lifted her in his arms. Hiram piloted him with his burden to the side of the Scout. He helped him step over the controls, eased him back into the seat and strapped him in, the little one in his lap.
“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.”
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 Scout gained enough momentum and made a graceful dart up into the air.
“Law! – stop! – arrest!” – fuming, and shaking his cane, the old man cried in disjointed fragments frantic threats after the vanishing air craft.
“Look there!” chuckled Hiram to the passenger behind him. Then he laughed outright, and, notwithstanding his anxiety and his miseries, the boy laughed, too.
His persecutor, eyes fixed aloft, following the vanishing Scout, 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.
CHAPTER V
THE BIG EVENT
Not a word was spoken by either Hiram or his passenger as the Scout took its average altitude. The former was busy at his post. As to the other, holding the sleeping child in his lap, he sat like one entranced. The rescue from unfriendly hands, the odd situation in which he found himself, the novelty of a flight he had never before anticipated, fairly overcame him.
The able young pilot set out on a glide of easy progress. Then he had time to speak a few words to his fellow passenger.
“Comfortable?” he inquired.
“I could stay here forever!” ardently breathed, rather than spoke, the boy. “I never dreamed of such a wonderful thing as this airship. Oh, but you must know a lot, to be able to fly around up here in this way!”
“Huh! you’d ought to see what my chum, Dave Dashaway, can do,” vaunted the loyal Hiram. “Well, we’ve got away from that old rascal back there, anyhow.”
“I hope I may never see him again,” replied the lad with a shudder. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget what you’ve done for us in all our troubles.”
“What’s your idea now?” inquired Hiram in an off-handed way. “I suppose you had some plan when you gave that old man the slip?”
“Well, yes, I had,” was the reply. “I was thinking of poor little Lois only, though. I was trying to get to a place called Benham.”
“Where’s that?” asked Hiram.
“It’s about fifty miles from the town near the island where you came across me,” explained the boy. “I was making for the railroad when Mr. Dawson and the man with him came up with me. I thought if I could do that, and get into an empty box car, or something like that, with little Lois, we might get a ride clear to Benham. Then I would know what to do.”
“And what is that?” inquired Hiram, with interest.
“There’s a children’s home there. I’ve heard all about it. I don’t know anybody there, but I’m sure they would take in Lois. If I can only get her in a safe, comfortable place for a time, I’ll soon find work, and earn a home for her,” he said eagerly.
“You’ve got some good ideas,” commented Hiram, “and I can see you are of the right sort. I’ll take you to Benham. I don’t exactly know where it is, but it will not be hard to find out. You just forget all your troubles, and take it easy back there, and I’ll do the rest.”
After running about twenty miles, keeping well in line with the towns and settlements dotting the landscape beneath and ahead of them, Hiram descended at the edge of a little village. He left his passenger in charge of the machine, and was gone about half an hour. When he returned he brought with him a package of food and a bottle of milk.
The little child had awakened by this time. Her brother had evidently made her understand what had transpired, for she regarded the young airman in a friendly, grateful way, and prattled out new thanks when Hiram invited her to the modest but appetizing meal he had provided.
“I’ve got our bearings now, and can get you to Benham straight as an arrow,” reported Hiram. “You didn’t tell me your name,” he added, looking his companion searchingly in the eyes, inviting his confidence, for he was curious to learn more about him.
His companion hesitated, flushed, and acted confused and undecided. Then he said frankly:
“I’ve often thought if I ever got free of Mr. Dawson that I would take a new name, and get thousands of miles away from him, so he could never find me again. I’ve got to tell you anything you want to know, though. My name is Bruce Beresford. My sister and I are orphans. That man, Dawson, has always had a legal hold on us, and he has treated us cruelly. I suppose there are hundreds of fellows in the world just as unfortunate as I am, but when you have a little sister like Lois to look after, and protect – ”
There the speaker broke down. Hiram was full of genuine pity for the two waifs. He, too, admired the fidelity of the thoughtful and affectionate brother. He did not ask any more questions. It seemed to be a simple case – two unprotected orphans cruelly treated by a heartless guardian.
As they neared Benham Hiram landed at the edge of the place, so as not to attract undue attention to the biplane or his companions.
“I’m interested enough in you to wait here, and have you report how you get on with your arrangements about the little girl,” he said to Bruce Beresford.
“You’re taking a heap of trouble for a stranger,” murmured his companion.
“You’re no stranger,” declared Hiram. “I seem to have known you a long time, although I’ve only been with you a couple of hours. I guess it’s because you’re square and honest. Go ahead, and good luck to you!”
The girl waved her thin little hand to Hiram until they were out of sight. The young aviator then busied himself about the machine. He was so engrossed in his task that he was not conscious of the flight of time, when Bruce Beresford came running into sight with a radiant face.
“It’s all right,” he proclaimed. “They’ve taken in little Lois, just as if she was an own child. The matron kissed her, and cried over her bruises. Of course I didn’t tell them anything about Mr. Dawson by name. I’ve agreed to send the home ten dollars each month as soon as I get work. Oh, what a relief! and how easy I can do it,” and the speaker threw out his arms with a gesture that seemed to say he was ready for the hardest work in the world if he could find it.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” said Hiram. “What’s the matter with your coming with me? I’ve got a famous chum, and I’m sure he’ll take to you. I’m certain, too, he can get you a place somewhere.”
“You’re awful kind,” responded Bruce, “but I would like to stay around Benham here until I see how Lois gets on. She might miss me. Dawson might trace us. I can get some odd jobs around town for a few weeks, I am sure. Then, soon as I know Lois is safe and contented, I’ll branch out in a bigger city.”
“Well, you’ve got the right spirit,” encouraged Hiram. “I want you to keep trace of us. Maybe we can help you out. You’ll always be able to locate us through this address,” and Hiram gave his new friend a card, naming the present headquarters of himself and Dave. He could see the tears of gratitude and gladness shining in the eyes of Bruce as he sailed aloft.
“Glad I helped him,” soliloquized Hiram. “Poor fellow! And that tiny little midget of a sister! And that big, mean old Dawson! I hope he got a good soaking! Hope I run across this Beresford boy again, too. He’s the right sort!”
The young airman had put the Scout away in the hangar in good order, after a careful clean up, and was ready to sit down on the bench out in the open air, when