by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER XVIII
A STRANGE MESSAGE
“Too worried to eat,” spoke Hiram Dobbs to himself at supper time. “Toobusy to do any sleeping to-night.”
Dusk had settled down over the International grounds as he salliedforth after an impatient hour spent in waiting for darkness. He lockedthe hangar, and turned in the direction of the Syndicate camp.
“Slow, and cautious, and sure,” murmured Hiram. “I’ve got plenty oftime, and I must be careful not to muddle matters through any haste.It’s Borden, first and foremost. When I locate him I’ll find some wayto attract his attention.”
Hiram followed the fence, keeping away from casual pedestrians andcrowds. He passed the hangar next in the line to the Syndicate camp.About to approach nearer, Hiram stretched himself carelessly along aslanting fence support as though taking a rest, for a man was comingtowards him. It was one of the “White Wings” battalion, Hiram at oncemade out. The man wore the white khaki uniform of the men supposed tokeep the grounds in order. He had a pronged stick, and slung at hisside a light but deep basket.
Whenever he came to a piece of paper, rags, or the like, he would spearthe same, and transfer it to his basket. Daytimes the sanitary squadkept the streets in order. Early in the evening they went aboutgathering up the refuse that littered the grounds.
Hiram decided to wait till the man got out of the way before heapproached nearer to the Syndicate camp. He noticed that the man had anuncertain gait. He missed spearing several pieces of paper. One thewind kept scurrying along every time he neared it. Hiram would havebeen amused at any other time. Finally, in trying to corner a whirlingfragment of paper, the man stumbled and fell flat, the basket on top ofhim.
“Here, let me help you,” proffered Hiram.
“That you, Palen?” spoke a sharp voice, as the unfortunate man wasmumbling out his thanks to Hiram. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Hiram turned to observe one of the lieutenants in charge of thegrounds-workers.
“Late again, and in a fine condition, aren’t you?” demanded thenewcomer in a stern, censuring tone. “You’re discharged, do you hear?You’ve been careless for the last two days.”
“Yes, sir—bad cold. Not feelin’ well. Don’t like this job anyhow,” theman mumbled.
“Well, get through with your work, if you’ve sense enough to do it, anddraw your pay. We can’t have your kind around here.”
The official walked away with these words. His subordinate steadiedhimself against a fence-support, and watched the other disappear. Thenhe threw the spear-stick to the ground, tossed the basket after it andmuttered glumly:
“All right. Sick of the place anyhow. I’ll do no more work!”
Hiram had been casually interested in the episode. Suddenly itsuggested an idea to his quick mind. He took a dollar bill from hispocket.
“Say, my friend,” he spoke, “I like exercise. You lend me your jacketand hat, and I’ll give you that, and do the rest of your work.”
“Well!” murmured the man stolidly. “Must have lots of money to waste itthat way. That’s a bargain. Leave the old coat and hat where they’llfind it, will you? There you are,” and the speaker divested himself ofthe bulk of his uniform, and went off with the dollar, chucklinggleefully.
Hiram waited till the man was out of sight. Then he went to the side ofa path and proceeded to daub his hands and face with dust. The clumsyjacket came nearly to his knees. The hat was helmet-shaped. It dippedboth front and rear and well shadowed his face.
“I think I’ll do. I can surely pass for what I pretend to be, if Idon’t get where it’s too light,” decided Hiram.
A more industrious “white wings” never worked on the Internationalgrounds. Hiram seemed to have eyes for every stray fragment of rubbish.He boldly invaded the precincts of the Syndicate camp. Just insideseveral hangar’s men were playing cards, smoking and conversing.
“I don’t see anything of Mr. Borden,” soliloquized Hiramdisappointedly. “There’s Worthington, though, and his special man,Valdec.”
The humble, dust-covered grounds-man picking up rubbish, suggestednothing suspicious to the two men, as Hiram poked around a bench onwhich they were seated engrossed in earnest conversation. Hiram spearedan empty cigarette box not three feet away from the foot of Valdec. Heapproached close to the side of the bench making a great ado ofkneeling, and picking up the fragments of a torn programme of the meet.
“Yes, I’ve got the altitude stunt fixed for good,” he overheard Valdecobserve.
“How is that,” inquired the big Syndicate manager.
“A dummy barograph,” chuckled the trick aeronaut. “Oh, I’ll beat tenthousand feet easy as pie! The _Ariel_ might have made it, but—pouf!We’ve got that off our minds, more’s the luck! You’re sure there’s nochance of Dashaway coming on the scene to spoil things?”
“Dashaway won’t get away,” coarsely laughed Worthington. “I sent Bordendown with Terry to double the guard on him this afternoon.”
Some one hailed the manager just then and the talk ended. Hiram’sspirits drooped. Borden had been sent away from the meet before hecould get any further word to the _Ariel_ hangar. For some time Hiramhung around, hoping to overhear some indication as to the place wherehis chum was undoubtedly held a captive. His energy was unrewarded, andhe returned to his own hangar.
“I know two things,” he reflected, but disconsolately, as he tossedrestlessly in bed some hours later. “Dave is alive—the _Ariel_ is gone.Another thing; we won’t be in this meet. Poor Dave! How will it allcome out?”
Hiram was fairly frantic when the next day passed, and there was noword from Bruce. The next morning he had decided to proceed to see Mr.Brackett himself, fearing that something had happened to his messenger,when Bruce himself appeared.
“What news? Quick!” spoke Hiram, in great excitement. “What kept you?”
“I was delayed. Mr. Brackett was away until yesterday afternoon. Helistened to my story and asked me a hundred questions. Then he sent anote to you. Here it is.”
Hiram was so eager and anxious that he fairly tore a folded sheet fromthe hand of Bruce. Quickly his eyes scanned its contents.
And thus it read:
“Go right on, the same as if Dashaway and the _Ariel_ were ready forthe contest.”
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