<h2 id='chap04'>CHAPTER IV</h2>
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<div>THE UNDER DOG</div>
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<p class='c011'>“I’m not going to stand that!” suddenly shouted
Hiram, and he started a spiral descent, on the spur
of the moment.</p>
<p>The young airman was warm-hearted and impulsive.
Hiram was usually in the midst of any
“scrimmage” going on in his vicinity, but it was
generally when his sympathy, or chivalry, were
aroused from interest in others. Just now all that
was manly in him awakened his natural championship
of “the under dog in a fight.”</p>
<p>Just below him was a wide swampy spot, and
about forty feet from the solid land, edging it on
one side, were two men. One of them, portly and
mean-faced, was waving a cane and shouting
angrily at a younger companion. This individual
was wading stumblingly towards him. His feet
were mired in the soft, mushy soil, and the water
came up to his waist.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='31' id='Page_31'></span>Upon a little swamp-island was a ragged, barefooted
boy of about sixteen. He had a broad piece
of tree bark in his hand. This he was using as a
scoop. Dipping it down in the black, watery mire
near the edge of the swamp, he would lift it aloft.
Then with a dash and a swing he would fling it at
the retreating man in the water.</p>
<p>At a glance Hiram read the situation. The boy
looked like a half-starved runaway. The old man
resembled some cruel relative, or guardian. He was
in a fury. Suddenly he seized a flat stone at his
feet, and sent it whizzing through the air. It landed
against the boy’s cheek, drawing the blood.</p>
<p>“Now’s your chance—make for him!” cried the
older man.</p>
<p>His younger and mired helper half turned, but it
was to find the boy not yet out of the ring. The latter
staggered slightly under the blow he had received,
and the bark scoop dropped from his hand.
He quickly picked it up, however, and sent into the
face of his returning foe a deluge of black, blinding
muck. The man rubbed his eyes, veered about again
and made for the shore.</p>
<p>The irate old man was brandishing his cane, and
shouting. He seemed to be censuring his defeated
aide, who, dripping and bespattered, stood disgustedly
on dry land.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='32' id='Page_32'></span>“They’re trying to corner that boy, and he’s too
plucky to let them,” decided Hiram. “There goes
another stone. Good! it missed, and the boy is
safe under cover.”</p>
<p>The lad had slipped behind a tree, but he kept the
scoop in his hand. The two men gesticulated and
parleyed. Finally the old man pointed toward a
little settlement about a mile away. His companion
started in that direction. The old man
mopped his head with his handkerchief. Then he
sat down under the shade of a tree as if exhausted
with rage and his unusual exercise.</p>
<p>“He’s sent for help; maybe for the police,” reflected
Hiram. “Right or wrong, the boy looks in
need of a friend. I’m going to know the ins and
outs of this affair.”</p>
<p>So far no one of the three persons in sight had
caught a view of the descending machine, so absorbed
had they been in the conflict in which they
were engaged. At the sound of the snort of the
exhaust of the aeroplane, however, the barefooted
lad started nervously, and looked up.</p>
<p>The <i>Scout</i> had landed in the middle of a clear
spot edged by some bushes. Hiram who had some
time since shut off the power, faced the astonished
lad not twenty feet away from him.</p>
<p>“Hello!” he hailed, leaping out, and advancing.
“What’s the trouble here?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='33' id='Page_33'></span>For a second or two the lad did not speak. The
startling appearance of airship and pilot seemed to
benumb him. He looked appealingly at Hiram, as
though trying to figure out whether his strange and
unexpected arrival meant help or harm. Then,
something in the friendly face of the newcomer
seemed partially to reassure him. His wan face
twitched and his lips puckered.</p>
<p>“I’m in trouble,” he said—“terrible trouble.”</p>
<p>“Those men, I suppose?” questioned Hiram,
pointing to the spot across the watery space.</p>
<p>“Yes, I’ve been on a run for hours, till I’m
ready to drop. I thought I was safe here on this
island, but they hunted me out. I’ve been fighting
them off for nearly an hour.”</p>
<p>“Who are they, anyway?” asked Hiram.</p>
<p>“That old man claims to be my uncle. The
other fellow he sent to town to get a constable, and
hunt me out, is one of the half a dozen bad men he’s
in with. Oh, he’s led me a terrible life! I just had
to break away from him. I couldn’t stand it any
longer. Oh, is there any way to keep me out of
their hands?”</p>
<p>The speaker looked up in a beseeching way. The
tears were running down his wasted cheeks. Hiram
was much stirred.</p>
<p>“Say, I’ll do anything, any time, for a fellow in
the fix you’re in, if I believe he’s right!” he cried
valiantly. “I think you are. That old man has seen
us now. Look at him rage.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='34' id='Page_34'></span>By this time the older man, on the mainland, had
caught sight of the newcomer and of the machine
that had brought Hiram to the rescue. He leaped
to his feet, and seized his cane. He ran, brandishing
it, to the edge of the water.</p>
<p>“Hey, say; you there!” he yelled. “Whoever
you are, don’t you dare to interfere. The law will
soon be here, and attend to that young rascal.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it will be all over for me when the constable
comes,” choked out the lad by Hiram’s side.
“Please, please help me, if you can! I don’t care
for myself. It’s my little sister. They could hammer
me, and I’d grin and bear it, but when they began
on her I simply had to get away.”</p>
<p>“Little sister—what? Where?” inquired Hiram,
in perplexity.</p>
<p>“Look there,” was the response, and the boy
parted some bushes. Hiram uttered a wondering
and a pitying cry, as he looked over the shoulder of
his guide and saw a little girl, not more than four
years of age. She was lying asleep on the dry grass,
her head pillowed on a coat, evidently belonging to
the lad, her brother. Her attire was as torn and
threadbare as his own. Her face showed tear
stains and exhaustion.</p>
<p>“Oh, dear! Dear!” murmured the pitying
Hiram at the sight of such forlorn misery.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='35' id='Page_35'></span>“If you don’t think I’m telling you the truth, just
look there!” cried the lad brokenly, and he leaned
over and gently pulled loose the poor thin dress
covering the child. Across her shoulders were half
a dozen dark welts.</p>
<p>“That man over there did that,” sobbed the barefooted
boy. “Wouldn’t you run away for that?
Wouldn’t you want to hit that mean man over
yonder, if he treated a sister of yours that way?”</p>
<p>Hiram Dobbs fired up in a flash. He ran forward
and shook his fist at the man in view. Then
he looked in the direction of the town. The messenger
sent thither was out of sight. Hiram cooled
down.</p>
<p>“That fellow will soon be back with the officers of
the law,” he said. “We mustn’t lose any time, I
suppose. Do you know what that is?” he questioned
his companion, pointing to the <i>Scout</i>.</p>
<p>“It’s an airship; isn’t it?” asked the boy. “I’ve
seen one or two of them before.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it’s a biplane,” explained Hiram.
“There’s a second seat in it, but it can’t carry a
very heavy load, but I am sure, though, it will hold
you and your sister. Pick up that poor little thing
and I’ll show you how to get aboard. You’re not
afraid?” he questioned.</p>
<p>“Me? No. I’d jump aboard a balloon if it
would get little Lois safe out of the clutches of old
Martin Dawson!” cried the lad.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" title='36' id='Page_36'></span>The little girl stirred and moaned, as her brother
lifted her in his arms. Hiram piloted him with his
burden to the side of the <i>Scout</i>. He helped him
step over the controls, eased him back into the seat
and strapped him in, the little one in his lap.</p>
<p>“Snug and safe,” he spoke. “All you’ve got to
do is to shut your eyes if you get dizzy. Now then,
you old tyrant!” added Hiram speaking in the direction
of the storming stamping man across from
them, “we’ll set you a pace you couldn’t follow
with all the constables in creation.”</p>
<p>The young aviator had to make three different
efforts to clear the ground. It was not a very good
spot for a start. Finally, however, the <i>Scout</i> gained
enough momentum and made a graceful dart up
into the air.</p>
<p>“Law!—stop!—arrest!”—fuming, and shaking
his cane, the old man cried in disjointed fragments
frantic threats after the vanishing air craft.</p>
<p>“Look there!” chuckled Hiram to the passenger
behind him. Then he laughed outright, and, notwithstanding
his anxiety and his miseries, the boy
laughed, too.</p>
<p>His persecutor, eyes fixed aloft, following the
vanishing <i>Scout</i>, had not heeded his steps. Coming
too near the slimy edge of the swamp he lost his
balance. With a splash he went flat, face first, into
a bed of black sticky mud.</p>
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