an introduction. An explanationfollowed. The pilot of the _Ariel_ soon had a knowledge of all thecircumstances of the case. He and Hiram had seated themselves on abench opposite their guest. It was warm weather and both threw offtheir caps. Bruce hesitated and then followed their example, but in anawkward and confused way.
“Why,” exclaimed Hiram with a start, as he noticed that under his captheir visitor wore a close fitting skull cap—“what’s that for?”
Bruce Beresford fidgeted. He seemed at a loss for an explanation. Thenhe scanned the friendly face of Dave, and the good natured one of hisassistant.
“Well, it’s my ears,” he said, slowly, evidently embarrassed.
“Your ears; what about them?” asked Dave, curiously.
“They’ve been cut,” explained the orphan. “And they’re not healed yet.I keep them covered up to keep out the germs the doctor said werefloating in the air. But they’re getting better now.”
He took off the skull cap and showed where both ears presented a redsurface.
“How in the world did that happen?” asked Hiram. “Have you been playingfootball?”
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