Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
Dave Dyer, a sallow woman with a thin prettiness devoted to experiments in religious cults, illnesses, and scandal-bearing, shook her finger at Carol and trilled, "You're a naughty one! I don't believe you appreciate the honor, when you got into the Jolly Seventeen so easy!" Mrs. Chet Dashaway nudged her neighbor at the second table.
"Dashaway, yes?" he interrogated, and as Dave bowed assent he added: "Thought I'd wait and see you, although our young friend here has been pretty dear." "About what?" asked Dave. "Ridgely." "Who is he?" "The man you rescued from the lake last evening. As I have told your friend, the man is a bad one, and we have chased him up and down the lakes clear from Detroit." "He is a criminal, then?"
Only the noon of that day they had got the little biplane ready for a cross country spurt. Then the rain came on, and they decided to defer the dash till the weather was more propitious. Dave was looking over the machinery, when a gruff hail startled him. "Hello!" challenged old Grimshaw, appearing at the open doorway of the hangar. "What you up to, Dashaway?" Dave flushed guiltily.
Ridgely looked troubled. He was thoughtfully, silent for a moment or two. Then he said: "Look here, Dashaway, our men are looking for your airship, and that means your friend, too, of course. I've got to go to Brantford, but I shall leave word that they must look after your friend, and let you go the minute I send back word that the coast is clear for them to scatter."
"It's not pleasant here, I can tell you," said Dave, "and the whole thing is pretty high handed, don't you think so, Mr. Ridgely?" "I don't think it, Dashaway, I know, it. See here, I've got nothing against you. On the contrary, I owe you a good deal. I'm not forgetting that you saved my life when my launch struck the rocks near Columbus."
"It's me," chuckled Hiram. "Stole a march on you. Nearly dry," he added, shaking his clinging garments. "And oh! what a swim." "You have been to the mainland?" questioned Dave. "Where else? When you said 'swim' last night, it gave me an idea. I'm some swimmer, Dave Dashaway. Always was. Took the prize in a contest in Plum Creek back at home one Fourth of July.
In a storm like the one to-night, you my need me worse than ever. Anyhow, Dave Dashaway, I won't let you go alone." The young airman looked at his loyal, earnest friend with pleasure and pride. Hiram was only a crude country boy. He had, however, shown diamond in the rough, and Dave appreciated the fact. Hiram had made several ground runs in an aeroplane.
"I intend to start at once for the Lake Superior district. I shall set my men at work clear along the line and over the border, to try and find a trace of my man. I haven't an airship, though, you must remember, and wouldn't know how to run one if I had. That's where you come in, Dashaway. You search the air, I'll watch the land.
"No. Just this wallop over my eye and a twisted ankle. Thought it was broken at first, but I guess it isn't." "How did it all happen?" Peggy explained. Jimsy whistled. "What make of machine is your car, Fanning?" he asked. "A Dashaway," was the rejoinder. "The same type as ours," exclaimed young Bancroft. "They are the best and stanchest cars on the market.
Then he sat looking fixedly at it, as if he was studying some hard problem. Hiram stood it as long as he could. Then he burst out impetuously: "What is it, Dave?" "I'm trying to find out," was the abstracted reply. "Who is it from?" "The Interstate Aeroplane Co." That name meant a good deal to Hiram Dobbs, and a great deal more to Dave Dashaway.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking