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<h1>Dave Dashaway, Air</h1>
<h1>Champion</h1>
<h2>Or</h2>
<h1>Wizard Work in the Clouds</h1>
<h3>BY</h3>
<h3>ROY ROCKWOOD</h3>
<h1>DAVE DASHAWAY,<br/>AIR CHAMPION</h1>
<h2 id='chap01'>CHAPTER I</h2>
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<div>AT THE HANGARS</div>
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<p class='c011'>“Dave, here is something that will surely interest
you.”</p>
<p>As he spoke, Hiram Dobbs held up a newspaper
to the view of his companion, and Dave Dashaway
caught sight of the prominent head line: “Grand
International Aviation Contest.”</p>
<p>The two friends were amid an environment
strongly suggestive of airships and their doings.
They were sitting under a tree near the hangar
where Dave’s various aircraft and equipments were
stored. This was Dave’s home, for the time being.
Here, for over a month he had slept, ate and trained
for just such an event as the one which his chum
had brought to his attention.</p>
<p>There was nothing about Dave’s present appearance
to indicate that he was an expert in aviation
except a medal modestly showing beyond the lapel
of his coat. It might, however, have been a source
of surprise to the average person to read the inscription
on the medal, certifying to Dave’s
championship in a feat that had startled the aviation
world.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='2' id='Page_2'></span>Hiram proudly wore a pin bearing the initials:
“N. A. A.” (National Aero Association) showing
a distinction beyond the ordinary for a boy of his
age, and showing, too, that when he spoke of aviation
it was not as a novice.</p>
<p>“Dave, you ought to go in for that,” he added.</p>
<p>“Yes, it looks attractive,” agreed the young
aviator after a swift glance over the item under discussion.</p>
<p>“Ten thousand dollars—think of it!” exclaimed
the interested Hiram.</p>
<p>“It’s a big lot of money,” responded Dave,
slowly.</p>
<p>“And a big heap of work to win it, I suppose
you would say,” supplemented Hiram. “Well, you
never were afraid of work, and as to the chances—say,
a fellow who has done what you’ve just done—why,
it’ll be mere child’s play!”</p>
<p>Dave Dashaway smiled at the ardor of his companion.
He was thinking, though, and impressed
by the present situation. All things pertaining to
aviation had a great attraction for Dave. His
dreams, his practical efforts, all his ambitions lay
in the direction of supremacy as an air pilot.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='3' id='Page_3'></span>“I have been resting for a spell, as you might
call it, Hiram,” he said finally, “and hadn’t of late,
thought much of business. After that last dash of
ours, you know, Mr. Brackett thought we had better
let the season run out and prepare for something
out of the ordinary next year.”</p>
<p>“This has come along all right; hasn’t it?”
challenged Hiram, pointing at the item. “And the
biggest kind of a thing, too. ‘Ten thousand dollars
to the aviator scoring most in all events.’ Besides
that, prizes for points in plain sailing, altitude and
fancy stunts. It’s your class, Dave, it’s near here
and you were never in better working trim in your
life.”</p>
<p>“Why, Hiram,” spoke Dave, “you seem to have
quite set your heart upon it.”</p>
<p>“Indeed I have!” vociferated the impetuous
Hiram. “Think I’m going to sit around and keep
mum, and hear a lot of would-be-airmen brag? Not
much! They boast about a heap of records I know
they never made. They were talking about this
very prize offer last night. I took a good deal of
pride in telling them about some of the things you’ve
done. They knew about most of them, though.
They looked glum when I hinted that you were going
in for a try.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Dave,
quickly.</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t—why not?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='4' id='Page_4'></span>“Because in this line the wise man keeps his business
to himself. Airmen, generally, are a jealous
lot. Some of them, as we have reason to know, are
untrustworthy.”</p>
<p>“I never thought of that,” replied Hiram, his
face growing serious. “You’re right! It wouldn’t
be the first time some schemers got after you, and
tried to block you. That’s so! All the same, with
that new <i>Ariel</i>, biplane, made specially for you, who
can beat you? Why, Dave, your little trailer, the
<i>Scout</i>, alone has half a dozen speed points ahead of
the average machine on the field here. Those new
release gears are just dandy, and there isn’t a craft
on the list that has such an engine as the <i>Ariel</i>, let
alone the fuselage angle rods and the tubular framework.”</p>
<p>“I declare, Hiram,” laughed Dave, “you’ve been
posting up on scientific details lately; haven’t you?”</p>
<p>“I’ve tried to get it pat, yes, I’ll admit,” assented
Hiram proudly. “Then again, I’ve had a motive in
view. You see, I’ve been thinking up a grand
scheme—”</p>
<p>Hiram came to a sudden stop, looked embarrassed,
and there was a faint flush on his face. It
was with a somewhat sheepish expression in his
eyes that he glanced at his companion.</p>
<p>“I know what you’re hinting at,” observed Dave
shrewdly. “I suspected you were up to something
when I saw you working over those little canvas
bags. What’s the mystery, Hiram? Going to
tell, this time?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='5' id='Page_5'></span>“I’m not,” dissented the young airman’s assistant
staunchly. “You’d just laugh and say it was
another of my grand schemes. All right! Those
bags mean something—provided you go into this
new contest. Honest, Dave,” went on Hiram with
impressive earnestness, “I can put you onto a
wrinkle in aeronautics that is new enough, and
strong enough, to carry the day any time—oh,
bother!”</p>
<p>Whatever scheme the young lad had in his mind,
its disclosure was prevented at that moment by the
arrival of an intruder. A man of about thirty,
wearing a monocle, mincing in his steps and looking
the typical English “dandy” to perfection, approached
the bench where the two friends sat.</p>
<p>“It’s Lieutenant Montrose Mortimer,” remarked
Dave with a faint smile.</p>
<p>“Lieutenant nothing!” declared Hiram forcibly.
“He’s no more a British army officer than I am.”</p>
<p>“Ah, Mr. Dashaway,” spoke the newcomer,
bowing, “I hope you’ve thought over my proposition.”</p>
<p>“Why, yes, Lieutenant,” replied Dave, “I have
done so.”</p>
<p>“And have arrived at a decision?” questioned
the other with marked eagerness.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='6' id='Page_6'></span>“Well, no, not exactly,” answered Dave
promptly. “You see, Lieutenant Mortimer, I am
not a free agent in aviation matters. In fact, you
might say I am under contract indefinitely to Mr.
Brackett, who has financed me in the past. I should
have to refer your offer to him, you see.”</p>
<p>“When will he be here?” asked the man, evidently
very much disappointed.</p>
<p>“He may be here within a week.”</p>
<p>“I sincerely trust you will prevail on him to accept
my offer,” spoke the pretended army man. “I
shall feel that my duty to the admiralty and war
office has been remiss if I fail to secure your valuable
services. I am aware of your opposition to
leaving your native country. I also appreciate your
wish to remain neutral in regard to any actual warfare.
That can be arranged. What we ask of you
is to act as an instructor. Please think it over,”
and he turned aside.</p>
<p>“Now, then,” broke out Hiram promptly as the
lieutenant sauntered away, “what is that fellow
really after, Dave?”</p>
<p>“Why, Hiram, according to his own story he is
a representative from the aviation department of
the British war office. He has made a very creditable
showing—and he offers me all expenses paid
abroad, where he says a yearly contract of several
thousand dollars will be offered.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='7' id='Page_7'></span>“I don’t like him. Why, say, he reminds me of
one of the funny cartoons that new tramp friend of
yours drew for us last evening.”</p>
<p>“Hello!” exclaimed Dave, glancing hastily at
his watch and then at the hangar. “He’s some
sleeper; isn’t he, that tramp?”</p>
<p>The young airman referred to a new character
who had incidentally come across their path the day
previous. He was a tramp, a little above the average,
but still frowsy, hungry and penniless. His
humor had made an impression on the boys. They
had fed him and he had asked for work to repay
them. He was sober, and he looked honest, Dave
had consented to his sleeping in the hangar.</p>
<p>“I guess it’s the first comfortable bed the poor
fellow has had for a long time,” explained Hiram.
“Say, Dave, he must have been a good artist once,
to draw those faces as cleverly as he did last evening.”</p>
<p>“Yes, he certainly has a sort of genius about
him,” began Dave, when there was a sudden and
startling interruption.</p>
<p>From Dave’s hangar there came a dull explosion.
Both of the young aviators made a rush in its direction,
wondering what accident had happened.</p>
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