<h2 id='chap03'>CHAPTER III</h2>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c004'>
<div>“TARGET PRACTICE”</div>
</div></div>
<p class='c011'>“Why, I say!” exclaimed the tramp with a
wondering stare at Hiram, “you don’t seem glad at
all.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t him, you see,” responded Hiram dubiously.
“Oh, yes,” he hastened to add, noticing
the injured way Borden took it, “I’m glad you are
here to draw a picture of the man who tried to blow
us up, but I was almost sure it was—well, a fellow
we know, and have every reason to fear. But
it isn’t!”</p>
<p>“I see, I see,” murmured the tramp thoughtfully,
and he ran his eye more critically than ever
over his handiwork. “Ye-es,” he continued slowly,
“it’s a pretty fair picture. He doesn’t seem familiar
to you; eh?”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t remember ever having seen a face
like that before,” answered Hiram, doubtfully.</p>
<p>“Just as well, I reckon. He’d be no advantage
to anybody, that fellow wouldn’t. Well, that’s the
fellow you want to go after, provided you intend
to.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='21' id='Page_21'></span>“Dave will,” declared Hiram with vim.
“There’s some mean hangers-on in our line, and
lots of jealousy, and it’s led to danger and loss for
us several times before this. The management here
will take this matter up, if we make a complaint
about it. Dave’s going to. I could see that from
the look on his face when he went off just now.
Thanks!” he shouted to a young fellow on a motor
cycle who flashed by, flipping an envelope to Hiram.
He had a gold braided “M” on his cap, indicating
that he was a grounds messenger acting as postboy
in distributing the mail to the various hangars.
“Why,” added Hiram with increased animation
of manner, as he scanned the printed words in one
corner of the envelope, “it’s from Chicago, and the
headquarters of the International Meet Association
we were talking about not an hour ago. I wonder——”</p>
<p>Hiram strolled off by himself, looking out for
Dave, and building all kinds of air castles. In about
five minutes his chum put in an appearance. Hiram
ran towards him, waving the envelope, and placed
it in his hands. Dave opened it. His assistant
watched his face keenly, and was gratified to note
that it assumed a pleased expression.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='22' id='Page_22'></span>“It’s from the people offering all those prizes we
were talking about; isn’t it, Dave?” questioned his
eager assistant.</p>
<p>“Yes,” replied the other, “it’s from the committee
of the big International meet. They invite
us to participate, Hiram.”</p>
<p>“Us?” repeated Hiram—“Oh, yes! You can
be sure they’d ask you, though. What you going
to do about it?”</p>
<p>“Oh, we’ll think it over. They write that they
are sending the details, such as rules and restrictions,
in a later mail. We’ll study them when they
come.”</p>
<p>Of course Hiram, in his impetuous way, was
ready to take up any proposition in the aviation
line, no matter how important. To him Dave was
the one champion in the field able to compete with
all rivals. He had been with Dave long enough,
however, to get used to his methodical business-like
ways. Hiram was eager to plunge at once into the
merits of the new proposition, but he knew that
Dave had put the matter aside until he was ready
to take it up for real action.</p>
<p>“Oh, say, Dave,” Hiram changed the subject,
“come along till I show you the picture our tramp
friend has drawn. That’s the man who tried to
blow us up,” he announced, as they reached the side
of the hangar where the sheet of manilla paper was
tacked.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='23' id='Page_23'></span>Dave surveyed the sketch critically. He saw at
a glance that the artist had caught some strong
facial characteristics of the person whose likeness
he had attempted to draw. The young birdman
shook his head slowly.</p>
<p>“Don’t know him?” broke in Hiram questioningly—“neither
do I. Anybody would again,
though, if that sketch looks like him. See here,
Dave,” and Hiram was very serious and impressive,
“it’s just such mean tricks as this one that have
been the start of all kinds of trouble for us. We
want to nip it in the bud this time. What do they
say up at the office?”</p>
<p>“They promise a thorough investigation. There
has been quite a lot of vandal work at the different
meets, and they say they will spare no pains, or
expense, to run down the fellows who are discrediting
our exhibitions. Want to speak to me?” asked
Dave in a kindly tone, noticing the tramp hovering
about near them as if he had something on his mind.</p>
<p>“Why, yes,” answered Borden. “You fellows
have been mighty good to me, and I feel as if I
owed you something. I’m no detective, or anything
of that sort, but if it’s a point to you to find out
something about the original of that picture——”</p>
<p>“I should say it was!” interrupted Hiram,
strenuously.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='24' id='Page_24'></span>“Then, as I’m the one who saw him closest, and
who know him best, maybe I’d be luckiest in recognizing
him on sight. I’ll take a little scurry around,
if you say so, and try to run him down, or head
him off, and find out what’s back all this.”</p>
<p>“Vernon, our old-time enemy is back of it, or else
some envious chaps who think you may go to this
new meet, and who want to keep you out of it because
they know you’ll win,” whispered Hiram to
Dave.</p>
<p>“That is a very good idea,” said the latter to
Borden. “You think you saw this same man hanging
around the grounds last evening? You might
come across him again by keeping your eyes open.
Suppose you do that now? Here’s a little change
you may need,” and the young aviator slipped some
silver coins into the man’s hand. “Hiram, the
management here are talking about a bonus-flight
the end of this week. I’m interested and have
promised to meet with the directors in an hour. I
suppose you want to take your regular fly with the
<i>Scout</i>?”</p>
<p>“I’ve counted on it,” replied Hiram promptly,
“but some one ought to keep a close watch around
the hangar, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t think we’ll be troubled in the day
time,” answered Dave. “You can arrange with the
grounds watchman to look in on our property from
time to time. You won’t be gone very long, I suppose?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='25' id='Page_25'></span>“Oh, just a scurry across country, and back,”
replied Hiram, with a nonchalance manifestly affected,
and Dave smiled to himself, suspecting that
his young assistant was up to something as he recalled
to his mind the mysterious bags that Hiram
had been making.</p>
<p>Surely enough, those same bags played a part in
the later proceedings of the ardent young amateur
airman. The tramp had started off on his mission,
promising to report his possible discoveries that
same evening. Dave followed him in the direction
of the office of the grounds. Hiram, left alone,
bustled about in the most active enjoyment of one
of those occasions when he was given a chance to
test out the knowledge of air-sailing he had acquired
under the tuition of his gifted chum. He
threw open the doors of the hangar, and, as the
bright sunlight streamed in, stood in a sort of rapt
dream surveying the two machines exposed to his
view.</p>
<p>“The beauties!” he cried, his sparkling eyes resting
first upon the <i>Ariel</i> and then upon the <i>Scout</i>.</p>
<p>The <i>Ariel</i> was the very latest model in the aeroplane
line. It succeeded the famous <i>Comet</i>. That
was the fine machine in which Dave and his friends
had made their trip around the world. The <i>Comet</i>
<span class="pagenum" title='26' id='Page_26'></span>had been built more for rough usage and staying
power, than for fancy sprints or stunts. It was now
an honored relic in the show rooms of the Interstate
Aero Company. Only a few weeks before the present
introduction of the reader to our young hero,
Mr. Brackett had delighted his young protégé by
shipping to him, at the Midlothian grounds, the latest
model in air craft.</p>
<p>The <i>Ariel</i> flew as a parasol-type biplane. It gratified
Dave to note that the manufacturer had followed
out many incidental suggestions he, himself,
had made from time to time, when visiting the plant
which Mr. Brackett practically owned. The main
planes of the new machine enabled easy entrance to,
and exit from, the cockpit. The pilot had an unhampered
view in all directions. The craft had a
maximum span of thirty-five feet and a chord of
seven feet.</p>
<p>The area of the main planes was two hundred
and twenty-five square feet. The over-all length of
the machine was twenty-five feet, while the weight
empty, was nine hundred pounds. The motor was
of radial construction and of the six-cylinder type,
having a bore and stroke of five by six inches respectively.
A speed of about eighty miles per hour
was easily attained by the machine loaded with fifty
gallons of gasoline and ten of lubricant, as an average
for a three-hour flight.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='27' id='Page_27'></span>“Want some help?” inquired a man from a
neighboring hangar, strolling up to the spot.</p>
<p>“Just a mere lift,” replied Hiram briskly. “The
little <i>Scout</i> acts just as anxious to get up cloud-chasing
as I am.”</p>
<p>“Ready,” announced the helper, getting into
position.</p>
<p>“Let her go,” ordered the enthusiastic young airman
in a tone like a hurrah, his quivering fingers
clutching wheel and control, and thrilling to the
tips with animation and delight.</p>
<p>It was a superb day. Air, sky and wind currents
were propitious for an easy flight. To Hiram there
was nothing in the world equal to that delightful
sensation of skimming through the air like a bird.
It was almost rapture to realize that the turn of a
wrist, or the pressure of his foot sent the airy,
graceful fabric of steel and wood far aloft, like a
pinion-poised eagle, ascending safely through space
as would a speeding swallow arrow-aimed for a
long, deep dive.</p>
<p>Hiram struck a course due west, once aloft at a
convenient level. Eyes and mind were fixed upon
a direct point in view. At the end of an hour he
was out of sight of the camp and the air craft practicing
in the vicinity of the exhibition grounds.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='28' id='Page_28'></span>Between two settlements, some fifteen miles
apart, Hiram began to descend. It was where a two
mile reach of level pasture land intervened, dotted
here and there with underbrush and stunted trees.
The <i>Scout</i> landed and its young pilot alighted.
Under one arm he carried some sheets of white
paper. He halted to place one of these on the
ground, holding it flat by stones weighing down its
corners. He then proceeded fully half a mile
farther, again placed a sheet on the ground, gradually,
in like manner, making a circle of fully a mile
and a half. Finally he came back to the <i>Scout</i>, and
got up into the air again.</p>
<p>“Target practice!” chuckled Hiram, as he circled
away from the spot, made a sharp turn and volplaned
full speed, as though aiming to land, nose
first, directly upon the first white sheet in his course.
Hiram made a magnificent dive. He swung over
the control so that fifty feet from the ground the
machine turned the reverse arc of a circle of nearly
two hundred feet. His hand shot down beside him
and grasped one of the bags, lifted it, aimed it and
practically fired it at the “target” in view.</p>
<p>“Missed,” he grimly observed, but quite pleased
all the same, for the bag landed flat and did not roll,
and lay not two feet away from its intended mark.</p>
<p>“Hit it!” crowed the excited Hiram as, with a
second swoop, he made a direct hit of the second
target with a second bag. The third was a miss.
The fourth was like the second.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='29' id='Page_29'></span>“If I can make it that good, what can’t Dave
Dashaway do?” soliloquized the young aeronaut, as
he gathered up the bags and replaced them in the
<i>Scout</i>. “I’ll spring the scheme on him just as soon
as he makes up his mind to go into that International
contest, which he’s just <i>got</i> to do!”</p>
<p>Hiram went afloat once more, determined on a
swift run west, a turn, and then a course homeward
bound.</p>
<p>“Hum” he chuckled. “If any of the airmen
saw my maneuvers with those bags they’d think I
was practicing to go over to Europe and drop
bombs. Now what does that mean?” murmured
the lad suddenly, and, with a quick start, Hiram
slackened his speed, to study out the details of a
lively scene in progress directly beneath him.</p>
<div class='pbb'></div>
<hr class='pb c000' />
<div> <span class="pagenum" title='30' id='Page_30'></span></div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />