Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane Part 37

"Just follow us," was the surly response.

"Give a hand, Jerry."

The two Dawsons lifted the bundle at their feet and started from the room. There were sounds as if some one was pounding on the door at the front of the building. The Dawsons, however, did not go that way. They quickened their steps, the captives were led through several rooms, and finally a door at the rear of the place was opened.

"Hold them tight now," ordered Jerry.

"Yes, and if they make any outcry quiet them the way you know how,"

added his father.

Dave and Hiram were surprised to find themselves now in complete darkness.

"We're going through some kind of a tunnel," whispered the young aviator to his companion a moment later.

Their captors forced them along in the steps of the Dawsons. They must have proceeded several hundred feet thus, when the tunnel grew lighter. Then they arrived at an exit letting out into a deep, narrow ravine.

"They must have taken this route to escape from the revenue officers," Dave told his companion, in a guarded tone.

"Shall we set up a fight and yell?" proposed the audacious Hiram.

"Not with that broken arm of yours and four to one," dissented Dave.

"Broken arm, nothing! Say-h.e.l.lo! Why, they're taking us to their airs.h.i.+p!" exclaimed Hiram.

They had come upon the Drifter at a point where the ravine spread out and a long level s.p.a.ce showed.

"Now then, brisk is the word," spoke the elder Dawson.

He and his son carried the bundle up to the Drifter and managed to stow it aboard. Jerry climbed into the pilot's seat. His father drew some stout double cord from his pocket.

"Tie up those boys hand and foot," he ordered grimly.

"See here, Mr. Dawson," spoke up Dave, "what are you going to do with us?"

"You'll find that out very soon," was the gruff reply.

The two men proceeded to secure the arms and feet of the captives.

Dave knew it was useless to resist the rough treatment he received.

Hiram was not so patient.

"Say, this is an outrage!" he cried out.

"What's the matter with you?" demanded Jerry Dawson, leaning from his seat with a scowl on his face.

"What do you want to tie a one-armed fellow up for?" grumbled Hiram.

"That's so," said the elder Dawson. "Just attend to his feet and one arm. No use making him safer. He won't be very dangerous with only a broken arm free."

First Dave and then Hiram were lifted into the seats behind the pilot's post. As has been said, the Drifter could carry five pa.s.sengers, and they were not crowded or uncomfortable.

"They are going to carry us away with them," whispered Hiram to his companion.

"Let them," replied the young aviator. "It may give us a chance to outwit them someplace along the line."

Hiram chuckled. Dave stared at him strangely, but his doughty companion did not explain what he had in his mind.

"All ready," announced Jerry, his hand on his lever.

His father got into the seat behind him.

"Wait a minute," he spoke to his son. "You two," he added to the men who had accompanied them, "better get to your friends, divide up your plunder and make yourselves scarce as soon as you can."

"That's what we intend to do," replied one of the men.

"Hold on!" exclaimed his companion, suddenly turning around at the echo of a loud shout.

"What's the trouble now, I wonder?"

"Hey, stop the airs.h.i.+p! Stop them! Stop them!" yelled the strident voice of a man coming pell mell down the ravine path. He was in a frantic state of excitement and waving his arms wildly.

"Don't lose a second," spoke Dawson quickly.

Jerry gave the starter a whirl. Dave noticed that his father was quite excited and kept watching the advancing runner.

"Stop them, I tell you!" yelled this individual whom Dave recognized as one of the three individuals left behind at the hut with the other bundle.

"What for?" shouted one of the two men near the airs.h.i.+p.

"Robbers-thieves! That bundle they gave us!"

"What about it?"

"No silks--nothing but a lot of worthless truck. They've cheated us and are making away with the real plunder."

Whiz! up went the airs.h.i.+p. The three men ran after it. The newcomer shook his fist vengefully after the machine. The other two picked up rocks and hurled them in its wake.

"O. K.," chuckled Jerry, as the Drifter shot far out of reach of their deluded confederates.

"Do your level best, Jerry," spoke his father.

"The revenue men may have another airs.h.i.+p in commission."

"Oh, I guess not," retorted Jerry airily. "Say, what about the one these fellows had?"

"They know and won't tell. Some of crowd will find it, though I told them if they did to dismantle it. They can get something for the old junk."

"About all they will get, eh?" leered Jerry.

"I'm thinking so."