by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW HELPER
Bruce replaced the cap back over his injured ears and smiled at his twofriends.
“No, not exactly football,” he replied. “It was worse than that.”
“Whew!” whistled Dave. “You must have been ‘up against it,’ as Bordenwould say.”
“Up against a grindstone; yes,” assented Hiram. “Go ahead, Bruce, andlet’s hear about it.”
“It’s a long story about how my father died, and how Martin Dawson gothold of his estate,” began the homeless orphan. “I’ll tell you all theparticulars of that some time, and maybe you can advise me, and help usto get our rights. Old Martin Dawson has treated me meanly. He hired meout to all kinds of hard work, and half-starved me, and kept me inrags. As I told Hiram when I first met him, Mr. Dawson had a regularset of bad men around him. They were all rough characters. There wasone fellow who traveled with circus shows. His name was Wertz. It wasabout two years ago when Mr. Dawson farmed me out to him. Wertz triedto train me for the trapeze, but I wasn’t limber enough for that. Thenhe said he would use me in his knife-throwing act. He made me standagainst a wooden shield while he threw knives at me. I’ve got two badscars on my body now, where he missed, and the knives cut into me. Thenone day when practicing he clipped off a little piece of my right ear.I ran away from him then, but he got me back. I made him agree thatafter that he wouldn’t aim at my head, only my arms and the rest of mybody. One night at a circus, though, he got reckless. He aimed at myear—the left one—intending to set a circle of knives all around myhead. One clipped my other ear, as you have seen. It hurt dreadfully,and I fainted away. The audience was roused up about it, and the humanesociety got after Wertz and he ran away. Then I went back to Mr.Dawson. A doctor fixed up my ears, but they are not quite healed yet.”
This story aroused the sympathy and interest of Dave, and he decided toemploy Bruce. The watchman, Dennis, was called away by a partner to acountry fair and Bruce was installed as watchman in his place. Theyoung airman knew he could trust him and he found Bruce willing andgrateful.
“You see,” proceeded Hiram, “it’s only six days to the meet. Monday thecontests begin, and we want to get everything in ship-shape order.”
“That is true,” agreed Dave. “What is it you have to suggest, Hiram?”
The latter drew from his pocket a double printed sheet and handed it toDave.
“I got one of the first programmes,” explained Hiram.
Dave scanned it casually. He had been informed in advance, as had mostof the entrants, of the nature of the various contests. Towards thelast, however, something new and unexpected met his glance.
“‘Mail delivered—twenty stations, minimum altitude two hundredfeet’—what does that mean?” and he looked keenly at his assistant asthe latter began to laugh and chuckle.
“That, Dave,” answered Hiram with a great deal of satisfaction, andsome pride—“that means me.”
“Oh!” observed quick-witted Dave, thinking back, and guessing hard,“those leather bags——”
“You’ve hit it,” acquiesced Hiram. “The idea came to me while we werepracticing at the Midlothian field. I reckoned it wouldn’t be hard towork up the management to including a mail delivery feature in theprogramme, so I set to practicing. And I’ve been at it on the sly eversince,” added the speaker with a laugh.
“Go ahead, Hiram,” encouraged Dave. “You don’t usually stop half way,and you have got more than that to tell.”
“Why, yes, I have,” admitted Hiram. “When I was a boy—I mean a reallittle fellow—I was always good at pitching quoits, and such things. Iwas the local champion at ‘Duck on the Rock.’ I saw an article in thenewspapers discussing the idea of establishing an airship route todeliver mail bags. I practiced. First, Dave, I was going to tell you,and have you work up the idea. Then I thought how busy you wereand—well, I’ll wager you I can win the twenty point score on the mailfeature over anybody in the contest.”
“Well; twenty points isn’t to be sneezed at,” commented Dave briskly.“It may be a saving clause for us.”
“I suggested that programme number to the management,” went on Hiram.“I showed them the newspaper article about it. Now of course a lot offellows will be getting in trim for it, but don’t forget that I havehad three weeks’ practice ahead of them. Oh, Dave, I forgot tillnow—another thing: I met the policeman you took in the _Ariel_ afterthat diamond robber.”
“What did he say, Hiram?”
“The man died without coming back to consciousness. Those diamonds willnever be found now, unless they locate the partner he passed them to.”
“Have you seen anything of Borden lately?” asked Dave.
“I’ve seen him, in fact I’ve passed right by him at the Syndicate camphalf a dozen times, but he turns away, or scowls at me. It’s part ofhis ‘acting’ you know. He isn’t ready to report to us yet, but I knowhe will when he is ready to do us some good.”
Dave went away alone an hour later for a flight with the _Ariel_ overthe sand dunes.
“It’s a good time to clean house,” suggested Dave to Hiram, beforeleaving, and the latter and Bruce, following his orders, cleared out alot of rubbish that obstructed the garage space. This they proceeded toburn up.
“Here’s a box with a lot of catalogues, and some papers in it,” saidBruce, lifting the article from the top of a barrel.
“Dump them into the fire,” ordered Hiram.
“Maybe they are some good,” suggested Bruce, looking over the litter,and then he uttered so strange a cry that Hiram regarded him curiously.
Bruce had taken from the box and unrolled a sheet of manilla paper. Itwas the one which bore the crayon portrait of the man who had tried toblow up the two airships at the Midlothian grounds.
“Hiram,” spoke Bruce in a quick troubled tone, “where did you get this?I know that man!”
“You do!” exclaimed Hiram, pressing closely to his side. “Who is he?”
“It’s the man I told you about—the knife-thrower, Wertz,” was BruceBeresford’s reply.
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