"Look here, Dashaway, our men are looking for your airship, and that means your friend, too, of course. I've got to go to Brantford, but I shall leave word that they must look after your friend, and let you go the minute I send back word that the coast is clear for them to scatter." "But what about the Drifter, Mr. Ridgley?" persisted Dave. "It is the property of my employers. I came after it, and I want it." A faint smile of mingled amusement and admiration crossed the face of Ridgely. Reckless fellow that he was, he could not fail to recognize the fact that Dave, indeed, had business to attend to. "You take it pretty cool, Dashaway," he observed. "Because I am in the right," asserted Dave, "as you well know. The Dawsons are malicious people. I want you to warn them that if they do, any unnecessary injury to the Drifter, it will make it the worse for them in the final reckoning that is bound to come." "I don't think they will do the airship any injury." "You don't know them as I do. Desperate fellows like the Dawsons will do anything at times." "Dashaway, don't you think you are rather hard on them--and on me?" "I know the Dawsons--I don't know much about you." "I am not so bad as you think I am." "Then why don't you set me free?" "We won't discuss that, now. You had better think it over." "I have thought it over. I am grateful to you for saving me, but--well at present I can't do anything." "You mean, you won't." "Well, have it that way if you wish." "You'll be sorry some day," said Dave, bluntly. Ridgely left the room. He closed the door after him with an assurance to Dave that things would be "all right." Just then there was the sound of some one hurrying into the next room, and an excited voice shouted out in an exultant tone: "Say, father, we've got the other one, too!" CHAPTER XXIII HIRAM'S ADVENTURES The young aviator at once recognized the voice in the adjoining room which spoke the excited, words: "We've got the other one, too!" It was Jerry Dawson who had spoken. Dave knew that the statement could refer to no other than his missing chum. Dave was in something of a flutter of suspense. Then his eye brightened and a cheery smile overspread his face, as he caught the words in a dearly familiar tone: "Say, do you want to kill a fellow?" It was Hiram who spoke, in a resentful and disgusted voice. Its accents were as pert and ringing as ever, and Dave was overjoyed to know that his loyal comrade was alive and apparently unhurt. "Say, Dawson," here broke in Ridgely, "I want to speak to you." "Put this fellow in with Dashaway," ordered Jerry, and then the door of Dave's prison place was pulled open. A familiar form came limping and stumbling across the threshold, and the door was slammed to and locked after him. "Hiram!" cried Dave in genuine delight.