"Of the most important kind."

"What is it?"

It was in order for Dave to explain details, and did so briefly.

"H'm," commented Grimshaw, when his pupil concluded his explanation.

"And so you thought you'd steal away without letting me know it?"

"Oh, now, Mr. Grimshaw!" Dave hastened to say--"that was not the spirit of the thing at all."

"Go ahead, Dashaway."

"Well, then, I think so very much of you I didn't want it to worry you."

"Roll her out," was all that Grimshaw would say, placing his one hand on the tail of the biplane. "Hold on for a minute. Gasoline supply?"

"Twenty-five gallons."

"That will do. Lubricating oil-all right. Now then, lad, hit that head wind every time, and you'll make it, sure."

CHAPTER III

A WILD NIGHT RIDE

"Go!"

It was less than half an hour after the appearance of Grimshaw on the scene that the Baby Racer was all ready for its stormy night's flight.

The old aviator had fussed and poked about the dainty little biplane, as if it was some valued friend he was sending out into the world to try its fortune. Every once in a while he had growled out some brief advice to Dave in his characteristic way.

Then he directed and helped, while two field men started the machine on its forward run.

"Look out for telegraph poles, and watch your fuel tank," was Grimshaw's final injunction.

Dave knew the Baby Racer just as an engineer understands his locomotive. Daylight or dirk, once aloft the young aviator did not doubt his own powers. The moment the Racer left the ground, however, with a switch of her flapping tail, Dave knew that he was to have no easy fair-weather cruise.

"Slow it is," the watchful, excited Hiram heard him say, working the wheel as cautiously as an automobilist rounding a sharp curve.

Dave saw that everything depended on getting a start and reaching a higher level. He kept the angle of ascent small, for the maximum power of the engine could not be reached in a moment. The starting speed naturally let down with the machine ascending an inclined plane.

"It's slow enough, that's sure," remarked Hiram. "It's the wind, isn't it, Dave?"

"We don't want to slide back in the air or be blown over backwards,"

replied Dave, eye, ear, and nerve on the keenest alert.

The wind resistance caused a growing speed reduction. The sensitiveness of the elevating rudder warned Dave that he must maintain a perfect balance until they could strike a steady path of flight. Hiram's rapt gaze followed every skillful maneuver of the master hand at that wheel.

"Good for you!" he chirped, as Dave worked the ailerons to counteract the leaning of the machine. A swing of the rudder had caused the biplane to bank, but quick as a flash Dave righted it by getting the warping control on the opposite tack, avoiding a bad spill.

The machine was tail heavy as Dave directed a forward plunge, coasting slightly. He had, however, pretty good control of the center of gravity.

It was now only a question of fighting the stiff breeze that prevailed, and keeping an even balance.

Hiram's eyes sparkled as the Racer volplaned, caught the head wind at just the right angle, and struck a course due northwest like a sail boat under perfect control.

The engine was near the operator's seat, and on the post just under the wheel were the spark and throttle levers on the fuselage beam.

The steering wheel was a solid piece of wood about eight inches in diameter with two holes cut into it to fit the hands.

The pa.s.senger's seat now occupied by Hiram was in the center line of the machine, so that, filled or vacant, the lateral balance was not affected.

Hiram knew all about the monoplane dummy or the aerocycle with treadle power for practice work which he had operated under old Grimshaw's direction. As to the practical running of a biplane aloft, however, that was something for him to learn. He was keenly alive to every maneuver that Dave executed, and he stored in his mind every new point he noticed as the Racer seemed fairly started on its way.

"Keep me posted, Dave," spoke the willing Hiram. "If anything happens I want to know what you expect me to do."

"I don't intend to have anything happen if I can help it, Hiram,"

replied Dave. "This is a famous start."

"It's not half as bad as I thought it would be," said Hiram.

The rain had changed into a fine mist, but the breeze continued choppy and strong at times. Dave had gone over the course with Mr.

King in The Aegis twice in the daytime, and had an accurate idea of the route. However, he had landmarks to follow. What guided Dave were the lights of the various towns on the route to Kewaukee and railway signals. These were dimly outlined by a glow only at times, but Dave as he progressed felt that he was keeping fairly close to his outlined programme.

Hiram chuckled and warbled, as he knew from Dave's manner and the way the Baby Racer acted that his friend had it under full control.

Our hero attempted no fancy flying nor spurts of swiftness. Up to the end of the first hour the flight had proven far less difficult than he had antic.i.p.ated.

"There's Medbury," said Dave at length, inclining his head towards a cl.u.s.ter of electric lights below and somewhat beyond them. "That means one-third of our journey covered."

"It's great what you and the Baby Racer can do, Dave," cried the admiring and enthusiastic country boy. "We're going to make it, aren't we?"

"If the wind doesn't change and we meet with no mishaps," answered Dave.

A stretch of steady sailing was an excuse for Hiram to share a brief lunch of ham sandwiches with Dave. The thoughtful Grimshaw had provided these at the last moment of the departure of the biplane.

By the watch Mr. King had given him on the occasion of winning a race for the Aegis, Dave found that it was a little after two o'clock when the Racer pa.s.sed a town named Creston.

"It's only twenty miles farther, Hiram," announced the young aviator with satisfaction.

"And plenty of juice in the tank left to go on," added Hiram. "This is a trip to talk about, eh, Dave?"

Dave nodded and smiled. He suddenly gave renewed attention to wheel and levers.

"Anything wrong?" inquired Hiram, noticing the movement.