"Where did you come from, Mister?" pressed the persistent Hiram.

"Why--well, I came from up north. Own a launch. Had some business
this way, and got well on my way till the craft struck."

Dave noticed as the man spoke that it was in a hesitating, evasive
way. He seemed anxious to change the conversation, for he said:

"You are taking me to the Columbus aero field?"

"Yes, we belong there," answered Dave.

"Some people there named Dawson?"

"Yes, father and son."

"That's it. Here, now?"

"Oh, yes, they follow the different meets."

"Why, then, say," observed the man, "if you will just get me up
against them, I shall be pleased. You see, they're friends of mine.
They'll take care of me."

Dave gave the man a look. Hiram pulled a face at him behind his
back. That settled it with Hiram. In his mind he was sure that
anybody who knew the Dawsons in a friendly way could not possibly
amount to much.