"I'm ready," announced Hiram. "It's been fine and dandy up aloft there, but I notice that when it doesn't make a fellow hungry it does make him good and sleepy." "All right, we'll bunk down, Hiram. I don't think any one is likely to run across us in this out-of-the-way place." "I don't think so, either," responded Hiram, and was soon asleep and snoring. The breakfast programme of the previous morning was repeated later. Hiram called the whole thing a picnic, and was jolly and happy. "One thing, though," he said; "isn't something exciting going to happen soon, Dave?" "We ought to be pretty well satisfied with the splendid cruise of the Monarch II," suggested Dave. "Yes, but I'm getting anxious to run across some of the smugglers. I've read a lot about them in the papers and books. They must be great fellows to tackle, with their cutlasses, and walking the plank, and treasure hoards." "Why, Hiram," laughed Dave, "you're not thinking of smugglers." "What am I then?" "Pirates." "Oh, yes, that's so," agreed Hiram. "Well, the Dawsons are worse than pirates. They won't give up that airship without a tussle, I can tell you." "All I want to do is to locate them," said Dave. "The government will do the rest." Dave left the camp, as they called it, about noon. He had some difficulty in getting from the island to the mainland, as the soil was soggy and at places two feet deep with water. He accomplished the task, however, with only a slight wetting. The young aviator had been given the address, of one of Mr. Price's men at Ironton. He visited his office, but found him absent for the day. Then he wired his progress to the Interstate people and told them if necessary to reach, him at the Northern Hotel. Dave went to the hotel and made arrangement with the clerk as to mail and telegrams. He decided to remain in the vicinity of Ironton till he got in touch with the revenue officer's agent there. He was just leaving the hotel when one placed a hand on his shoulder, with the friendly words: "Why, hello, Dashaway." Dave turned quickly, startled for a moment. Then his face broke into smiles of warm welcome. "Mr. Alden," he said, and returned the friendly hand clasp of his companion. The chance meeting took Dave's mind back instantly to a most pleasant period of his experience since leaving his guardian's home at Brookville. It was Mr. Alden, the moving picture man, who had given Dave what might be called his first start in business life. Dave had posed for the "movies," and later he and Mr. King had taken a prominent part in some motion pictures bringing in the monoplane, the Aegis. "I didn't expect to see you way up here, Dashaway," spoke Mr. Alden. "How are you getting along?" "First class, thanks to the friendly help you gave me in the first place," responded the young aviator.