CHAPTER XXIIFIRE AT SEA
“Well, Dave, they stole a march on us last night.”
“How is that, Hiram?” questioned the young aviator.
“Landed. Yes, sir, theAlbatrossmade a landing about midnight on the beach of some island—Bermuda or Bahama, or something like that. Last point of land this side of Europe, the professor says. Took on a fresh supply of water. Mr. King visited the town nearby and got some papers, and sent a message to the aero association.”
Hiram had just come from the cabin, preceding his comrade in waking up by a few minutes. When the two friends went to the cabin they found young Brackett waiting to take breakfast with them.
A few days had made a marked change in the new passenger of theAlbatross. Everybody was pleasant and encouraging to him. He had become greatly interested in the workings of theairship. Dave had suggested to him that, owing to the fact that his father was a foremost manufacturer in the aeroplane line, he had a splendid opportunity to begin business life in the same field.
TheAlbatrosshad started out on its real voyage in fine shape, weather conditions being perfect. So far, except for the adventure among the mountain men of North Carolina, not one adverse incident had marred the flight.
The three friends chatted and joked buoyantly while dispatching their appetizing meal. Young Brackett had picked up one of the newspapers brought to the airship from the island just after midnight. He was looking it over casually, when he uttered a quick cry as of startled amazement.
“It’s not true!” he almost shouted, and he brought his fist down upon the table to emphasize the remark with such force that the dishes rattled.
“What’s not true, Brackett?” inquired the young aviator, in some surprise.
“Listen!” called out the lad in considerable excitement, and then he read from the newspaper:
“Another red, white and blue float was picked up three hundred miles from land by the steamerRoyale. It proved to contain a dispatch with the readings: ‘Aug. 21, altitude one thousand feet,course due east, making splendid time. AirshipDictator: Signed, Roger Davidson, Perry Dawson, on board.’”
“That sounds like business,” exclaimed Hiram. “The twenty-first. That’s the day we started. They were forty-eight hours ahead of us.”
“Not true!” again declared young Brackett, sharply.
“You mean?” asked Dave, in wonder.
“Davidson and Dawson are not aboard of theDictator.”
“Oh, pshaw, now how can you say that,” challenged the impetuous Hiram, “when here is the clear evidence?”
“You seem to know something we don’t know,” remarked Dave, with a close glance at Brackett. “The public prints announced that Davidson and Dawson started with theDictatoron the trip across the Atlantic on the afternoon of the nineteenth.”
“They did,” nodded Brackett. “I saw them. But they came back.”
“What’s that?” cried Hiram.
“Yes, they did.”
“In theDictator?”
“Oh, no, and that’s the queer part of it. They may have lost their nerve—it looks that way. They may have hired someone else to take therisk of the trip. Anyhow, they got out of theDictatorafter leaving Senca, and came back there at midnight. I slept that night in the place where they had built theDictator. I saw them come, I saw them go away.”
“Brackett, you astonish me,” said Dave, bluntly. “Are you sure of what you say?”
“Perfectly,” declared the lad, with positiveness. “Davidson and Dawson came secretly to the old aerodrome. They had a big automobile, and loaded into it a long box. Both were disguised, and I recognized them only by their voices. I heard them speak of getting to the steamer. How to explain these dispatches, apparently dropped from theDictatorinto the ocean, I don’t know. I’ve only told you what I do know.”
“Mr. King must know of this,” said Dave, thoughtfully.
No plausible solution of the tangle was arrived at, however. Amid the sheer exhilaration and activity of their own superb flight, the crew of theAlbatrosssoon forgot the incident surrounding the rival airship with new mystery.
For two days and nights the giant airship made an even, steady run, true as a needle to a set course. There was a slight mist over the waters the next evening. So fair and promising was the weather, that Professor Leblance had deviatedfrom the route he had first laid out. He had made an aerial short cut. The result was that they were somewhat out of the regular path of ocean travelers.
It was always a pleasure for the boys to watch out nights for the steamers far beneath them. That night, Grimshaw, seated at one of the windows, remarked in his usual laconic way:
“Light ahoy!”
“Where away?” chirped the active Hiram, who was priding himself on becoming quite nautical.
“Just ahead, somewhat to the southeast.”
“I see it,” said the young aviator.
“So do I,” joined in Hiram. “Why, say,” he added, excitedly a minute or two later, “that’s no light. It’s a fire.”
As they progressed and the radiance became plainer, all hands decided that Hiram was right. Nearer and nearer they came to the growing light. Flames became visible, then the fire fringed the outlines of hull and rigging.
Dave ran to the pilot room and quickly advised Mr. King of the circumstance. Professor Leblance was summoned from the engine room.
“Slow down and focus the searchlight on the ship,” he ordered.
This was done. It was a vivid and exciting scene. The great fingers of radiance went groping all about the craft. No one seemed aboard. No one seemed struggling in the waves about the ship.
Fast to its stern, however, by a long cable and thus held in position, was a rude raft. The searchlight showed a man standing upon this and viewing the blazing ship. At his feet, covered over with a tarpaulin, there seemed to be another human form.
“We cannot leave those people to their fate,” said the Professor. “Mr. King, we will drop the floats and stop, while you and the boys take the emergency yawl and go after whoever may be aboard of that raft.”
TheAlbatrossrested its floats lightly upon the water and skimmed it slowly at an even height, like the royal bird after which it was named.
The handling of the yawl was of a piece with the operation of all the perfect utilities of the airship. The three boys took the oars and the airman acted as pilot.
Just as they got near to the raft they saw the man standing upright upon it, sever the cable holding it to the burning ship. The heat from the flames had evidently become too intense for him to bear. Then he posed in an attitude of suspense and eagerness, a wiry, keen-eyed little man. He had a long, oval metal box strapped across his shoulder, and was dripping wet.
“Good for you!” he hailed, as the airman grappled the raft with a boathook.
“Ship caught fire, did it?” remarked Mr. King.
“No, I set it.”
The yawl crew stared almost unbelievingly at the man as he made this statement, but he went on calmly:
“I had to. She’s water logged, and bound to sink the first capful of breeze that hits her.”
“Where are the passengers and crew?” asked the airman.
“Abandoned her early this morning. I was down in the cabin getting this”—and the speaker tapped the tin box as though it contained something precious. “They missed me, and were away in the boat before I knew it.”
“But the fire?”
“I made this raft ready against the ship scuttling. Thought I’d fire the ship for a signal for help. You see it did some good.”
“Well, get aboard,” ordered the airman.
“What about him?” inquired the shipwrecked man, and he pointed to the tarpaulin on the raft.
“Someone there?”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“A man I rescued not an hour ago. He lay across a wooden grating, floating along past the ship. His head is bleeding, and he is unconscious.”
Mr. King directed Dave and Hiram to assist in lifting the insensible man to the yawl. The latter was limp and lifeless as some water logged rat. They placed him in the bottom of the yawl and resumed their oars.
“See here,” spoke the man with the tin box, “the best you can do for me is a sky sailor, is it?”
“That, or nothing,” replied the airman.
“Where are you bound for?”
“Across the Atlantic, for Europe.”
“I knew it would come some day,” observed the rescued man quite coolly. “You see, I’m an inventor myself. I’ve got in that tin box patents for a new kind of color photography that will make me millions. I’m not altogether poor just now, either, and if you set me and my patents safe onterra firmaalmost anywhere, I’ll pay a handsome reckoning.”
Within the hour the rescued men were hoisted safely into the airship and the yawl replaced in position. The unconscious man had been carried into one of the staterooms. Professor Leblance had quite a smattering of medicine. He examined the patient, prepared some remedies from a medicine chest the craft carried, and came into the cabin to report to Mr. Dale.
“A very sick man. What water and exposure have not done, a bad cut on the head has. He is delirious and in a weak and feverish condition. I would suggest that you in the cabin here take turns in caring for him.”
All hands were agreeable to this. In the excitement and bustle of the rescue, Dave and the others had not particularly noticed the sufferer. Dave had scarcely entered the place where the patient lay, however, with Hiram, when he gave a great start. He stood with his eyes fixed on the man, as he spoke hurriedly to his comrade.
“Go to Mr. King and tell him to come here at once.”
“What is it, Dashaway?” inquired the airman, appearing a few minutes later.
“Look, Mr. King,” said the young aviator, pointing to the prostrate man; “who is he?”
“Impossible!” ejaculated Mr. King, starting back. “Why, it’s Roger Davidson!”
There was no doubt of the fact. In turn Grimshaw, young Brackett and even Hiram confirmed the identification.
“Here’s a new mystery for you,” admitted Mr. King, coming into the cabin an hour later. “The clothes that man wore show little adaptability to airship work. In one of his pockets I found the main stub of a steamship ticket. He never fell from any airship. I can account for his extraordinary appearance upon the scene in one way only.”
“And that?” questioned Mr. Dale.
“Is that he was lost off some ocean steamer. One thing certain—theDictatornever started across the Atlantic with this man in charge.”
For three days Davidson lay insensible most of the time. Meanwhile theAlbatrosscoursed its way without accident or delay. All hands were delighted over the success thus far of their wonderful enterprise. They passed the three-quarters distance mark with every prospect of reaching goal in splendid trim.
It was a cool, cloudy and misty night, and both the professor and airman were on close guard on account of the changed weather conditions. The boys were reading in the cozy cabin. Grimshaw and Mr. Dale had gone to bed, and everything seemed proceeding smoothly in engine and pilot rooms. Finally Hiram looked up from his book.
“We are surely going to make it,” he remarked. “The professor says that it will be a clean shoot ahead for land first thing in the morning.”
“I can hardly realize that there is every chance of reaching the goal and winning the prize,” observed the young aviator.
“Say, what was that?” abruptly interjected young Brackett.
There had come a sudden shock. It resembled a wrench, a shiver; as if some vital part of the giant mechanism had met with disaster.
“Something wrong!” cried Dave, springing to his feet.
At that moment a blood-curdling yell echoed through the airship.