"We may stay here for several days, I don't know exactly how long,"
the young aviator told his assistant.

"You don't suppose that the Dawsons and the Drifter are anywhere
near here, do you?" inquired Hiram.

"Perhaps not, but we are near Ironton, on the American side of Lake
Superior. If Mr. Price's theories are all right, that fellow,
Ridgely, will begin his new operations somewhere in this district."

"I see," nodded Hiram. "What are we to do now--sleep?"

"As much as we like for the next eight or ten hours."

"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?"