wonder what Mr. King will say?"

The young aviator had a good deal on his mind, enough to make the
average lad impatient. He had, however, learned a hard lesson of
discipline with his tyrannical guardian, old Silas Warner. Then,
too, since coming under the helpful influence of Mr. King, he had
acquired a certain self reliance that now stood him in good stead.

Running an airship took nerve, steadiness of purpose, a definite,
concrete way of looking at things. Dave knew in his own mind that
the Drifter was each hour speeding farther and farther away from the
haunts of men. He recalled the old adage, however, which says "the
more haste the less speed," and he determined to stick to the plan
he had mentally outlined at the start.

"I'm going to work on this affair slow but sure," he told himself.
"I think I can guess where the Drifter is headed for. If I am
right, I know that I shall find it."

Dave reached Columbus about dark. He went straight from the depot
to the aero grounds. The plan he had formed in his mind took in a
talk with Mr. King right away. The Baby Racer hangar, however, was
on his way to the Aegis quarters. As he neared it he saw a light in
the shed where the little biplane was housed. Dave went to the half
open door of the place to find Hiram Dobbs with a lantern puttering
about the machine.

"What have you been up to, Hiram?" challenged Dave.

"Why, hello! Got back? Good!" cried Hiram, rushing forward to