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Dave Dashaway, the Young Aviator

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<h2 id='chapXIII' class='c001'>CHAPTER XIII</h2> <div class='nf-center-c0'> <div class='nf-center c004'> <div>A START IN BUSINESS</div> </div></div> Dave Dashaway trembled with excitement and pleasure. He was proud and glad the way things had turned out. The aviator noticed the happy look on his face, and nodded encouragingly. “All right,” spoke Mr. Alden. “I see you’ve got first show. Trouble is, our man we depended on, a fellow named Banks, failed us yesterday, and I guess he won’t show up in time for the airship pictures. He is the only one in our crowd who will do what we call the desperate stunts.” “What do you call those?” inquired the airman. “Oh, Banks is a regular acrobat. He’s the man who falls down stairs and gets knocked around in the funny pictures, and jumps from the seaside cliff or is blown up by dynamite in the tragic ones.” “I see.” “Now, like yesterday. The hero had to rescue the drowning heroine in the roaring mill stream. Our young friend here happened along in the nick of time, and did the stunt nobly. None of the rest of the crowd could even swim—this young fellow can, like a fish.” “And now you expect him to fly?” “Hardly that,” was the laughing rejoinder, “but in your exhibition we want to bring in the usual little incidents to make an interesting story, you know, and Getaway here——” “You mean Dashaway.” “Yes, he could work in famously.” “Well, we will see about it,” said Mr. King. “How would you want to begin the pictures?” “The outfit will be here inside of an hour.” “I will be on hand,” promised the aviator. “Come with me, Dashaway. I want to get that telegram to the city.” Dave felt as if he was treading on air. It was in fact the supreme moment of his young life. He did not feel that he had done any grand things, but telling the truth and doing his level best had put him in line with very promising prospects. Mr. King hurried along with his brisk, bustling way, absorbed in the business on his mind. When they reached the office of the grounds, he beckoned Dave to follow him into the little compartment that answered for a telegraph office. “Give me the description you wrote out,” he said. “Good for you, Dashaway,” he added with satisfaction, as he ran his eye over the words Dave had written. “You cover it well. With that tell-tale scar on his face, I think the young rascal who robbed you will be easy to find. All I care for, though, is the medal. He will probably sell that and the watch to some pawnbroker, and a liberal reward will lead the police to find them for me.” “My losing those things is going to cost you a lot of money, Mr. King,” said Dave regretfully. “And suppose that sweater of mine had been found by some dishonest person, or trampled down out of sight in the mud? No, no, Dashaway, I count it a big thing, you’re giving me my first hope of recovering the medal.” Mr. King wrote out a lengthy telegram, ordering it sent, left some instructions with the operator, and went outside again. Here he was immediately surrounded by half a dozen persons. Among them were newspaper reporters seeking information as to the aviator’s plans for the next coming aero meet at Dayton. Professional airmen wanted to discuss the programme ahead. Some agents with airship supplies took up some of his time. It was half an hour before Mr. King got rid of his company. Then he came up to Dave, his watch in his hand. “See here, Dashaway,” he spoke, “I want to ask you a question.” “Yes, sir,” replied Dave attentively. “Do you want to go to work for me?” “Do I!—” faltered Dave. “It’s been my dream ever since I heard of you.” “Good enough. You’re engaged. Go down to the hangars and wait till I come. Hold on,” halting Dave, as he started to obey orders. “I want to say a word. I call it all opportunity, the queer way you have run into my affairs. I like your make up. The last assistant I had played me mean. He’ll lose by it. I’m willing to do a good deal for a fellow who will be loyal to his business. I put big faith in you. Don’t disappoint me.” “Say,” began Dave in a great gulp, and he could not bring the words out, he was so worked up. “I know what you would say,” spoke the airman quickly. “Never feel any different about it than you do at this moment, and there will be no regrets.” “There’s only one thing troubles me, Mr. King,” observed Dave. “What’s that?” “My guardian. I ran away from home.” “Good for you. From what you tell me, that miserly old rascal, Warner, won’t waste any time or money hunting you up. If he does, I think I know how to handle him.” Dave started down the field so filled with joy that he could have shouted out aloud. Up to this time his mind had been so occupied with affairs outside of airships, that he had found no opportunity to view those he had seen in detail. Now he seemed to be a part of the great unique activity surrounding him on every side. “It’s wonderful, it’s grand!” he mused. “Oh, to think of my luck! And the friends I’ve met with!” Dave’s eyes filled with grateful tears. He felt as if suddenly he had found his right place in life and a real home. The thought that he was to see, survey and perhaps handle a real airship thrilled him with gladness. “It will be like getting into some palace of wonders,” he reflected, “and the grand chance to learn from the star man of them all, Mr. King.” Dave hurried by many a group surrounding aeroplane models that would have halted him usually. He was anxious to get to the hangars. He had not yet examined the crack monoplane belonging to his employer. He knew its name, the Aegis, and had got a mere glimpse at its outlines. Now he was free to look it all over. “Hold on there!” To make a short cut to the hangars, Dave had passed between a part of the grandstand and a building where refreshments had been sold during full attendance at the meet. There were not many people around just there, and this short cut took Dave into a still more lonely space. Some one had come up behind him, butted into him forcibly, and sent him up against a wooden platform. “I want to speak to you,” sounded a voice strange to Dave. “You’ve got a nice way of introducing yourself,” began Dave, turning around with some asperity. “Hello, I know you.” “Do? Then there’s no need of any explanations,” jeered his assailant. Dave recognized the latter instantly. It was Jerry Dawson, the boy whose father had visited Mr. King less than two hours previously. Dave had seen this youth only once before. It had been at a distance, too. He knew that sullen, scowling face, however, at once. The boy was taller and older than Dave. He was stockily built, and strong. He stood with his fists raised, blocking Dave in against the platform. “What do you want?” demanded the latter. “I want to ask you a question.” “Ask away.” “Have you gone to work for King?” “What if I have?” “Then you’ve landed in the wrong box, I can tell you that. I’ll stand no fellow cutting in on my rights.” “What do you call your rights?” inquired Dave calmly. “I’ve worked for King ever since the season began. I’ve slaved for him and helped him get the endurance prize.” “Indeed?” remarked Dave trying to suppress a smile. “Now he’s in a muff. He knows he can’t get along without me, but he’s stubborn, and so am I. You leave him alone, and don’t cut in on my job, or I’ll make it warm for you.” “What do you expect I’m going to do?” inquired Dave. “Has King hired you?” “Yes.” “And you’re going to start in with him?” “I am.” “After what I tell you?” “Yes, that won’t make any difference,” said Dave. “Then I’m going to whip you.” “All right.” “You won’t take a warning.” “Not from you.” “Look out!” Dave determined to defend himself. He was no match for the big overgrown bully, but he was cornered, and it was not in his nature to show the white feather on any occasion. “You’re bigger than I,” said Dave, backing to a firmer footing, “but I won’t let you or anybody else browbeat me without cause.” “And I’m bigger than either of you!” roared an intruding voice. “You young bully, make yourself scarce, or I’ll pick you up by the nape of your neck and drop you into that mud puddle over yonder!” <div class='pbb'></div> <hr class='pb c000' /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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