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Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane

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<h2 id="id01077" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XV</h2> <h5 id="id01078">AT THE AERODROME</h5> "That is the machine I want, Mr. Randolph," said Dave Dashaway. It was two days after the young aviator had told his friends at Columbus the name of the person he suspected of stealing the aero-hydroplane, the Drifter from the Interstate Aeroplane Company. Now, he and Hiram and the manager of the Interstate plant stood amid the half hundred or more aero machines that comprised the stock of one of the largest factories in that line in the country. They had left the aero meet at Columbus the evening previous, not, however, until Dave had explained how he came to suspect Jerry Dawson. "It's simple and plain, Mr. King," the young aviator had said. "The badge I bought from the tramp at Bolton was the property of young Dawson." "Sure of that, Dashaway?" Mr. King had inquired. "Oh, yes. The initials are crude, but they certainly stand for 'J. D.' and not 'T. O.' as the tramp thought." An inspection of the duplicate badge by both Mr. King and Hiram satisfied them that Dave's theory was correct. "Another thing," Dave had added—"the coat found on the barb wire top of the factory fence I have seen Jerry wear many a time." "And the card?" pressed Hiram. "The card has some scrawls on it, made by Jerry, I think. It shows a sort of rough outline of the upper lake district here. Some arrows show a straight course due northwest. I believe the Drifter was started on its way over the Canadian border." "And the two men with Jerry?" asked Mr. King. "I can't figure out that they could be anybody but Jerry's father and the man who left Columbus with them—Ridgely." "The man the revenue officer was looking for!" exclaimed Hiram. "The smuggler, as he was called, yes," replied Dave. Mr. King and Hiram indulged in all kinds of conjectures as to the possible motive of the party of three in stealing the aircraft. "The way I figure it out," said Mr. King, "is that this Ridgely wanted to get out of the country knowing that the revenue people were dose on his trail." "Perhaps," agreed Dave thoughtfully. "There's another thing, though." "What's that?" inquired the interested Hiram. "His coming all the way around the lakes to find his friends, the Dawsons, looks as though he had some future scheme in view, with an airship a part of it." "That's so," assented Mr. King. "Well, Dashaway, you have done famously so far in finding out what you have. The Interstate people think the only way to chase the fugitives is with one of their own machines. I don't know anybody better adapted to do just that than yourself." "Thank you, Mr. King," said Dave modestly The two boys left Columbus with pretty clear minds. They had a definite purpose in view, and Mr. King, Dave felt sanguine, would do all that the interests of Mr. Dale required while they were gone. "Say, Dave," spoke Hiram, as they boarded the train bound for Bolton, "this is just like acting out some story, isn't it?" "In a way," acquiesced the young aviator, "only there won't be much acting—it will be real, earnest hard work." "I see that, and I am anxious to do my share," declared Hiram. "You always are, Hiram," said Dave. Now, the morning following, the two aviator friends found themselves at the Interstate factory, where both received a warm welcome from Mr. Randolph. Dave now related to the manager all that he had held back during his first visit to the great plant. "I say, Dashaway, that's simply wonderful," was Mr. Randolph's enthusiastic comment. "Anybody with the genius to gather up all those clews cannot fail to work out this entire case. We shall soon receive some great reports from you." "I hope so," said Dave. "Now then, you and your friend go over to the aerodrome and see which one of our machines there suits you best." It was after Dave and Hiram had spent the most fascinating half hour of their lives viewing the wonders of mechanism on display, that the manager rejoined them. It was then, too, that Dave reported to him with the words: "That is the machine I want, Mr. Randolph." As Dave spoke he pointed to a monoplane of which he had made a close inspection for over ten minutes. The manager burst out into a hearty laugh. "Well, well!" he cried, clapping Dave on the shoulder in an approving way, "I must say you are certainly a grand judge of monoplanes." "How is that?" asked Dave. "You have picked out the best machine in the place." "Why, I was looking for the best one, wasn't I, Mr. Randolph?" asked the young aviator with a smile. "It is our new model of the composite hydro-aeroplane," explained the manager. "It's the best standard built in this country—the Monarch II." "It's easy to see that," responded Dave. "It is the equal of the Drifter in a great many ways." "That is true," replied Mr. Randolph. "While it may not be as swift in the water as an all-steel hydro, it is built on the best float system and will sustain a weight of one thousand three hundred pounds." "And the front elevation and tail are also of the newest type," said Dave. "You studied that out, eh? It's a model of lightness as such machines go. The engine is only three hundred pounds, it carries twenty gallons of gasoline, and has a lifting capacity of twelve hundred pounds, giving leeway for a three hundred pound pilot." "Dave and I wouldn't weigh that together, Mr. Randolph," said Hiram. "Its simplicity strikes me," remarked Dave. "Yes," said Mr. Randolph, "and it can be knocked down and reassembled in a hurry. You see, the ailerons never leave their sections and in the planes not a wire is changed. The outriggers fold, keeping them in pairs together, each piece is bent, not buckled, and can be straightened good as new in case of a disarrangement." The manager went over the entire machine in a speedy but expert way. He saw that all locks on the turnbuckles were fastened, and that the locks had lock washers beneath them. All the movable wires were reinforced with a piece of loose hay wire, and provisions against rust perfected. Hiram stood mute, but fascinated, as the manager explained in detail the fine points of the Monarch II, as the composite hydro-aeroplane was named. What interested Dave immensely was a self starting apparatus. This was operated by a handle inserted in a socket, fastened on a special ball ratchet on the large sprocket. Pulling this handle turned the motor over two, sometimes three compressions, and started up the machine without difficulty, Mr. Randolph explained. During the operation the throttle shut down so that the operator might resume his seat and take the levers. The planes had double covered fabric on top and bottom, tightened at the rear of the planes by lacing. A single lever controlled the elevator and side flaps and there were radical bearings to take both side and end thrusts. "Tell you, Dashaway," said Mr. Randolph in conclusion, "I'll trust you with the Monarch II because you are something more than a grass-cutting pilot by mail trying to coast a flying machine off the ground." "I hope to deserve your compliment," laughed the young aviator. "You've got a horse power engine and planes hard to beat. There are self-priming oil pumps, an auxiliary exhaust, and the machine follows the lines of the lowest gasoline consumption. Remember the triple axis conditions, Dashaway. One controls the fore and aft axis, producing tipping. The second is the vertical axis, producing turning. The third is the lateral axis, producing rising and falling." "Some one at the office wishes to see Mr. Dashaway," just here interrupted a lad from the plant. "To see me?" spoke Dave in some surprise. "Yes, sir. He asked me to give you his card, and said he had come quite a distance to see you." Dave took the card the lad handed him. He was a little startled, and then curious, as he read the name— "JAMES PRICE, Revenue Officer." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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