IIITempleton had not settled which among his many ideas to work at, when accident launched his imagination upon a new flight.One day the village was stirred to unusual excitement. Two items of local news, following quickly one upon the other, gave the folk so much matter for gossip that the amount of work they did was reduced fifty per cent. The first was that Nahum Noakes's final appeal had failed; the second, that young Wilfred Banks, the son of Squire Banks, one of the local magnates, had been seriously injured by the fall of an aeroplane.Mrs. Trenchard, having been "there and back," was full of the story."Ay me, to think of a nice pleasant young gentleman like Mr. Wilfred lying at death's door through one o' they dratted airyplanes! That venturesome he always was, as a little small chiel. 'Tis against Nature to try to fly like the birds, that's what I say, and what can you expect? The world do be turning topsy-turvy, and all through they Germans."That night, just as Eves had turned over to sleep, he was roused by a call from Templeton in his companion bed."What is it?" he murmured, drowsily."I've got an idea," was the reply."Well, sleep on it, old man.""You know very well that I can't get a wink till I see daylight.""Then you've got about five hours. Good night!""Of course I meant a light on the problem; you're so literal. You see, the evolution of a perfectly stable machine——"Eves interrupted with a groan."I suppose I must be a martyr," he said, "but I wish you'd arrange for your ideas to come in the morning. Fire away! I'll keep awake if I can, but cut it short.""You're a good sort, Tom. Really I'd like to know what you think of it. You see, an aeroplane ought to balance itself automatically, and I've got an idea for automatically adjusting the surfaces of the planes so that the machine will instantly adapt itself to gusts of wind, side-slips, and so on.""Jolly good idea! Good night.""Hold hard. You haven't heard the idea yet. My arrangement would be electric. Beyond the extremities of the frames I'd have a light framework on which an extension of the plane could be pushed out by a steel rod actuated by a small electric motor.""I can go to sleep at once, then, because that won't work. It means more weight.""No, no; we'll argue it out. Weight's becoming less and less important every day. Look at the weight of bombs an aeroplane can now lift. Anyhow, the point is that the motor would be controlled by the movement of the plane. A sphere moving in a horizontal channel would be affected by the slightest inclination of the plane. I'd arrange by a series of electrical contacts——""How?""I haven't worked out all the details yet; how could I? But the effect would be that the farther the sphere moved the farther the rod would push out the extension of the plane on the side required. And when the aeroplane had righted itself, the sphere would return to neutral.""My sleepy brain is fairly dazed with your rods and spheres and the rest. Hang all that! The question is, would the extension idea work? Would the lengthening of the planes meet the case?""Of course it would. It's easily proved. All you want is a glider.""Well, old man, the idea's ripping, and being a reasonable chap, you'll agree that you've got to go one step at a time. I don't say you're wrong, but treat me as a bit of a sceptic, who wants everything proved.""Very well; I'm not unreasonable. We'll set to work and make a glider; then you'll see.""Righto! Feel more easy now? Hope you won't wake in the night."Templeton was just dozing off when from Eves there came:"I say, Bob.""What?""You'll have to cut into your tenner at last. Bye-bye!"During the next week they did very little "work on the land." Farmer Trenchard, impressed as usual by Templeton's earnestness, allowed them as much leave as they wanted, and they devoted themselves during the hours of daylight to the manufacture of a glider. A journey to the nearest town and the cashing of the £10 note furnished them with the wood and the textile fabric they needed, and Templeton had sufficient skill in carpentry to fashion two wings, light enough for his purpose, yet strong enough to sustain him. His funds would not run to an electric motor, but he thought that, for his first experiments, the lengthening rod might be actuated by stout cords running over pulleys.The contrivance was finished after a week's hard work. Tested in the farmyard, the lengthening apparatus worked smoothly; it only remained to try it in the air. Templeton had already marked a suitable spot for the trial—a sloping field some little distance from the farm, too steep for cultivation, and occupied usually by cattle fattening for Coggins, the butcher. It was enclosed by a thick hedge except at the gate, and that was kept locked, and blocked with brushwood."I think perhaps we had better ask Coggins's leave to use his field," suggested Templeton."Don't do anything of the sort," replied Eves. "We don't want a crowd of yokels looking on. If the thing goes all right, you can invite the village to an exhibition."The morning chosen for the trial was warm and still. No danger from gusts of wind was to be anticipated. Mounting the glider on two wheels from the old tricycle, patched up for the occasion, they wheeled it up to the field and managed with some difficulty to hoist it over the gate, after having cleared a way through the obstructing brushwood. At the far end a few cattle were peacefully grazing. The well-cropped hill was a smooth inclined plane of springy turf.They carried the machine to the top."I bag first go," said Eves."No, I can't agree to that," said Templeton. "You see, though I'm pretty sure it will work all right, there's bound to be a certain risk, and as it's my idea I ought to test it.""That's no reason at all. Cooks never eat their own cake. Besides, if there is an accident, much better it should happen to me than you.I'mnot an inventor.""I still maintain——""Oh, don't let's waste time. Let's toss for it. Heads me, tails you. A use for my half-penny at last. Here goes."He spun the coin."Heads! There you are. Now fasten the straps on my shoulders, and give me a gentle shove off."The glider was not fastened to the wheels, Templeton's theory being that, having been started on them at the top of the hill, it would almost at once gain "lift" from the air. So it proved. After a few yards it rose slightly; a little farther on it was quite clear of the ground, and Eves, with legs bent and arms stretched out on the wings, enjoyed for a few brief seconds the exhilaration of aerial flight. Then, however, it began to tilt. Mindful of Templeton's careful instructions and the preliminary test in the farmyard, Eves tugged at the appointed rope, which should have thrown out an extension of the wing, and, according to Templeton's theory, have restored the balance. Unhappily the mechanism that had worked so smoothly before now proved treacherous. The machine swerved to the left, and crashed into a bramble-bush in the hedge at the foot of the hill.Templeton rushed down in great agitation, sprang into the hedge regardless of scratches, unloosed the straps, and hauled Eves out."I say, you're not hurt, old man?" he asked, anxiously."I'm pretty well pricked, confound the thing!" said Eves. "The wretched cord jammed.""But the theory's all right.""Hang the theory! Look here, old man— Hullo, here's old Noakes."Noakes, accompanied by a thick-set countryman in corduroys and leggings, had come over the crest of the hill just as the accident occurred, and run down almost on Templeton's heels."I've cotched 'ee," he cried, panting. "You're my witness, Ted Smail. Cotched in the act, the mischeevious young vipers. I'll have the law of un."[image]"'I'VE COTCHED 'EE,' HE CRIED.""My dear sir, I don't think it has anything to do with you," said Templeton. "My friend, as you see——""Your friend, and you too, be a-trespassing on my field and a-ruining my property, and the law'll have something to say about that.""Ruined a bramble-bush!" said Templeton."And the bush has ruined my clothes," Eves added."That there's my hedge, and you've been and knocked a hole in it, and——"At this moment his tirade was suddenly interrupted by a bellow behind him. A bull, excited by the vagaries of the glider, had trotted up from the far end of the field to investigate, and further roused, probably, by Noakes's loud tones and waving arms, threw down its head and charged. The men scattered. Eves and Templeton made for the gate and vaulted over. Noakes ran one way, his friend another. The bull plunged straight at the glider, sticking in the hedge, and smashed it to splinters. Then it dashed after Noakes, who, seeing no other outlet, flung himself into the ditch below the hedge and scrambled through the tangled lower branches only just in time to escape the animal's horns."We must offer to pay Noakes for the damage," said Templeton."Rot! We haven't done tuppence-ha'-penny worth; and how do we know it's his field?""I'm sure he wouldn't say so if it wasn't, and there's certainly a hole in the hedge. I'll just see what he says."Noakes, hatless, dishevelled, and scratched, was coming towards them."I'm willing to pay any reasonable sum for damages, Mr. Noakes," said Templeton."Are ye?" replied the man with a grin. "I be main glad to hear it. You shall have the bill, don't 'ee make no mistake about that. But I won't take no money 'cept by judge and jury."He passed on, and stood at the gate until his friend should find it convenient to join him.Two days later Constable Haylock came to the farm, and, with an apologetic air, handed to Eves and Templeton each a blue document, summoning them to appear at the justice court to answer a plaint of trespass and damage on the part of Philemon Noakes."This is serious," said Templeton. "You see, we've no defence. We did break his hedge and disturb his tenant's cattle, as he says. I wonder what the penalty is?""A fine of £5, old man, I expect," said Eves, cheerfully. "Don't you worry; I did the damage, and I can't pay.""I'm sureIcan't. That glider cost £7 16*s.* 4*d*. I haven't half £5.""Well, they'll give us seven days C.B., or whatever they call it, and you'll have to write to Aunt Caroline to bail us out. Jolly good idea! We'll be able to give her tips in food economy after a week of prison fare.""It's no joking matter. She'll be upset; no Templeton of our family has ever been in prison.""You don't say so! You'll make a record, then. Splendid!"On the appointed day they appeared before the justice."'Tis Squire Banks's day," whispered Haylock as they passed him at the door. "He baint such a hanging judge, so to speak it, as Sir Timothy."Noakes gave his evidence, Smail corroborated it, and Squire Banks asked the culprits what they had to say in their defence."It was like this, sir," began Eves, before Templeton could start; "my friend Templeton devotes a lot of time to trying experiments—working out ideas for useful inventions. When he heard of that accident to a flying man the other day"—the old gentleman looked interested—"he kept me awake at night talking over an idea for making an aeroplane automatically safe. I confess I was sceptical, and it's my fault all this happened, because it was to prove his theory to me that he made a glider; it cost him over £7, sir; and we couldn't find a better place to try it on than that hilly field. I'm afraid I was clumsy; at any rate, the thing came to grief——""But the principle of it is quite sound," Templeton put in."But, of course, you're not concerned with principles here, sir, but only with law," Eves went on. "We didn't know the field belonged to Mr. Noakes, or I assure you we wouldn't have touched it with a pole, and as to damage, my friend offered to pay any reasonable sum.""But didn't I understand that you caused the damage?" the squire interposed, his eyes twinkling. "That being the case, ought not the offer to pay have come from you?""I'm afraid it ought, sir; but—well, I've only got four and elevenpence halfpenny."There were smiles in the court at this ingenuous confession."Well, Mr. Templeton offered to pay," the squire went on. "What then?""Mr. Noakes wouldn't hear of it, sir," Eves answered."Is that so, Noakes?"Noakes had to confess that it was."Come, now, Noakes, brambles grow very fast, and any hedger will close the gap for eightpence. It's a trumpery matter. You young fellows can pay half-a-crown between you for the damage, and Noakes must pay his own costs; it's an unreasonable action. Call the next case.""Jolly old trump!" said Eves as they went out. "And I'm jolly glad the old boy's son is getting better."On reaching the farm, Templeton found awaiting him a letter from his aunt, written in reply to one he had sent her more than a week before. She explained the long delay by the fact that the letter had pursued her through three counties. "I am delighted to hear," she wrote, "that you have not yet spentanyof the money I sent you. It shows greatstrength of character. You will be pleased to hear that my lectures are agreat success. I expect to reach Polstead in about ten days, and I shall be so glad if you will do a little thing to prepare my way. My lectures arethoroughly practical; it is useless to talk about economical foods if the dear people cannot procure them. I want you to see Mr. Philemon Noakes for me; he is theprincipal tradesmanin the village; and ask him if he willvery kindlylay in a stock of certaincheaparticles of which I will send you a list. A personal interview is so much more satisfactory than a formal letter, and you will find Mr. Noakes avery civil and obliging person.""My hat!" cried Eves, laughing. "What a rag! I'll come with you, old man."Templeton looked worried.A GAS ATTACKIMr. Noakes made no further attempt to interfere with the irrigation of Farmer Trenchard's fields. The two lads repaired the dam, gave the parched ground a thorough soaking for two days and nights, then demolished the simple structure and allowed the stream to pursue its usual course.Templeton, meanwhile, had been anxiously weighing the claims of the other ideas that jostled in his brain. He wanted to perfect his automatic hair-cutter; to experiment with what he called, in advance, a "levitator"—a contrivance for enabling an aeroplane to rise more rapidly; to test his notion of a tar entanglement, and various other sound schemes. Unfortunately the incomplete hair-cutter had been confiscated by his head master, and it would take weeks to construct a new one. The levitator was out of the question at present, for it would cost a good deal more than the two pounds odd which remained out of his aunt's gift. Several ideas were unworkable for the same reason, and he had almost resolved on the tar entanglement when, with that suddenness to which inventors are accustomed, a quite new idea shot into his mind.He had been reading, in a war correspondent's dispatch, about the star shells and Verey lights which were used at night to throw a fitful illumination upon the hostile lines. Eves noticed that as he cleaned his teeth before going to bed he made frequent pauses, holding the tooth-brush motionless for some moments at a time."What's up, old man?" asked Eves, who was already in bed. "Got toothache?""No; I was thinking," replied Templeton, rubbing again. "You see——""But I can't hear through the bristles. Hurry up, or I shall be asleep."Templeton finished his toilet, blew out the light, and got into bed, sitting up and clasping his knees."Those flash-lights, you know—they don't last long enough. What our fellows want is some continuous illumination.""What about the moon?""You know perfectly well the moon doesn't shine for half the month.""I thought perhaps you'd invented an artificial moon. But expound, old bird.""Well, you know the prevailing wind in winter is from the west. Why shouldn't our men start relays of light balloons——""Balloons always are light.""I mean light-giving balloons. They'd float over the German lines and illuminate their whole positions with a steady continuous light.""The Huns would shoot 'em down.""Not easily, for they'd be dark.""Light and dark at the same time! Go on, Bobby; I'm sure you can prove black's white.""If you wouldn't interrupt, you'd see. The illuminant would be attached to the balloon by a long cord, and there'd be a shade like a lampshade over it, so that the balloon itself would be in darkness. It's easy enough to try.""How?""All you want is a dozen toy balloons, a few cubic feet of hydrogen, a slow match, and a little magnesium wire. There you have it on a small scale. Fill the balloons with hydrogen, tie 'em together, fasten a slow match and a bit of wire to each, light the match, and send the whole caboodle up.""But magnesium wire only burns for a second or two.""You really are an ass, Tom. We'd only use magnesium wire for our experiment; there are heaps of things that could be used with big balloons at the front.""You mean to try it, then?""Of course. Old Noakes has some toy balloons.""But what about the hydrogen? It doesn't smell, does it?""No. Why?""Only that I forget all my chemistry except the stinks. How do you make it?""By the action of an acid on a metal. Don't you remember Zn + H2SO4 = ZnSO4 + H2? Iron will do as well.""That's easy enough, then. But you'll want retorts, wash bottles, pneumatic troughs, and goodness knows what else. Bang goes the rest of your cash, Bob.""Nonsense! Mother Trenchard has some old pickle bottles, and we're not out to make a specially pure gas. All we'll have to buy will be a little acid, a few feet of glass tubing, and a rubber cork or two. Four or five shillings will buy the lot. We shall have to go to Weymouth for them.""Righto! That's a day off to-morrow."The morning post brought a letter from Aunt Caroline enclosing a list of foods which she wished Mr. Noakes to stock. Templeton read it solemnly, and handed it to Eves."I say, Mrs. Trenchard, what do you think of this?" cried Eves. "Things Bob's aunt is going to lecture about, you know. Haricot beans——""They want a deal of cooking, Mr. Eves," said Mrs. Trenchard. "You must soak 'em overnight, and boil 'em hours and hours. I have my doubts whether the village folk can spare the time.""Well, here's dried peas.""Do 'ee think the women 'll use 'em dried when the shucks are full of green? What can Miss Caroline be thinking of?""Tinned eggs, then.""Lawk-a-mussy, I was silly enough to buy one o' they tins once, and when I opened it—there now, never in my life did I come so near fainting afore, and me not a fainting sort, the smell was so terrible. If that be the kind of thing Miss Caroline's cook do give her, 'tis time I was back in my old place, that it be."Eves laughed as he handed the list back to Templeton."There are a dozen more things," he said; "if they're all as good, old man, Aunt Caroline will get a shock when she's heckled.""Bless 'ee, sir, and who'll be so bold?" said Mrs. Trenchard. "Folks 'll listen, ay sure, as meek as lambs; but buy them things—never in the world.""Well, Bob, you must take the list to Noakes. You must do something for your tenner. Tell you what: I'll go to Weymouth for the chemicals and things. By the time I'm back you'll have seen Noakes and got the bottles and other things ready. Noakes wouldn't serve me, I'm sure."So it was arranged. Eves hurried through his breakfast and just caught the carrier's cart that conveyed passengers to the junction. Templeton finished leisurely, and then, not much liking his job, walked down to the village to interview Noakes. As he came to the shop door he heard Noakes addressing a customer."No, I tell 'ee, you can't have no sugar without you buy tea and bacon.""But 'twas only the day afore yesterday I bought my quarter of tea, sir," said a woman's voice, plaintively; "and I must have sugar to stew my plums for the children's dinner.""Bain't no good you standing there whining about yer children. No sugar without t'other things; that's my last word to 'ee.""Excuse me," said Templeton, entering the shop. "Is there a new order from the Food Controller? If I'm not mistaken, there have been several prosecutions lately of——""Now look 'ee here," cried Noakes, angrily, "I bain't a-going to stand no more nonsense from you. Who be you, I'd like to know, coming and ordering me about in my own shop?""Far from it, Mr. Noakes. I only wished to give you a hint that your customer is entitled to buy sugar without any conditions, and it's silly to put yourself in the wrong."Noakes glowered and blustered, but previous experience of Templeton's determination had taught him a lesson, and ultimately he served the woman with a half-pound of sugar."I want half a dozen of those toy balloons," said Templeton."They bain't for sale," growled Noakes."Indeed! You hang them up as ornaments, I suppose. Perhaps you'll sell me some if I buy some sugar, say.""Get out of my shop," cried Noakes, furiously. "I tell 'ee I won't serve 'ee, and I won't have you imperent young fellers in my shop at all, so now you know it."Templeton shrugged his shoulders. Taking his aunt's letter from his pocket, he opened it, and said:"There must be a mistake. My aunt says that the principal tradesman is a very civil and obliging person. You know her—Miss Caroline Templeton. She is coming down in a few days to lecture on food economy, and wants you to lay in a stock of various things of which I have a list. But perhaps she is referring to somebody else, and it's no good bothering you."At the mention of Miss Templeton's name an uneasy look settled upon Noakes's face. He watched Templeton replace the letter in his pocket, then said hesitatingly, in a milder tone:"When be the lady coming, sir?""In ten days or so, and as the letter was written some days ago, it may be under a week from now."The look of uneasiness gave way to a smile. Noakes turned his back, and Templeton, resolving to have nothing more to do with the man, left the shop.IIThinking it probable that he might get some balloons at the nearest village about five miles away, Templeton set off to walk there. Eves would not be back till the afternoon; there was plenty of time. As he left the shop he met the man Smail, who had been in Noakes's company on the day of the experiment with the glider. The man leered at him and passed on.When Templeton, unsuccessful in his quest, returned to the farm at midday, he found Mrs. Trenchard in a state of great agitation."Oh, Mr. Templeton," she cried, bursting into tears, "to think I've lived to see this day!""Why, what's the matter, Mrs. Trenchard?" he asked."He's there, sir," she nodded towards her husband's little den, "and 'tis ruin to us, and we'll have to go to work'us, and my poor Joe——""Come, Mrs. Trenchard, don't be upset. Just tell me all about it. Nothing has happened to Mr. Trenchard, I hope?""Only a broken heart, sir. Ah! if he'd only telled me afore! We've had bad times, as you know, sir; 'twas worse than I knew, and my poor man kep' it all to himself, so's not to worrit me. He went and borrowed money of Mr. Noakes, sir, to tide him over harvest. I don't know the rights of it; 'tis too much for my poor head; but by what I can make of it Trenchard signed a paper to say as if he didn't pay back the money by a certain time the farm 'ud belong to Mr. Noakes, and a week afore the time Mr. Noakes could put a man in to see as we didn't rob him. And he's in now, sir, in there—'tis Ted Smail, a rascal of a man as knocks his poor wife about. And what I'll do, Them above only knows.""Can't Mr. Trenchard turn him out?" asked Templeton."'Tis the law, sir; Trenchard owned it all, poor man, and axed my pardon, he did, for bringing it on me. Ah! if he'd only telled me afore! A week's such a little time to get all that money. When he telled me, wi' tears in his eyes, I said, 'Now just you run up along to Lunnon and see your brother, as keeps a public-house and is rolling in money. He'll help 'ee, and I'll work myself to skin and bone to pay him back.' And he'd just time to catch the train at the junction, and if his brother be hard, as some be, there's nothing but the work'us for us.""Cheer up, Mrs. Trenchard. Let's hope for the best. I'll talk it over with Eves when he gets back, and we'll see what can be done.""Thank 'ee kindly, sir, but don't 'ee go against the law. The law be a terrible creature."In the afternoon Eves returned with his purchases."There you are, old man," he cried, "acid, stoppers, and tubing. You've got the balloons?""No. I say, Tom, this experiment's off for the time; things here are in a deuce of a mess."He gave an outline of the domestic troubles."Whew!" Eves whistled. "So that's old Noakes's game. That throws a flood of light on the old villain's doings. But we'll dish him yet. The first thing is to get this fellow Smail out of the place. That will make the old woman feel a little easier.""I don't see how we can do that. Trenchard signed the deed or whatever it's called, and you may be sure that Noakes kept on the right side of the law.""Well, let's go and see."They opened the door of the farmer's little room, and beheld Smail lying on his back on the sofa placidly smoking a very rank tobacco. On a chair was a basket of provisions and several bottles of beer."I say, my man," said Eves, "your boots are rather dirty, you know."Smail closed one eye and said nothing."Mrs. Trenchard doesn't like it, you know," Eves went on. "Don't you think you'd better go?"The man was still silent. Eves mutely consulted Templeton. Smail was a big, thick-set fellow; a physical struggle with him might end in disaster."Look here, how much do you want to go?" asked Eves. ("I've got some change," he whispered to Templeton.)Then the man spoke. Winking and waving his pipe, he declared, hoarsely:"Here I be, and here I bide.""We'll give you ten shillings," said Eves."Here I be, and here I bide.""Oh, all right, bide away," said Eves, taking Templeton by the arm. "Rotten tobacco, ain't it, Bob?"They returned to the other room and sat down."We can't starve him out," said Eves. "The beggar's got grub enough for a week.""If we could only entice him out it would be all right," said Templeton, "because I believe I've read somewhere that a bailiff or whatever you call him can't legally force his way into a house.""Well, only beer would entice that sort of bounder, and he's got plenty of that. He's a big hulk, but wemightmanage to chuck him out.""Dangerous that. Even if we succeeded, we might find ourselves in court again."Eves stuck out his legs and pondered. Suddenly he sat up straight."By Jove, I've got it!" he cried. "We'll stink him out.""How do you mean? It would have to be a powerful stink to upset a fellow who can smoke that tobacco.""Of course; and I haven't wasted my time in the lab, old man. I never took any interest in chemistry till I learnt how to make stinks. What about H2S? The very thing. Splendid! We've got the acid; all we want is—by Jove! where can we get some iron pyrites? That means another trip to Weymouth.""And you probably won't get it there.""Hang it all; can't we make it some other way?""Wait a bit. Don't you remember old Peters making it once by boiling sulphur with tallow? And he told us you get a more steady flow of gas that way. We've probably got all we want on the premises. But how are you going to get it into the room?""We'll have to find a way. Let's go and investigate."Inquiry of Mrs. Trenchard elicited the information that her store cupboard ran along the whole length of the room in which Smail had made himself at home. The wall between them was rather thick, but it would certainly not be impossible to pierce a hole in it."Splendid!" said Eves. "We can make the gas in the store cupboard, and pass it into the room through one of our tubes. Of course, we'll have to lock the man in.""The gas won't drive him out of the window," said Templeton. "In fact, if he keeps that open the smell will never be strong enough.""You may be sure the window won't be open. A fellow of that sort revels in fug. No doubt he'll take an afternoon nap to-morrow. That'll be our time. He'll wake up choking, and if I know my man he'll make a dash for the window and tumble out into the open—by the way, I suppose the gas won't actually poison him?""No; the worst effect, I believe, is sickness and dizziness. We had better start boring our hole to-night, when he's asleep. If we're careful he won't hear us.""We must get Mother Trenchard to take out her stores. Shall we tell her why?""Better not. I'll just say we want to try an experiment."Mrs. Trenchard somewhat reluctantly agreed to remove her stores for a short time. From her they obtained a quantity of tallow and a few sticks of brimstone, and in the privacy of their bedroom they broke up and pulverised one of the sticks, and boiled a little of the sulphur powder with tallow in a tin."Ripping stink," said Eves, putting his head out of the window. "It's going to work A1. We'll pound up the rest of the brimstone, and then wait for night. This is the stuff to give friend Smail. It will bring him to his senses right enough.""More likely it'll take his senses away from him to begin with," answered his fellow-conspirator. "But it won't do him any real harm. Phew, what an aroma!"After dark, when loud snores from the room proclaimed that its occupant was asleep, they bored a couple of holes in the partition wall with a brace and bit obtained from Constable Haylock, who was something of a carpenter."I'll lend 'em to 'ee with pleasure, sir," he said when Eves requested the loan, "purvided 'tis for a legal objeck. As a servant of the nation, 'tud be my ruin if so be you was committing a felony.""That's all right, constable," replied Eves. "We're only going to bore a couple of holes for Mrs. Trenchard."After an hour's careful work there were two small holes in the wall, about six niches apart and a few inches above the floor, just under the sofa. Satisfied that all was now ready for the morrow's experiment, the lads went to bed.Next afternoon Templeton assured himself, by a peep from the outside through the closed window, that Smail had settled himself on the sofa to sleep over his heavy midday meal. Eves then quietly opened the door, abstracted the key, and locked the door from the outside. Their simple apparatus was already fitted up in the store cupboard—an old saucepan over a spirit lamp, with two holes in the lid through which they had passed two lengths of glass tubing, the other ends of which projected slightly into the room. Their next move was to lock all the house doors, except one leading to the garden at the back. By this time they had found it necessary to tell Mrs. Trenchard what they were about, and she was rather timorously awaiting results."Whatever you do, Mrs. Trenchard, don't open the door to the fellow after we get him out," said Eves, impressively. "Templeton says he can't legally force his way in, so keep the doors shut and leave the rest to us."Templeton lit the spirit lamp and closed the store-room door. In a few minutes the nauseating fumes of sulphuretted hydrogen stole through the cracks into the passage."Gracious goodness, we'll all be poisoned!" cried Mrs. Trenchard."No, it's quite harmless, I assure you, though rather horrid," said Eves. "Look here, Bob, you paste some strips of paper over the cracks while I go outside and see how things are getting on."He went out of the back door, hastened round to the front, and peeped in at the window. Smail was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, one hand dangling over the side of the sofa. The gas being colourless, Eves had no evidence that the experiment was working until he put his nose to the lower sill and got a faint whiff of the fetid odour. Minute after minute passed, and there was no sign that the gas was having any effect on the sleeper. At last, however, he stirred, sniffed, and looked round the room. Then he got up, looked under the table, under the sofa, examined his basket of provisions, turned up on end two empty beer bottles. Seized with a fit of coughing, he made for the door, tugged at the handle, shouted, then dashed to the window, pulled back the catch, tumbled out, and ran towards the front entrance.Eves had slipped out of sight, but the moment the man's back was turned he ran to the window, sprang on to the sill, and braving the fumes, prepared to dispute any attempt to re-enter by the same way.Meanwhile Smail was thundering at the front door, mingling curses with cries to be let in. At this signal that the experiment had succeeded, Templeton threw open the door of the store cupboard, extinguished the lamp, and asked Mrs. Trenchard to open all the inner doors and the upper windows, so as to clear the air.Finding the front door closed to him, Smail returned to the window. Eves had now entered the room and stood at the window, holding a poker. Smail approached him, scowling and squaring his fists."Just you come out o' that, you young viper," he cried. "You've a-tried to pison me, and I'll have the law of 'ee. That there room's my room for now; 'tis the law; so get out.""Here I be, and here I bide," said Eves, brandishing the poker. "Don't come too near, Mr. Smail. You know so much about the law that you'll be aware you're committing a felony if you try to force your way in. You don't want to go to quod again, Mr. Smail, I'm sure. Besides, I don't think your head's hard enough to stand a whack from this poker."
III
Templeton had not settled which among his many ideas to work at, when accident launched his imagination upon a new flight.
One day the village was stirred to unusual excitement. Two items of local news, following quickly one upon the other, gave the folk so much matter for gossip that the amount of work they did was reduced fifty per cent. The first was that Nahum Noakes's final appeal had failed; the second, that young Wilfred Banks, the son of Squire Banks, one of the local magnates, had been seriously injured by the fall of an aeroplane.
Mrs. Trenchard, having been "there and back," was full of the story.
"Ay me, to think of a nice pleasant young gentleman like Mr. Wilfred lying at death's door through one o' they dratted airyplanes! That venturesome he always was, as a little small chiel. 'Tis against Nature to try to fly like the birds, that's what I say, and what can you expect? The world do be turning topsy-turvy, and all through they Germans."
That night, just as Eves had turned over to sleep, he was roused by a call from Templeton in his companion bed.
"What is it?" he murmured, drowsily.
"I've got an idea," was the reply.
"Well, sleep on it, old man."
"You know very well that I can't get a wink till I see daylight."
"Then you've got about five hours. Good night!"
"Of course I meant a light on the problem; you're so literal. You see, the evolution of a perfectly stable machine——"
Eves interrupted with a groan.
"I suppose I must be a martyr," he said, "but I wish you'd arrange for your ideas to come in the morning. Fire away! I'll keep awake if I can, but cut it short."
"You're a good sort, Tom. Really I'd like to know what you think of it. You see, an aeroplane ought to balance itself automatically, and I've got an idea for automatically adjusting the surfaces of the planes so that the machine will instantly adapt itself to gusts of wind, side-slips, and so on."
"Jolly good idea! Good night."
"Hold hard. You haven't heard the idea yet. My arrangement would be electric. Beyond the extremities of the frames I'd have a light framework on which an extension of the plane could be pushed out by a steel rod actuated by a small electric motor."
"I can go to sleep at once, then, because that won't work. It means more weight."
"No, no; we'll argue it out. Weight's becoming less and less important every day. Look at the weight of bombs an aeroplane can now lift. Anyhow, the point is that the motor would be controlled by the movement of the plane. A sphere moving in a horizontal channel would be affected by the slightest inclination of the plane. I'd arrange by a series of electrical contacts——"
"How?"
"I haven't worked out all the details yet; how could I? But the effect would be that the farther the sphere moved the farther the rod would push out the extension of the plane on the side required. And when the aeroplane had righted itself, the sphere would return to neutral."
"My sleepy brain is fairly dazed with your rods and spheres and the rest. Hang all that! The question is, would the extension idea work? Would the lengthening of the planes meet the case?"
"Of course it would. It's easily proved. All you want is a glider."
"Well, old man, the idea's ripping, and being a reasonable chap, you'll agree that you've got to go one step at a time. I don't say you're wrong, but treat me as a bit of a sceptic, who wants everything proved."
"Very well; I'm not unreasonable. We'll set to work and make a glider; then you'll see."
"Righto! Feel more easy now? Hope you won't wake in the night."
Templeton was just dozing off when from Eves there came:
"I say, Bob."
"What?"
"You'll have to cut into your tenner at last. Bye-bye!"
During the next week they did very little "work on the land." Farmer Trenchard, impressed as usual by Templeton's earnestness, allowed them as much leave as they wanted, and they devoted themselves during the hours of daylight to the manufacture of a glider. A journey to the nearest town and the cashing of the £10 note furnished them with the wood and the textile fabric they needed, and Templeton had sufficient skill in carpentry to fashion two wings, light enough for his purpose, yet strong enough to sustain him. His funds would not run to an electric motor, but he thought that, for his first experiments, the lengthening rod might be actuated by stout cords running over pulleys.
The contrivance was finished after a week's hard work. Tested in the farmyard, the lengthening apparatus worked smoothly; it only remained to try it in the air. Templeton had already marked a suitable spot for the trial—a sloping field some little distance from the farm, too steep for cultivation, and occupied usually by cattle fattening for Coggins, the butcher. It was enclosed by a thick hedge except at the gate, and that was kept locked, and blocked with brushwood.
"I think perhaps we had better ask Coggins's leave to use his field," suggested Templeton.
"Don't do anything of the sort," replied Eves. "We don't want a crowd of yokels looking on. If the thing goes all right, you can invite the village to an exhibition."
The morning chosen for the trial was warm and still. No danger from gusts of wind was to be anticipated. Mounting the glider on two wheels from the old tricycle, patched up for the occasion, they wheeled it up to the field and managed with some difficulty to hoist it over the gate, after having cleared a way through the obstructing brushwood. At the far end a few cattle were peacefully grazing. The well-cropped hill was a smooth inclined plane of springy turf.
They carried the machine to the top.
"I bag first go," said Eves.
"No, I can't agree to that," said Templeton. "You see, though I'm pretty sure it will work all right, there's bound to be a certain risk, and as it's my idea I ought to test it."
"That's no reason at all. Cooks never eat their own cake. Besides, if there is an accident, much better it should happen to me than you.I'mnot an inventor."
"I still maintain——"
"Oh, don't let's waste time. Let's toss for it. Heads me, tails you. A use for my half-penny at last. Here goes."
He spun the coin.
"Heads! There you are. Now fasten the straps on my shoulders, and give me a gentle shove off."
The glider was not fastened to the wheels, Templeton's theory being that, having been started on them at the top of the hill, it would almost at once gain "lift" from the air. So it proved. After a few yards it rose slightly; a little farther on it was quite clear of the ground, and Eves, with legs bent and arms stretched out on the wings, enjoyed for a few brief seconds the exhilaration of aerial flight. Then, however, it began to tilt. Mindful of Templeton's careful instructions and the preliminary test in the farmyard, Eves tugged at the appointed rope, which should have thrown out an extension of the wing, and, according to Templeton's theory, have restored the balance. Unhappily the mechanism that had worked so smoothly before now proved treacherous. The machine swerved to the left, and crashed into a bramble-bush in the hedge at the foot of the hill.
Templeton rushed down in great agitation, sprang into the hedge regardless of scratches, unloosed the straps, and hauled Eves out.
"I say, you're not hurt, old man?" he asked, anxiously.
"I'm pretty well pricked, confound the thing!" said Eves. "The wretched cord jammed."
"But the theory's all right."
"Hang the theory! Look here, old man— Hullo, here's old Noakes."
Noakes, accompanied by a thick-set countryman in corduroys and leggings, had come over the crest of the hill just as the accident occurred, and run down almost on Templeton's heels.
"I've cotched 'ee," he cried, panting. "You're my witness, Ted Smail. Cotched in the act, the mischeevious young vipers. I'll have the law of un."
[image]"'I'VE COTCHED 'EE,' HE CRIED."
[image]
[image]
"'I'VE COTCHED 'EE,' HE CRIED."
"My dear sir, I don't think it has anything to do with you," said Templeton. "My friend, as you see——"
"Your friend, and you too, be a-trespassing on my field and a-ruining my property, and the law'll have something to say about that."
"Ruined a bramble-bush!" said Templeton.
"And the bush has ruined my clothes," Eves added.
"That there's my hedge, and you've been and knocked a hole in it, and——"
At this moment his tirade was suddenly interrupted by a bellow behind him. A bull, excited by the vagaries of the glider, had trotted up from the far end of the field to investigate, and further roused, probably, by Noakes's loud tones and waving arms, threw down its head and charged. The men scattered. Eves and Templeton made for the gate and vaulted over. Noakes ran one way, his friend another. The bull plunged straight at the glider, sticking in the hedge, and smashed it to splinters. Then it dashed after Noakes, who, seeing no other outlet, flung himself into the ditch below the hedge and scrambled through the tangled lower branches only just in time to escape the animal's horns.
"We must offer to pay Noakes for the damage," said Templeton.
"Rot! We haven't done tuppence-ha'-penny worth; and how do we know it's his field?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't say so if it wasn't, and there's certainly a hole in the hedge. I'll just see what he says."
Noakes, hatless, dishevelled, and scratched, was coming towards them.
"I'm willing to pay any reasonable sum for damages, Mr. Noakes," said Templeton.
"Are ye?" replied the man with a grin. "I be main glad to hear it. You shall have the bill, don't 'ee make no mistake about that. But I won't take no money 'cept by judge and jury."
He passed on, and stood at the gate until his friend should find it convenient to join him.
Two days later Constable Haylock came to the farm, and, with an apologetic air, handed to Eves and Templeton each a blue document, summoning them to appear at the justice court to answer a plaint of trespass and damage on the part of Philemon Noakes.
"This is serious," said Templeton. "You see, we've no defence. We did break his hedge and disturb his tenant's cattle, as he says. I wonder what the penalty is?"
"A fine of £5, old man, I expect," said Eves, cheerfully. "Don't you worry; I did the damage, and I can't pay."
"I'm sureIcan't. That glider cost £7 16*s.* 4*d*. I haven't half £5."
"Well, they'll give us seven days C.B., or whatever they call it, and you'll have to write to Aunt Caroline to bail us out. Jolly good idea! We'll be able to give her tips in food economy after a week of prison fare."
"It's no joking matter. She'll be upset; no Templeton of our family has ever been in prison."
"You don't say so! You'll make a record, then. Splendid!"
On the appointed day they appeared before the justice.
"'Tis Squire Banks's day," whispered Haylock as they passed him at the door. "He baint such a hanging judge, so to speak it, as Sir Timothy."
Noakes gave his evidence, Smail corroborated it, and Squire Banks asked the culprits what they had to say in their defence.
"It was like this, sir," began Eves, before Templeton could start; "my friend Templeton devotes a lot of time to trying experiments—working out ideas for useful inventions. When he heard of that accident to a flying man the other day"—the old gentleman looked interested—"he kept me awake at night talking over an idea for making an aeroplane automatically safe. I confess I was sceptical, and it's my fault all this happened, because it was to prove his theory to me that he made a glider; it cost him over £7, sir; and we couldn't find a better place to try it on than that hilly field. I'm afraid I was clumsy; at any rate, the thing came to grief——"
"But the principle of it is quite sound," Templeton put in.
"But, of course, you're not concerned with principles here, sir, but only with law," Eves went on. "We didn't know the field belonged to Mr. Noakes, or I assure you we wouldn't have touched it with a pole, and as to damage, my friend offered to pay any reasonable sum."
"But didn't I understand that you caused the damage?" the squire interposed, his eyes twinkling. "That being the case, ought not the offer to pay have come from you?"
"I'm afraid it ought, sir; but—well, I've only got four and elevenpence halfpenny."
There were smiles in the court at this ingenuous confession.
"Well, Mr. Templeton offered to pay," the squire went on. "What then?"
"Mr. Noakes wouldn't hear of it, sir," Eves answered.
"Is that so, Noakes?"
Noakes had to confess that it was.
"Come, now, Noakes, brambles grow very fast, and any hedger will close the gap for eightpence. It's a trumpery matter. You young fellows can pay half-a-crown between you for the damage, and Noakes must pay his own costs; it's an unreasonable action. Call the next case."
"Jolly old trump!" said Eves as they went out. "And I'm jolly glad the old boy's son is getting better."
On reaching the farm, Templeton found awaiting him a letter from his aunt, written in reply to one he had sent her more than a week before. She explained the long delay by the fact that the letter had pursued her through three counties. "I am delighted to hear," she wrote, "that you have not yet spentanyof the money I sent you. It shows greatstrength of character. You will be pleased to hear that my lectures are agreat success. I expect to reach Polstead in about ten days, and I shall be so glad if you will do a little thing to prepare my way. My lectures arethoroughly practical; it is useless to talk about economical foods if the dear people cannot procure them. I want you to see Mr. Philemon Noakes for me; he is theprincipal tradesmanin the village; and ask him if he willvery kindlylay in a stock of certaincheaparticles of which I will send you a list. A personal interview is so much more satisfactory than a formal letter, and you will find Mr. Noakes avery civil and obliging person."
"My hat!" cried Eves, laughing. "What a rag! I'll come with you, old man."
Templeton looked worried.
A GAS ATTACK
I
Mr. Noakes made no further attempt to interfere with the irrigation of Farmer Trenchard's fields. The two lads repaired the dam, gave the parched ground a thorough soaking for two days and nights, then demolished the simple structure and allowed the stream to pursue its usual course.
Templeton, meanwhile, had been anxiously weighing the claims of the other ideas that jostled in his brain. He wanted to perfect his automatic hair-cutter; to experiment with what he called, in advance, a "levitator"—a contrivance for enabling an aeroplane to rise more rapidly; to test his notion of a tar entanglement, and various other sound schemes. Unfortunately the incomplete hair-cutter had been confiscated by his head master, and it would take weeks to construct a new one. The levitator was out of the question at present, for it would cost a good deal more than the two pounds odd which remained out of his aunt's gift. Several ideas were unworkable for the same reason, and he had almost resolved on the tar entanglement when, with that suddenness to which inventors are accustomed, a quite new idea shot into his mind.
He had been reading, in a war correspondent's dispatch, about the star shells and Verey lights which were used at night to throw a fitful illumination upon the hostile lines. Eves noticed that as he cleaned his teeth before going to bed he made frequent pauses, holding the tooth-brush motionless for some moments at a time.
"What's up, old man?" asked Eves, who was already in bed. "Got toothache?"
"No; I was thinking," replied Templeton, rubbing again. "You see——"
"But I can't hear through the bristles. Hurry up, or I shall be asleep."
Templeton finished his toilet, blew out the light, and got into bed, sitting up and clasping his knees.
"Those flash-lights, you know—they don't last long enough. What our fellows want is some continuous illumination."
"What about the moon?"
"You know perfectly well the moon doesn't shine for half the month."
"I thought perhaps you'd invented an artificial moon. But expound, old bird."
"Well, you know the prevailing wind in winter is from the west. Why shouldn't our men start relays of light balloons——"
"Balloons always are light."
"I mean light-giving balloons. They'd float over the German lines and illuminate their whole positions with a steady continuous light."
"The Huns would shoot 'em down."
"Not easily, for they'd be dark."
"Light and dark at the same time! Go on, Bobby; I'm sure you can prove black's white."
"If you wouldn't interrupt, you'd see. The illuminant would be attached to the balloon by a long cord, and there'd be a shade like a lampshade over it, so that the balloon itself would be in darkness. It's easy enough to try."
"How?"
"All you want is a dozen toy balloons, a few cubic feet of hydrogen, a slow match, and a little magnesium wire. There you have it on a small scale. Fill the balloons with hydrogen, tie 'em together, fasten a slow match and a bit of wire to each, light the match, and send the whole caboodle up."
"But magnesium wire only burns for a second or two."
"You really are an ass, Tom. We'd only use magnesium wire for our experiment; there are heaps of things that could be used with big balloons at the front."
"You mean to try it, then?"
"Of course. Old Noakes has some toy balloons."
"But what about the hydrogen? It doesn't smell, does it?"
"No. Why?"
"Only that I forget all my chemistry except the stinks. How do you make it?"
"By the action of an acid on a metal. Don't you remember Zn + H2SO4 = ZnSO4 + H2? Iron will do as well."
"That's easy enough, then. But you'll want retorts, wash bottles, pneumatic troughs, and goodness knows what else. Bang goes the rest of your cash, Bob."
"Nonsense! Mother Trenchard has some old pickle bottles, and we're not out to make a specially pure gas. All we'll have to buy will be a little acid, a few feet of glass tubing, and a rubber cork or two. Four or five shillings will buy the lot. We shall have to go to Weymouth for them."
"Righto! That's a day off to-morrow."
The morning post brought a letter from Aunt Caroline enclosing a list of foods which she wished Mr. Noakes to stock. Templeton read it solemnly, and handed it to Eves.
"I say, Mrs. Trenchard, what do you think of this?" cried Eves. "Things Bob's aunt is going to lecture about, you know. Haricot beans——"
"They want a deal of cooking, Mr. Eves," said Mrs. Trenchard. "You must soak 'em overnight, and boil 'em hours and hours. I have my doubts whether the village folk can spare the time."
"Well, here's dried peas."
"Do 'ee think the women 'll use 'em dried when the shucks are full of green? What can Miss Caroline be thinking of?"
"Tinned eggs, then."
"Lawk-a-mussy, I was silly enough to buy one o' they tins once, and when I opened it—there now, never in my life did I come so near fainting afore, and me not a fainting sort, the smell was so terrible. If that be the kind of thing Miss Caroline's cook do give her, 'tis time I was back in my old place, that it be."
Eves laughed as he handed the list back to Templeton.
"There are a dozen more things," he said; "if they're all as good, old man, Aunt Caroline will get a shock when she's heckled."
"Bless 'ee, sir, and who'll be so bold?" said Mrs. Trenchard. "Folks 'll listen, ay sure, as meek as lambs; but buy them things—never in the world."
"Well, Bob, you must take the list to Noakes. You must do something for your tenner. Tell you what: I'll go to Weymouth for the chemicals and things. By the time I'm back you'll have seen Noakes and got the bottles and other things ready. Noakes wouldn't serve me, I'm sure."
So it was arranged. Eves hurried through his breakfast and just caught the carrier's cart that conveyed passengers to the junction. Templeton finished leisurely, and then, not much liking his job, walked down to the village to interview Noakes. As he came to the shop door he heard Noakes addressing a customer.
"No, I tell 'ee, you can't have no sugar without you buy tea and bacon."
"But 'twas only the day afore yesterday I bought my quarter of tea, sir," said a woman's voice, plaintively; "and I must have sugar to stew my plums for the children's dinner."
"Bain't no good you standing there whining about yer children. No sugar without t'other things; that's my last word to 'ee."
"Excuse me," said Templeton, entering the shop. "Is there a new order from the Food Controller? If I'm not mistaken, there have been several prosecutions lately of——"
"Now look 'ee here," cried Noakes, angrily, "I bain't a-going to stand no more nonsense from you. Who be you, I'd like to know, coming and ordering me about in my own shop?"
"Far from it, Mr. Noakes. I only wished to give you a hint that your customer is entitled to buy sugar without any conditions, and it's silly to put yourself in the wrong."
Noakes glowered and blustered, but previous experience of Templeton's determination had taught him a lesson, and ultimately he served the woman with a half-pound of sugar.
"I want half a dozen of those toy balloons," said Templeton.
"They bain't for sale," growled Noakes.
"Indeed! You hang them up as ornaments, I suppose. Perhaps you'll sell me some if I buy some sugar, say."
"Get out of my shop," cried Noakes, furiously. "I tell 'ee I won't serve 'ee, and I won't have you imperent young fellers in my shop at all, so now you know it."
Templeton shrugged his shoulders. Taking his aunt's letter from his pocket, he opened it, and said:
"There must be a mistake. My aunt says that the principal tradesman is a very civil and obliging person. You know her—Miss Caroline Templeton. She is coming down in a few days to lecture on food economy, and wants you to lay in a stock of various things of which I have a list. But perhaps she is referring to somebody else, and it's no good bothering you."
At the mention of Miss Templeton's name an uneasy look settled upon Noakes's face. He watched Templeton replace the letter in his pocket, then said hesitatingly, in a milder tone:
"When be the lady coming, sir?"
"In ten days or so, and as the letter was written some days ago, it may be under a week from now."
The look of uneasiness gave way to a smile. Noakes turned his back, and Templeton, resolving to have nothing more to do with the man, left the shop.
II
Thinking it probable that he might get some balloons at the nearest village about five miles away, Templeton set off to walk there. Eves would not be back till the afternoon; there was plenty of time. As he left the shop he met the man Smail, who had been in Noakes's company on the day of the experiment with the glider. The man leered at him and passed on.
When Templeton, unsuccessful in his quest, returned to the farm at midday, he found Mrs. Trenchard in a state of great agitation.
"Oh, Mr. Templeton," she cried, bursting into tears, "to think I've lived to see this day!"
"Why, what's the matter, Mrs. Trenchard?" he asked.
"He's there, sir," she nodded towards her husband's little den, "and 'tis ruin to us, and we'll have to go to work'us, and my poor Joe——"
"Come, Mrs. Trenchard, don't be upset. Just tell me all about it. Nothing has happened to Mr. Trenchard, I hope?"
"Only a broken heart, sir. Ah! if he'd only telled me afore! We've had bad times, as you know, sir; 'twas worse than I knew, and my poor man kep' it all to himself, so's not to worrit me. He went and borrowed money of Mr. Noakes, sir, to tide him over harvest. I don't know the rights of it; 'tis too much for my poor head; but by what I can make of it Trenchard signed a paper to say as if he didn't pay back the money by a certain time the farm 'ud belong to Mr. Noakes, and a week afore the time Mr. Noakes could put a man in to see as we didn't rob him. And he's in now, sir, in there—'tis Ted Smail, a rascal of a man as knocks his poor wife about. And what I'll do, Them above only knows."
"Can't Mr. Trenchard turn him out?" asked Templeton.
"'Tis the law, sir; Trenchard owned it all, poor man, and axed my pardon, he did, for bringing it on me. Ah! if he'd only telled me afore! A week's such a little time to get all that money. When he telled me, wi' tears in his eyes, I said, 'Now just you run up along to Lunnon and see your brother, as keeps a public-house and is rolling in money. He'll help 'ee, and I'll work myself to skin and bone to pay him back.' And he'd just time to catch the train at the junction, and if his brother be hard, as some be, there's nothing but the work'us for us."
"Cheer up, Mrs. Trenchard. Let's hope for the best. I'll talk it over with Eves when he gets back, and we'll see what can be done."
"Thank 'ee kindly, sir, but don't 'ee go against the law. The law be a terrible creature."
In the afternoon Eves returned with his purchases.
"There you are, old man," he cried, "acid, stoppers, and tubing. You've got the balloons?"
"No. I say, Tom, this experiment's off for the time; things here are in a deuce of a mess."
He gave an outline of the domestic troubles.
"Whew!" Eves whistled. "So that's old Noakes's game. That throws a flood of light on the old villain's doings. But we'll dish him yet. The first thing is to get this fellow Smail out of the place. That will make the old woman feel a little easier."
"I don't see how we can do that. Trenchard signed the deed or whatever it's called, and you may be sure that Noakes kept on the right side of the law."
"Well, let's go and see."
They opened the door of the farmer's little room, and beheld Smail lying on his back on the sofa placidly smoking a very rank tobacco. On a chair was a basket of provisions and several bottles of beer.
"I say, my man," said Eves, "your boots are rather dirty, you know."
Smail closed one eye and said nothing.
"Mrs. Trenchard doesn't like it, you know," Eves went on. "Don't you think you'd better go?"
The man was still silent. Eves mutely consulted Templeton. Smail was a big, thick-set fellow; a physical struggle with him might end in disaster.
"Look here, how much do you want to go?" asked Eves. ("I've got some change," he whispered to Templeton.)
Then the man spoke. Winking and waving his pipe, he declared, hoarsely:
"Here I be, and here I bide."
"We'll give you ten shillings," said Eves.
"Here I be, and here I bide."
"Oh, all right, bide away," said Eves, taking Templeton by the arm. "Rotten tobacco, ain't it, Bob?"
They returned to the other room and sat down.
"We can't starve him out," said Eves. "The beggar's got grub enough for a week."
"If we could only entice him out it would be all right," said Templeton, "because I believe I've read somewhere that a bailiff or whatever you call him can't legally force his way into a house."
"Well, only beer would entice that sort of bounder, and he's got plenty of that. He's a big hulk, but wemightmanage to chuck him out."
"Dangerous that. Even if we succeeded, we might find ourselves in court again."
Eves stuck out his legs and pondered. Suddenly he sat up straight.
"By Jove, I've got it!" he cried. "We'll stink him out."
"How do you mean? It would have to be a powerful stink to upset a fellow who can smoke that tobacco."
"Of course; and I haven't wasted my time in the lab, old man. I never took any interest in chemistry till I learnt how to make stinks. What about H2S? The very thing. Splendid! We've got the acid; all we want is—by Jove! where can we get some iron pyrites? That means another trip to Weymouth."
"And you probably won't get it there."
"Hang it all; can't we make it some other way?"
"Wait a bit. Don't you remember old Peters making it once by boiling sulphur with tallow? And he told us you get a more steady flow of gas that way. We've probably got all we want on the premises. But how are you going to get it into the room?"
"We'll have to find a way. Let's go and investigate."
Inquiry of Mrs. Trenchard elicited the information that her store cupboard ran along the whole length of the room in which Smail had made himself at home. The wall between them was rather thick, but it would certainly not be impossible to pierce a hole in it.
"Splendid!" said Eves. "We can make the gas in the store cupboard, and pass it into the room through one of our tubes. Of course, we'll have to lock the man in."
"The gas won't drive him out of the window," said Templeton. "In fact, if he keeps that open the smell will never be strong enough."
"You may be sure the window won't be open. A fellow of that sort revels in fug. No doubt he'll take an afternoon nap to-morrow. That'll be our time. He'll wake up choking, and if I know my man he'll make a dash for the window and tumble out into the open—by the way, I suppose the gas won't actually poison him?"
"No; the worst effect, I believe, is sickness and dizziness. We had better start boring our hole to-night, when he's asleep. If we're careful he won't hear us."
"We must get Mother Trenchard to take out her stores. Shall we tell her why?"
"Better not. I'll just say we want to try an experiment."
Mrs. Trenchard somewhat reluctantly agreed to remove her stores for a short time. From her they obtained a quantity of tallow and a few sticks of brimstone, and in the privacy of their bedroom they broke up and pulverised one of the sticks, and boiled a little of the sulphur powder with tallow in a tin.
"Ripping stink," said Eves, putting his head out of the window. "It's going to work A1. We'll pound up the rest of the brimstone, and then wait for night. This is the stuff to give friend Smail. It will bring him to his senses right enough."
"More likely it'll take his senses away from him to begin with," answered his fellow-conspirator. "But it won't do him any real harm. Phew, what an aroma!"
After dark, when loud snores from the room proclaimed that its occupant was asleep, they bored a couple of holes in the partition wall with a brace and bit obtained from Constable Haylock, who was something of a carpenter.
"I'll lend 'em to 'ee with pleasure, sir," he said when Eves requested the loan, "purvided 'tis for a legal objeck. As a servant of the nation, 'tud be my ruin if so be you was committing a felony."
"That's all right, constable," replied Eves. "We're only going to bore a couple of holes for Mrs. Trenchard."
After an hour's careful work there were two small holes in the wall, about six niches apart and a few inches above the floor, just under the sofa. Satisfied that all was now ready for the morrow's experiment, the lads went to bed.
Next afternoon Templeton assured himself, by a peep from the outside through the closed window, that Smail had settled himself on the sofa to sleep over his heavy midday meal. Eves then quietly opened the door, abstracted the key, and locked the door from the outside. Their simple apparatus was already fitted up in the store cupboard—an old saucepan over a spirit lamp, with two holes in the lid through which they had passed two lengths of glass tubing, the other ends of which projected slightly into the room. Their next move was to lock all the house doors, except one leading to the garden at the back. By this time they had found it necessary to tell Mrs. Trenchard what they were about, and she was rather timorously awaiting results.
"Whatever you do, Mrs. Trenchard, don't open the door to the fellow after we get him out," said Eves, impressively. "Templeton says he can't legally force his way in, so keep the doors shut and leave the rest to us."
Templeton lit the spirit lamp and closed the store-room door. In a few minutes the nauseating fumes of sulphuretted hydrogen stole through the cracks into the passage.
"Gracious goodness, we'll all be poisoned!" cried Mrs. Trenchard.
"No, it's quite harmless, I assure you, though rather horrid," said Eves. "Look here, Bob, you paste some strips of paper over the cracks while I go outside and see how things are getting on."
He went out of the back door, hastened round to the front, and peeped in at the window. Smail was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, one hand dangling over the side of the sofa. The gas being colourless, Eves had no evidence that the experiment was working until he put his nose to the lower sill and got a faint whiff of the fetid odour. Minute after minute passed, and there was no sign that the gas was having any effect on the sleeper. At last, however, he stirred, sniffed, and looked round the room. Then he got up, looked under the table, under the sofa, examined his basket of provisions, turned up on end two empty beer bottles. Seized with a fit of coughing, he made for the door, tugged at the handle, shouted, then dashed to the window, pulled back the catch, tumbled out, and ran towards the front entrance.
Eves had slipped out of sight, but the moment the man's back was turned he ran to the window, sprang on to the sill, and braving the fumes, prepared to dispute any attempt to re-enter by the same way.
Meanwhile Smail was thundering at the front door, mingling curses with cries to be let in. At this signal that the experiment had succeeded, Templeton threw open the door of the store cupboard, extinguished the lamp, and asked Mrs. Trenchard to open all the inner doors and the upper windows, so as to clear the air.
Finding the front door closed to him, Smail returned to the window. Eves had now entered the room and stood at the window, holding a poker. Smail approached him, scowling and squaring his fists.
"Just you come out o' that, you young viper," he cried. "You've a-tried to pison me, and I'll have the law of 'ee. That there room's my room for now; 'tis the law; so get out."
"Here I be, and here I bide," said Eves, brandishing the poker. "Don't come too near, Mr. Smail. You know so much about the law that you'll be aware you're committing a felony if you try to force your way in. You don't want to go to quod again, Mr. Smail, I'm sure. Besides, I don't think your head's hard enough to stand a whack from this poker."