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Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane

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<h1 id="id01708" style="margin-top: 5em">CHAPTER XXIV</h1> <h5 id="id01709">THE ESCAPE BY AIRCRAFT</h5> "That's good," instantly cried Hiram Dobbs. "They'll have troubles of their own now, maybe." He and Dave listening closely, could now detect bustle and excitement in the rooms beyond their own prison place. They could hear Jerry Dawson fussing and bawling about, while his father's gruff voice seemed to give orders to the men in the place. "I wonder what they will do with us now?" inquired Hiram. "We shall probably soon know," returned Dave. "Get those fellows out of there, you two," they finally heard Jerry Dawson order. The door of the prison room was unlocked and thrown open. "March out," ordered Jerry. Dave and Hiram took their time about obeying the mandate. Then at a word from Jerry two of his men hastened them across the threshold, seizing them by the arms. "Ouch!" roared Hiram. "Do you want to smash my arm all over again?" The man who held him was less rough at this. In the room the boys saw Jerry, his father, the two men who held them and three others. Before Dawson lay a large, round bundle. A smaller one lay at the feet of one of the other men. "Now, then," spoke Dawson, "ready and quick is the word. I've divided it up fair, and you'll find your share in that bundle. You three had better get it and yourselves to some safe place." "Yes," spoke one of the men, "the revenuers will surely be here soon." "You two," continued Dawson to the men had Dave and Hiram in charge, "bring the boys along." "Where to?" was asked. "Just follow us," was the surly response. "Give a hand, Jerry." The two Dawsons lifted the bundle at their feet and started from the room. There were sounds as if some one was pounding on the door at the front of the building. The Dawsons, however, did not go that way. They quickened their steps, the captives were led through several rooms, and finally a door at the rear of the place was opened. "Hold them tight now," ordered Jerry. "Yes, and if they make any outcry quiet them the way you know how," added his father. Dave and Hiram were surprised to find themselves now in complete darkness. "We're going through some kind of a tunnel," whispered the young aviator to his companion a moment later. Their captors forced them along in the steps of the Dawsons. They must have proceeded several hundred feet thus, when the tunnel grew lighter. Then they arrived at an exit letting out into a deep, narrow ravine. "They must have taken this route to escape from the revenue officers," Dave told his companion, in a guarded tone. "Shall we set up a fight and yell?" proposed the audacious Hiram. "Not with that broken arm of yours and four to one," dissented Dave. "Broken arm, nothing! Say-hello! Why, they're taking us to their airship!" exclaimed Hiram. They had come upon the Drifter at a point where the ravine spread out and a long level space showed. "Now then, brisk is the word," spoke the elder Dawson. He and his son carried the bundle up to the Drifter and managed to stow it aboard. Jerry climbed into the pilot's seat. His father drew some stout double cord from his pocket. "Tie up those boys hand and foot," he ordered grimly. "See here, Mr. Dawson," spoke up Dave, "what are you going to do with us?" "You'll find that out very soon," was the gruff reply. The two men proceeded to secure the arms and feet of the captives. Dave knew it was useless to resist the rough treatment he received. Hiram was not so patient. "Say, this is an outrage!" he cried out. "What's the matter with you?" demanded Jerry Dawson, leaning from his seat with a scowl on his face. "What do you want to tie a one-armed fellow up for?" grumbled Hiram. "That's so," said the elder Dawson. "Just attend to his feet and one arm. No use making him safer. He won't be very dangerous with only a broken arm free." First Dave and then Hiram were lifted into the seats behind the pilot's post. As has been said, the Drifter could carry five passengers, and they were not crowded or uncomfortable. "They are going to carry us away with them," whispered Hiram to his companion. "Let them," replied the young aviator. "It may give us a chance to outwit them someplace along the line." Hiram chuckled. Dave stared at him strangely, but his doughty companion did not explain what he had in his mind. "All ready," announced Jerry, his hand on his lever. His father got into the seat behind him. "Wait a minute," he spoke to his son. "You two," he added to the men who had accompanied them, "better get to your friends, divide up your plunder and make yourselves scarce as soon as you can." "That's what we intend to do," replied one of the men. "Hold on!" exclaimed his companion, suddenly turning around at the echo of a loud shout. "What's the trouble now, I wonder?" "Hey, stop the airship! Stop them! Stop them!" yelled the strident voice of a man coming pell mell down the ravine path. He was in a frantic state of excitement and waving his arms wildly. "Don't lose a second," spoke Dawson quickly. Jerry gave the starter a whirl. Dave noticed that his father was quite excited and kept watching the advancing runner. "Stop them, I tell you!" yelled this individual whom Dave recognized as one of the three individuals left behind at the hut with the other bundle. "What for?" shouted one of the two men near the airship. "Robbers-thieves! That bundle they gave us!" "What about it?" "No silks—nothing but a lot of worthless truck. They've cheated us and are making away with the real plunder." Whiz! up went the airship. The three men ran after it. The newcomer shook his fist vengefully after the machine. The other two picked up rocks and hurled them in its wake. "O. K.," chuckled Jerry, as the Drifter shot far out of reach of their deluded confederates. "Do your level best, Jerry," spoke his father. "The revenue men may have another airship in commission." "Oh, I guess not," retorted Jerry airily. "Say, what about the one these fellows had?" "They know and won't tell. Some of crowd will find it, though I told them if they did to dismantle it. They can get something for the old junk." "About all they will get, eh?" leered Jerry. "I'm thinking so." "You didn't give them any of the silk?" "Not I." "That was slick," chuckled Jerry. "Hear him! He's a fine one, isn't he?" observed Hiram to Dave. "Yes, Jerry can't be true, even to his friends," replied the young aviator. Dave watched Jerry at the lever. He had to admit that his enemy knew considerable about running an aircraft. The only criticism he could make was that several times Jerry took some big risks in daringly banking, when the least variation of the wind would have made the Drifter turn turtle. It was six hours later when the airship descended. At times the machine had made fully sixty miles an hour. Long since they had passed the apparent limits of civilization. The course was due northwest. Vast forests spread out under them. It was only for the first time in one hundred miles, as they neared a small settlement on a river, that Jerry let down on the speed, and they descended at a spot about a mile from a settlement in the center of a big field. Dave and Hiram were left in the chassis, while Jerry and his father left the machine. They conversed for some time, then it was arranged that Jerry should proceed to the settlement and purchase some provisions. His father came up to the machine as Jerry departed. "See here, you two," he spoke in his usual gruff way, "we'll give you something to eat and, drink when Jerry comes back." "Where are you taking us to, Mr. Dawson?" asked the young aviator. "We are taking you so far from home, that you can't tramp back in time to pat any more of your friends on our track," was the blunt reply. "Another couple of hundred miles, and, if you behave yourself, we'll set you loose." The man spoke as if the proposition was perfectly simple and honest one. "Another couple of hundred miles?" repeated Dave. "That is what I said, Dashaway." "You are carrying things with a high hand, Mr. Dawson." "Yes? Well, I know what I am doing." "You may overreach yourself." "Humph! I'll take my chances on that. You are smart, Dashaway, but you can't scare me and you can't get the best of me." "But the law will get you, some day or another." "Bah! I'm tired and don't want to listen to your talk. I tell you I know what I am doing." "You won't release us now?" "No." "That is final?" "It certainly is, and you may as well save your breath and not mention it again. I am tired out and don't want any more of such talk." "Well, see here—" broke in Hiram. "I won't listen to any more. Shut up." With the words Dawson went over to a hammock at a little distance, spread his coat over it, and lay down to rest. It was not five minutes before his captives could hear him snoring loudly. Hiram had been watching his every movement in an intense way. Now he leaned over towards Dave. His eyes were snapping with excitement and there was a broad smile on his face, as he whispered into the ear of the young aviator one word. It was: "Hurrah!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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