Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator: or, In the Clouds for Fame and Fortune. Roy Rockwood
besides that Ned had brought a little parcel containing sandwiches, “to spell” him, as he put it, if he got hungry on the all-night tramp he was starting out on.
“I hate to see you start out this way, without a cent of money,” said Ned rather anxiously. “I haven’t got any, and you won’t let me tell mother anything about your being here. I know she would help you, if she could.”
“Thank you, Ned,” replied Dave gratefully, “your mother too. You see, though, I have plenty of money,” and with a smile Dave slapped his coat where the pocket book that had dropped from the airship the evening previous reposed.
“Yes, but that isn’t yours, Dave.”
“I shall never forget that,” replied Dave promptly. “There’s just this, though. If I got in a tight place I wouldn’t hesitate to borrow a dollar or two to help me on my way back to the owner.”
“You’re going to look for Mr. King right off, are you, Dave?”
“Yes, the birdman first and foremost, Ned. I’m counting a good deal on interesting him in giving me advice or help about getting into this airship business.”
“Oh, you’ll land there,” predicted Ned confidently. “You’re too much in earnest not to succeed. Then you’re going to head for Fairfield?”
“Yes, Ned.”
“That’s where the aero meet is?”
“Exactly.”
“Aren’t you afraid from what he guesses and knows, that old Warner will be looking for you, or have some one looking for you right at that place?” inquired Ned.
“I shall guard out for that,” replied Dave. “I’ve thought and planned it all out.”
“How is that?”
“To-morrow is the last day of the meet at Fairfield, so of course after that Mr. King won’t be there. I suppose he follows the circuit, as they call it. So, you see, I won’t be long at Fairfield under any circumstances, and I don’t think my guardian will risk the money chasing me all around the circle.”
“That’s so. I guess you’ve figured it out about right, Dave. Well, good luck, old fellow, and be sure to write to me.”
“I will, Ned. Coast all clear?”
Ned glanced around the corner of the barn towards the house.
“It’s all right, Dave – good-by.”
“Good-by.”
Ned stood watching his friend until he was sure he had got well across a pasture lot and safely out of view from the house or the road. This stretch of the Towner place was very poor land, finally running into a swamp. The moon was just coming up, but on the lowlands the rising mist was a protection to Dave.
He got to the end of the Bolger farm and then lined the drainage ditch extending beyond it. Dave leaped it finally at a narrow place, avoiding a wide morass. A little beyond this the lad came to a rutty road. It ran a mile or more to the railroad, but as he knew was not much used except to drive cattle to be shipped to the stock pens at the freight yards.
Dave had his plans clearly worked out. His present proposed destination was Fairfield. He was in hopes of finding some freight train making up in the yards. His idea was to get into some open or empty car, and secure a free ride most or all of the way to the city where the aero meet was in progress.
“There’s some one coming,” exclaimed Dave.
He had not counted upon meeting any one upon that lonely road at that time of the night. With the words he sprang behind a big tree. Then he peered keenly ahead of him, intending to make for the fence and hide himself in the thick underbrush beyond it.
The air was clearer and the moonlight brighter on the higher land Dave had now gained. Perhaps a quarter of a mile down the road he made out a horse. Chasing it was a man. The animal would browse and wait till its evident pursuer got up close to it. Then with a snort, kicking up its heels madly, it described a series of playful circles, dodged the man, and leaped the fence at the side of the road, a yard-high wire.
Dave watched the man chase it all over a patch of scrubby brush. Finally the animal jumped the fence back into the road. It kept sideways towards its pursuer, nibbling at the grass. It waited till the man was fairly upon it. Then up went its heels, and along the road the animal sped, the man shouting vainly after it.
This time the horse took a longer spurt than before. Dave made out the situation, and debated with himself how he had better act. He could not afford to come up against any person who knew him. In the distance he could not make out the identity of the man. About the horse, however, Dave was surer. The animal Dave had certainly never seen before. No such horse was known about Brookville, and spontaneously Dave uttered the exclamation:
“What a beauty!”
Dave was a lover of animals, and this one carried him to the bounds of admiration. High breeding, grace, elegance and value showed in the splendid animal. As it pranced up the road in the white moonlight, Dave was reminded of pictures he had seen of some magnificent charger.
“He looks like a race horse,” said Dave. “He has run away from that man, who is desperate to catch him. I ought to help him do it. If I can, I might tie the horse to a sapling and get out of sight before the man comes up.”
Dave kept behind the tree, his plan being to dash out when the horse ran by, and attempt to catch the halter rope which was trailing on the ground. As the animal got within ten feet of the tree, however, it let down its speed to a slow walk, and, its pursuer fully a quarter of a mile away, proceeded calmly to nibble at the grass.
Dave kept perfectly still. The animal, all unsuspicious of his being so near, came closer and closer to the tree in its browsing. A toss of its head sent the trailing halter rope whipping the ground not six inches from Dave’s foot.
“Got you!” cried Dave in triumph, as he grabbed the rope with one hand, and with the other clung to a knob on the tree to resist the quick jerk the horse gave. “So – o, nice fellow, so – o.”
Dave talked soothingly to the animal, that, however, with flashing eyes and bristling mane, backed foot by foot, resenting capture. Dave got a hand-over-hand clutch on the rope and finally a firm grip on the halter bridle itself. He was surer of himself now, for he knew considerable about horses. Still he counted on something of a tussle. To his surprise, however, as he gently stroked the mane of the high mettled steed, the animal moved toward him and nosed down to his side, sniffing inquiringly.
“Why,” said Dave with an amused laugh, “the animal scents the lunch Ned gave me.”
Dave did not know what was contained in the package in his pocket, but he proceeded to break through its paper covering. His fingers closed on a sugar frosted cookie. As he brought it into sight the horse gave an eager whinny and fairly snatched it from his hand. Then it rubbed its nose caressingly and coaxingly against his shoulder.
“Good friends, eh – as long as the cookies last!” laughed Dave. “All right, here’s another.”
Dave now had the animal under perfect control. Of a sudden, however, the horse pricked up his ears, glinted its eyes backwards, and began to paw the ground. Dave saw the apparent owner of the horse approaching.
“I’ll stand my ground – the man is a stranger,” thought Dave rapidly.
The man was puffing, panting and perspiring. He looked exhausted after his vigorous chase, but glad as he saw that Dave had the horse firm and tight.
“Capital!” he cried. “I wouldn’t have lost that horse for a fortune, and it means nearly that to get him safe back where he came from. Good for you, young fellow,” he added. “I’ll make it a lucky catch for you.”
“A good beginning in my runaway career,” said Dave to himself.
CHAPTER VI
CADMUS
“Look out!” shouted Dave suddenly.
In