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Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane

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<h1 id="id01406" style="margin-top: 5em">CHAPTER XX</h1> <h5 id="id01407">ACROSS THE BORDER</h5> "Did you see it?" asked Hiram, in a great state of excitement. "Yes," responded Dave. "A rocket." "See! See!" continued Hiram-"there's it second one!" "Sure enough." "Dave, this means something." "For us, you think?" "Yes, I do. Keep near the place where these rockets were fired, Dave. Now then, what do you think?" Dave slowed down. There was certainly something to his companion's surmises or suspicions, whatever they were. Directly at the spot whence the rockets had been fired there now suddenly flared up a great reach of flames. Watching these, the interested aviators saw them change to a reddish hue. Three times, at brief intervals, they did this. "Don't you see?" persisted Hiram. "See what?" asked Dave. "A signal." "You think so?" "I surely do. Now, then, look sharp. There are figures about the fire. The fire is pitch or oil, or something that could be made to flame up quickly. One of the men threw something into it from a box. It was red fire." "Why, yes," observed Dave slowly. "I'll admit that was some kind of a signal." "For the airship," interrupted Hiram quickly. "Look, look again, Dave! One of the men is shading his eyes from the glare of the fire, and is looking straight up into the sky. Why, it's plain as day. They saw our airship when that searchlight caught us. They were waiting for an airship to come along." "Another airship than ours, you mean?" "That's it, and I'll bet the Drifter! They took ours for the Drifter. They want us to land. Why, see there, one of the fellows is looking through a field glass—as if he could make us out in the dark away up here!" It did not take Dave long to drift to Hiram's way of thinking. The spot where the fire showed seemed to be a large yard of some kind, attached to a factory. "Of course this is all guess work, Hiram," said Dave, after a moment's thought. "Just the same, it fits in to your theory." "Say," spoke Hiram suddenly, "I've an idea." "What is it, Hiram?" "Make a stop just as soon as you can." "What's that for?" "Let me out, and give me a chance to find out who that signal was intended for." "I declare, it's not a bad plan," said Dave at once. "Can't you find some safe place where we can land?" "There won't be much trouble about that." "Do it, Dave," urged Hiram, "and right away, so I won't lose track of the place yonder." Dave inspected the country below as closely as he could at a distance. He circled to a lower level, and selected a patch of high grass between two corn fields. "Now then," announced Hiram. "I'm off." "I shall wait anxiously for your return, Hiram." "Don't worry, I shan't get into any trouble." Dave did not leave the flying machine. He kept himself in readiness for a flight, should anyone approach the spot. There was not much fear of that, though, he reasoned, as the place was away from the traversed roads and paths. The young aviator had quite a spell of waiting. He began to fear that Hiram had lost his way or that something had happened to him, as an hour passed by. Suddenly, however, his active young assistant bounded into view, chipper and lively as usual. "What news, Hiram?" inquired Dave. "The best in the world." "You have found out something?" "You'll think so when I tell you," declared Hiram. "I found the place where they sent up the rockets without much trouble." "What was it, Hiram?" "An old factory yard. Part of the buildings have been burned down, and three or four loaferish looking fellows seem to live in an old shake down there. They belong to the crowd of that fellow, Ridgely, the smuggler, right enough." "How did you know that, Hiram?" asked Dave. "Because I overheard them. They had let their signal fire burn down low, and were sitting around it talking. I crept up behind an old shed and listened. It was as near as I dared to get, and I could catch only a word now and then. They spoke the name Drifter," asserted Hiram positively. "You didn't see anything of Jerry Dawson?" asked Dave. "No, but—say, yes, they mentioned his name, too. They were all excited about seeing our airship. It seems they were trying to warn the Drifter." "To warn the Drifter?" repeated Dave somewhat puzzled. "Yes." "Why, what for?" "To keep away from the American shore. Somehow, they had found out that the revenue officers were at Anseton. They knew, too, that the Interstate people had an airship out after them. It seems that when we didn't reply to their signal, they guessed that they had hailed the wrong airship. They have sent a man to the city to telegraph to the men on the Canadian side to look out for an airship on their track." "You don't know where they are going to telegraph to, Hiram?" "But I do," cried Hiram triumphantly. "That's my big discovery. They talked over the whole thing. The message is to be sent to a friend at Brantford. He is to ride post haste horseback ten miles west of that place to where the Drifter people have a camp in what they call Big Moose Woods." "Hiram," applauded the young aviator, "you're a jewel. Why, you have simplified the whole business." "And you're going right after the Drifter?" propounded Hiram eagerly. "'We're going to try to," replied Dave, "but first we must get word of all this to Mr. Price." The Monarch II had mounted aloft while they were conversing. Dave started the machine in a direction opposite to that in which they had been going. Hiram noted this. "Are you going back to Desert Island?" he asked. "First, yes. Then I shall skiff over to Anseton and report to Mr. Price direct or through any of his agents I may find." The machine was brought safely to her old moorings within an hour. Dave, after landing on Desert Island, at once rowed over to the mainland. Hiram was full of curiosity when he returned. "It's all right," Dave explained. "I was lucky enough to meet Mr. Price himself. He and his men had already acted on the clew that picture of Jerry and the Chinaman gave us. The old factory yard where the rockets were sent up will be under watch before the night is over, and Mr. Price is going to Brantford on a special boat." "Then the crowd who stole the Drifter are as good as caught!" exclaimed Hiram hopefully. "Hardly," replied Dave. "Mr. Price has advised me to get the Monarch II over to the Canadian side of the lake to night!" "Which you are going to do, Dave?" "Right away." Dave, while in Anseton, had made some necessary inquiries as to the location of Brantford. He had also got a very good idea of Big Moose Woods. His arrangements with the revenue officer had been precise. He was aware that their only chance of getting near to the missing airship was to make new headquarters somewhere in the vicinity of Brantford, just as they had on Desert Island. The darkness was fading in the east when Dave selected a plateau on the top of a high hill as a landing place. Once landed, trees and bushes at its crest hid them from view except from overhead. Dave had used diligence and haste in getting out of possible sight, for day was breaking. They had reach Brantford, sailed over it, and Dave calculated had skirted the vicinity of Big Moose Woods. Nowhere, however, had lights, a campfire or any other token indicated the camp or rendezvous of the Drifter party. "We are within twenty miles of Brantford," Dave announced. "And what's the programme?" inquired Hiram. "Sleep, for we need it. We seem to be safely shut in here. Later we'll plan just what we will do." "If the Dawson crowd are warned all around about us and the revenue officers, they may run for some other territory," suggested Hiram. "We want to be on the lookout for that," replied the young aviator. They made themselves a comfortable bed, and both were soon asleep. Hiram woke up first; and found the sun shining in his eyes, and was about to shift his position, intent on a longer nap, when he checked himself not moving a muscle. Through his half closed eyelids, still feigning sleep, Hiram kept his glance fixed on one spot. He almost held his breath. Thus for nearly five minutes he lay inert, but every nerve on the keenest edge. His glance widened and seemed to be following some disappearing object. Then he sat straight upright, stared fixedly down the hill, and leaning over pulled his companion by the sleeve. "Dave! Dave!" whispered the excited boy-"wake up! We've been discovered!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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