_ CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING DISAPPEARANCE
Dave hurried his steps. Old Grimshaw turned off at the Aegis headquarters. Hiram led his companion by a short cut to the Baby Racer hangar.
On a campstool inside the tent where the boys slept, Dave found a keen-eyed, hatchet-faced man. He sat stiff as a poker, and seemed to pierce Dave through and through with his glance as he looked him over critically.
"Dashaway, yes?" he interrogated, and as Dave bowed assent he added: "Thought I'd wait and see you, although our young friend here has been pretty dear."
"About what?" asked Dave.
"Ridgely."
"Who is he?"
"The man you rescued from the lake last evening. As I have told your friend, the man is a bad one, and we have chased him up and down the lakes clear from Detroit."
"He is a criminal, then?"
"A smuggler. He has outwitted the revenue officers for some time. His last specialty was running Chinese emigrants over the border. When he learned the chase was on, he stole a launch and scudded for other waters. He had the name and color of the launch changed. Why he came to Columbus we don't know."
"To see some people named Dawson, he said."
"Yes, they appear to be fiends."
"Can't Jerry Dawson tell you anything about him?" asked Dave.
"No."
"For a very good reason."
"And what is at?"
"Dawsons left last night."
"Left--left the meet?" exclaimed Dave in surprise.
"Yes, bag and baggage."
"That puzzles me," said Dave.
"It baffles us," observed the revenue officer, "for they have left no clew to their future whereabouts."
"Won't Jerry's employer tell you?"
"He says he can't. Professes to be quite at sea as to the meaning of their sudden departure. Angry, too, for it seems they had a contract in the service."
"I wouldn't believe him," broke in Hiram. "Anybody respectable about the meet can tell you that he is not to be trusted."
"Well, the Dawsons are gone and Ridgely went away with them," said the revenue officer definitely. "I fancied you might give me some hint that might help me, Dashaway, as to their antecedents, friends."
"I'm a new one in the aviation line," said Dave. "I found them in the business when I joined it, only a few weeks ago."
"Well, I understand you are two pretty keen young fellows," said the officer, "I'm going to leave you my card. There it is."
Dave glanced at the bit of pasteboard his visitor extended. It bore simply a name: "James Price."
"If you get the faintest clew to Ridgely or the Dawsons," continued Mr. Price, "wire the secret service bureau at Chicago. I will arrange so that I shall be advised at once."
"I will do what I can for you, Mr. Price," promised Dave.
"All right, and send in any reasonable bill you like for your service. We feel certain that this, Ridgely, driven from one district, will begin operations in another. Then, too, from what I learn these Dawsons are not above engaging in of off-color schemes."
"They aren't!" cried Hiram. "If they had stayed, Mr. King said they'd be barred from the meets in a few days."
"Well, help me all you can."
"Queer, isn't it?" spoke Hiram, as the revenue officer left them.
"It is a rather strange proceeding," admitted Dave.
At five o'clock that afternoon the two friends were down at the south pylons awaiting the coming in of the machines engaged in the non-stop race. A great crowd was gathered, for according to estimated schedules some of the monoplanes would be due within the coming half hour.
"If it's the Aegis first," spoke Hiram, "it makes three winning stunts for Mr. King in two days."
A sort of instantaneous flutter pervaded the people as some word starting from the judge's stand passed electrically through the crowd.
"They've sighted something," shouted an excited spectator.
"Yes, there's one of the airships," added a quick voice.
"I see it!"
"There's another!"
"Hurrah!"
Hiram stood looking up into the sky, fairly trembling with suspense. A man standing by Dave had a field glass.
"I make out two," he spoke to an inquirer at his side.
"I think I can tell you who they are if you'll give me your glass for a minute," said Dave.
"Certainly," replied the man.
"What is it, Dave? " cried Hiram, as, watching the face of his comrade closely, he discerned an intense expression upon it.
"Aegis in the lead--" began Dave, lowering the field glass.
"Aegis in the lead!" ran from the spot in receding echoes as the news passed down the line.
"That's King's craft."
"I knew it!"
"Butterfly a close second," reported Dave.
"There's another one!"
"And another!"
"See them come!" cried an excited old farmer. "Say, it beats the electric cars down at Poseyville!"
The field was in a wild flutter. The contesting aircraft came nearer and nearer. Finally Hiram could make out the Aegis fully a mile in the lead, the wings set for a drop straight beyond the south pylon.
"He's won--Mr. King has won!" he shouted again and again, fairly dancing up and down.
The crowd surged towards the landing point as the Aegis gracefully sailed to earth, ran a stopping course, and Robert King stepped out amid the frantic cheers of his friends and admiring spectators in general.
The great aviator looked please and proud. Old Grimshaw trotted at his side on the way to the Aegis hangar.
"Say, you're taking about everything there is in sight," he remarked, with one of his grim chuckles.
"I've run the limit on the set spurts, I guess," replied the expert airman. "I'm going to look, for something better."
"What is there that's better than these famous stunts of yours, Mr. King?" inquired Hiram.
"A record beater of some account," was the quick response.
"Record breaker of what?" pressed the persistent Hiram.
"Well," said Mr. King with an animated sparkle in his eye, "you and Dashaway come down to the hangar this evening, and I'll tell you all about it." _