Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane; Or, Daring Adventures over the Great Lake

by Roy Rockwood

  CHAPTER XVIII

  ON DESERT ISLAND

  The young aviator might well ask the question he put to the movingpicture man, for the negative in Dave's hand showed plainly the faceand figure of Jerry Dawson.

  There could be no mistake. The boy who had run away with theDrifter had features strongly marked and not readily forgotten. Thepicture had been taken in the open street. Jerry was standing theretalking to a Chinaman.

  "Some scene you know, Dashaway?" asked Mr. Alden.

  "No, somebody I know--and am very anxious to find," replied Dave.

  "So? Let me have a look at it."

  Dave handed the plate to the moving picture man, who slanted itagainst the light and nodded intelligently.

  "Oh, that?" he said. "Yes, I remember all about it."

  "Where did you take it, Mr. Alden?" pressed Dave.

  "At Anseton. There's a sort of foreign quarter there, and I wascatching up some street scenes. It was the Chinaman I shot. Wantedthe costume, you know."

  "When was that?" asked Dave.

  "Yesterday morning."

  Dave asked a score of questions. The moving picture man saw thatDave had some important motive in his inquiries. He did not askwhat it was, and was patient and careful in his replies.

  Dave left Mr. Alden feeling that he had learned a good deal. Thepresence of Jerry Dawson in Anseton, and that, too, with a Chinaman,verified many of the theories of the young aviator. Dave lost notime in getting to a telegraph office, to send a dispatch that wouldreach Mr. Price. It told briefly of the progress of the Monarch IIand of the definite clew Dave had just discovered.

  That afternoon our hero hired a hand cart he saw in a blacksmith'syard labeled "For Sale." He drove it as near to the swamp island ashe could, without getting stuck in the mud. Then, he called toHiram, who put himself in wading trim. The empty gasoline cans wereover to the cart by Hiram. Dave trundled them to the town, got themfilled and to the island, and, returning the cart, was ready toprepare for a new night journey.

  "It's less than sixty miles that we have to go, Hiram," he advisedhis assistant.

  "Then you've found out something definite?" guessed Hiram.

  "Yes, I have got a trace of Jerry Dawson."

  "You don't say so!"

  "I do, and I'll tell you how," and Dave recited the story of hismeeting with the moving picture man.

  "Why, that's just grand," commented Hiram in his exuberant way."You've good as run down the Drifter."

  "Not quite, Hiram."

  "Oh, you'll find the stolen airship. I feel it in my bones. I'vefelt it ever since I saw the way you took hold of this affair."

  "Well, I've had good help and a splendid machine, you mustremember."

  "I don't go much on the help," declared Hiram modestly. "As to theMonarch II, though, I never saw such a well-behaved machine. If shedoes in the water what she's done in the air, she's a recordbreaker, sure."

  The machine was put in the best possible trim. It lacked two hoursof nightfall but Dave had plenty to occupy his mind. For over anhour he sat looking over maps and memoranda, and blocking out hiscourse. He had been very explicit and painstaking in questioningthe moving picture man. He had made inquiries concerning Ansetonand its vicinity down to the smallest detail. From all this Davehad decided on a permanent landing place, a sort of headquartersfrom which he could branch out in his personal investigations in theday time and sally forth on an air hunt in the dark.

  The aviators could distinctly hear a bell in some tower tolling thehour of nine as they circled a busy city that lay beyond and below,them, a blur of light. Dave at the levers kept the Monarch II at afair height, constantly scanning an expanse to the north dotted onlyhere and there with lights. Once past the outskirts of the city heturned due north.

  "Why, hello!" exclaimed his companion, "we're over water!"

  "Yes," replied Dave, "it's the lake."

  "Lake Superior! Dave, are we going to cross it?"

  "A good many times in the future probably, but not tonight. I amlooking for a revolving light west of the city, right along thecoast."

  "I'll keep a lookout, too."

  The lake was here and there dotted with the signal lights ofsteamers. Along the shore, which Dave skirted closely, variouslights their met view. Both boys strained their gaze. FinallyHiram called out sharply: "I see it, Dave."

  "See what?"

  "A revolving light."

  "Where?"

  "See, just beyond that little cluster of town lights--quite highup."

  "Yes," answered Dave in a tone of satisfaction. "That is RockyPoint lighthouse. I know my bearings, now."

  "Are you going to land, Dave?"

  "Presently."

  "But you're driving out further over the lake."

  "Just for a short distance, Hiram," advised Dave. "There's anisland down shore where they run a smelter--ah, I think I locateit."

  Dave was not mistaken. He came within range of some tall, stackssending out sparks and flames. Now he changed his course. He kepthis glance fixed below him and to the right as steadily as hisduties at the lever would permit.

  The Monarch II passed over two small islands. Half a mile beyondthem arose a third larger one. It was quite prominent, for thereason, that it presented a range of great cliffs. Dave navigatedthe air in narrowing circles. Then, timing and calculating avolplane glide, he let the machine down easily to the ground.

  "Well!" ejaculated Hiram, "you've hit on a pretty dark spot for acamp, Dave."

  "And a safe one," replied the young aviator. "Mr. Alden describedthis place to me. It is called Desert Island, and has noinhabitants on it. It seems dark because we are so shut in, butyour eyes will soon become used to that."

  It was a singular place into which the Monarch II had descended.High declivitous, masses of rock formed a sort of immense cairn.They seemed shut in on every side, fully one hundred feet below thelevel of the cliffs.

  The farther north they had run the cooler air currents had become.Both boys felt somewhat chilly.

  "See here," spoke Hiram, after they had seen that the machine wasall right and a rubber sheet thrown over the machinery to protect itfrom the heavy night dews, "a warm cup coffee wouldn't hurt us."

  "That's right, Hiram," agreed Dave. "We are all shut in here, andeven a big fire wouldn't show from the land or the deck of apassenger steamer. You can try your hand at coffee making, if youlike."

  "The coffee is all made, but cold, in these bottles," explainedHiram, fishing out two from the accommodation basket.

  There were both trees and bushes near by. Hiram gathered some drybranches and roots and soon had a comfortable little campfiregoing. He poured out the coffee from the bottles into a tin waterpail, and soon had it steaming hot. Sandwiches and some bakerystuff Dave had bought at Ironton made a very satisfactory meal.Then they spread some wraps over a heap of dried grass, which theygathered up without much trouble. They rested in luxurious ease,watching the bright, snapping fire glow and feeling its genialwarmth.

  "Well, this is just like Robinson Crusoe, isn't it, Dave?" askedHiram, with an air of great comfort.

  "If you are a man Friday, then," rejoined the young aviator with asmile, "you scout around in the morning and see if there are anybreaks in these great walls of rock shutting us in."

  "Oh, then you're not counting an leaving here again by the airroute?" inquired Hiram in some surprise.

  "Not in daylight. I want to find some other way out for that. Yousee," explained Dave, "this is just an ideal spot as a rendezvous.I want to get over to the city tomorrow, though, to attend to someimportant business."

  "How are you going to get there?"

  "Why, I'll have to trust to my swimming skill, I guess," repliedDave.

  "Um-m," observed Hiram thoughtfully, and, if the young aviator hadbeen more watchful, he would have noticed that for the rest of theevening his willing assistant seemed to have something on his mind.