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Updated: June 9, 2025
He was not surprised when an object same shooting downwards from the Drifter. It struck one of the plane wires and then dropped earthwards. "Something's whipped loose," spoke Hiram quickly. "It's one of the elevator wires," said Dave, darting a quick glance at the spot. "This won't do." Now it was an over-water flight with no measured course to pursue.
"Yes," she added, smiling faintly, "now that you speak of it, I remember he did talk quite a little. He is a very interesting man." "Good-looking too," said Sanderson; "an' smart. He saw the prospects of this thing right off." "Didn't you see them?" she questioned quickly. "Oh, that," he said, flushing. "If the Drifter hadn't told me mebbe I wouldn't have seen."
The number of hands on a herring drifter used to be eleven, which seemed excessive till the labour of hauling nearly two miles of nets by hand is remembered. Now that almost every drifter which goes into the North Sea has a donkey engine to do the hardest work of the hauling the number aboard the dandies is lessened to nine. This letter to Mrs.
Sanderson's trip northeastward had resulted partly from a desire to escape the monotony of old scenes and familiar faces; and partly because one day while in "town" he had listened attentively to a desert nomad, or "drifter," who had told a tale of a country where water was to be the magic which would open the gates of fortune to the eager and serious-minded.
"I sign myself there 'A Passer-by. My real name is Burton. Until lately I was an auctioneer's clerk. Now I am a drifter what you will." "You wrote those impressions of St. James's Park at dawn?" she asked eagerly. "I did." She smiled a smile of relief. "Of course I knew that you were a reasonable person," she pronounced. "Why couldn't you have said so at once? Come along to tea."
A brief explanation was made to the officer, and a man hired to watch the Drifter until they returned. Then Dave and Hiram hurried to the hotel in Anseton where Mr. Price made his headquarters. The revenue officer was found. He listened to the story of the two young aviators in amazement and admiration. Then he reported results of his own efforts.
"Of course that is not possible, now that this Dale affair has come up," said Mr. King. "As to a search for the stolen aircraft, that is going to be no easy task, I'm thinking. Have the Interstate people no theory as to the way the Drifter was stolen, and the motive for the theft?" "I had better tell you all I know about it, Mr. King." "Do so, Dashaway."
"There are three you can count them in their airship," said Hiram, shading his eyes and craning his neck. "Four," corrected Dave. "The Drifter has a capacity of five ordinary people, Mr. Randolph told me." The Monarch II made a magnificent slanting rise up into the air. Dave knew the splendid qualities of the machine under his control. They included an ability for a quick light ascent.
The boy who had run away with the Drifter had features strongly marked and not readily forgotten. The picture had been taken in the open street. Jerry was standing there talking 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."
The drifter that had altered course slowly came round again when the last of the Destroyers swept past, and the three figures in the bows ducked as she shipped a bucket of spray and flung it aft over the tiny wheel-house. One of the figures turned and stared after the retreating hulls. "Confound 'em," he said.
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