ARRIVED WITH A BUMP FACING COMMANDER JACKSONPage85
They stepped into that strange lift again and were whisked on high. A minute later they were in the open, with a brisk breeze blowing about them and the genial rays of the sun pouring down upon them. Gazing in every direction Dick found himself stepping upon a flat deck of transparent material, immediately beneath which he could easily see the beams that supported it. Down lower still, beneath a deep space, which common sense told him must be filled with gas, were more beams, curving neatly to complete the shape of this ship, and beneath them again, stretching on either side of a central gallery a number of cabins, some with transparent roofs, others with opaque material let into the ceilings. And yet deeper, forming the lowest portion of the ship, was one long compartment, through the roof of which he could see engines, with a couple of men attending to them.
"Let's get along aft, then we'll make forward," said Alec, showing the various parts of the ship with pride. "I'll tell you something about her. She's longer than the latest Zeppelin, and equally deep from top to bottom. You can see that her shape is flattened from above downward, which makes her very much wider than a Zeppelin. Care to come out to one of the side keels?"
Dick hesitated. Then catching sight of a rail passing from this main deck down the easily-sloping side of the vessel he nodded. After all, he wasn't going to be beaten by Alec.
"Right," he said. "Get ahead."
They clambered over the main rail to find themselves on a narrow way provided with very shallow steps. This brought them after a minute right out to the farthest lateral edge of the ship, to that lateral keel, in fact, which Joe Gresson had made such a pointof. And there the rail ended abruptly. Alec leaned over it and invited Dick to join him.
"Ripping, eh?" he asked. "Getting your balance at last, I expect. Don't seem so dreadful now, does it?"
It did not by a great deal. The midshipman was bound to confess that he was becoming accustomed to his surroundings. More than that, the huge bulk of this floating monster, the fact that she never even trembled, while the weight of himself and his comrade now brought right out to the farthest edge caused no sign of heeling, impressed him vastly with the stability of the vessel. He was beginning to catch some of Alec's enthusiasm. He was longing to peep into every corner, to get to understand every detail. And we must remember that Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw was not unacquainted with things mechanical. What naval officer can be in these days, indeed, when the old wooden walls have long since departed, and when your modern ship is composed of steel, while almost every movement aboard her, however trivial, is, where possible, carried out by some cleverly-contrived mechanical means? No, Dick had a fondness for mechanics. And here, aboard the airship, he guessed that his fondness was to be gratified to the utmost.
"Let's get back to the deck again," he said at last, when they had gazed below at the muddy ocean. "I'm dying to see more. Now, what are these rails for? It beats me your having a deck on top of the ship. But I suppose it's necessary. Why rails on the deck? That's what I can't fathom."
But he saw the reason a little later, for Alec took him to a sunken deck house, which, seeing that its roof was dead level with the deck, might be expected to offer no resistance whatever to the air. Opening a trap, he ushered his new friend in, though the contents were plainly to be seen without that manœuvre. And there, anchored to the floor, was a pair of spreading planes, as transparent as glass, strong and flexible, attached at their centre to a boat constructed of the same material.
"An aeroplane!" he gasped. "Here, on an airship? Why?"
"For scouting. To act as a messenger. To take passengers to and fro when it's necessary."
Alec spoke loftily, watching Dick's amazement with secret delight. "That's why there are rails on the deck outside," he explained. "She starts from 'em."
"But—but how does she return?" asked Dick, somewhat bewildered, for whoever heard of an aeroplane flying towards an airship and settling upon it? But Alec dismissed the question with a shrug of his shoulders, and a wave of his hands.
"Ain't there enough deck to please you?" he asked. "Do you want to provide a drill ground? You just operate a motor; this sunken hangar rises with the aeroplane, and there you are, ain't you?"
Dick felt the truth of the words. The huge monster on which he had found refuge presented a deck wide enough and long enough to provide safe landing for any aviator. As for this plane upon which he looked, it was obviously meant to float in the water, in fact,it was a waterplane, though the long, centrally-placed boat, to which the planes were immediately attached, was provided with wheels also, to enable it to roll upon the rails, and also to land either on this deck or on terra firma. It was, without shadow of doubt, the last word in the science and manufacture of a heavier-than-air machine.
"Ripping!" exclaimed Dick. "You've been in her?" he asked admiringly, with just a suspicion of jealousy in his voice.
"Once: I'm going again. You'll come too."
"From here? At this height?"
The possibilities of a swoop away from the broad deck of the airship, till a little while ago seeming to be so insecure, and now, compared with the machine he was inspecting, so broad and strong and trustworthy, was almost appalling. Dick wondered whether he could really screw his courage up to board this aeroplane, to sit in that flimsy boat and wait for the machine to move along the rails, to gather speed, and then to hurl herself over the side of the vessel. It made that old, creepy sensation return. Dick was one of those fellows gifted with an acute imagination, and consequently suffered on occasions. Here, then, was an occasion, and he was bold and open enough to admit the fact that he hardly viewed the prospect with enthusiasm.
"But you will soon," Alec told him. "It's simply a case of getting used to the sensation, and then you long to go out. But let's leave the deck. You can see that we carry guns. They're provided by theAdmiralty. Yes, my boy, by the Admiralty. You see, both the War Office and the Admiralty have been stirred up by Mr. Provost. They had to move. They had to inspect this ship when she was completed. And inspection was enough for the two authorities. They began to stir, to get a move on with a vengeance, and, as a result, we've men aboard sent by the two services, guns up here, and on the deck below, a wireless apparatus, and an officer from either service, Commander Jackson for one, while the soldier is to come to us almost immediately. Of course, I ain't forgetting Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw."
He grinned a wicked grin at Dick and went racing away from him. As for the young sailor, he gave chase on the instant, so that presently the ship rang with their merry cries. And indeed, they made a race of it, for Alec made for the gangway built around the lift, racing down the steep stairs as fast as active legs could carry him. Dick, however, proved his salt and his training. Finding a smooth, central girder of that strange and transparent material, he wrapped his legs round it, and went shooting like a descending rocket to the deck below where he arrived with a resounding bump, to find himself directly facing Commander Jackson.
"'Mornin', sir!" he gasped, drawing himself up and touching the peak of his hat. "Fine weather, sir."
"For monkey tricks, yes," laughed the Commander. "Well, lad, how do you like the vessel? Seen the aeroplane? Eh? Like a trip aboard her? I'm the coxswain."
"Rather, sir," gasped Dick. "This is the finest thing I've had to do since I joined the Navy."
"Indeed! You've been an officer a long while I take it," smiled his senior. "Quite one of the older ones, Dick, eh? Come; I'll stop quizzing. Let's get along to the engines; Joe Gresson has gone there. There's no keeping him away from them. Come; you'll see the height of simplicity combined with the uttermost efficiency that has yet been attained."
Dick did indeed inspect a machine which, with its components, gave extraordinary power to the ship. To put the description with the utmost plainness, he found when he descended to the engine-room three sets of engines, of moderate size, and of the internal-combustion variety. There was nothing remarkable, perhaps, about the engines themselves, except that they were a modification of the Diesel.
"You see, a Diesel uses extremely high compression," Joe Gresson explained, leaning one hand affectionately on an engine which happened not to be working. "That can be managed easily ashore, and in the air also. But compressors are required in addition to the engine, for the explosive charge, consisting of the crudest oil, must be injected into the cylinders by pneumatic power at a critical moment, and that power must be at higher pressure than the contents of the cylinder. To me the most important question was the one of fuel. I barred petrol."
"Why?" Dick ventured to ask. "It's used on other airships."
"And other ships suffer from explosions and from fire. Petrol is too inflammable, particularly upon a ship which is lifted by a huge volume of gas. So I chose crude paraffin oil, the sort of oil that you can obtain in any part of Europe, almost in any part of the world. To discover a carburettor which would vaporize this crude oil was difficult. But a friend came to my help, and here you see the result. Our engines run steadily and strongly."
He pointed to the other two, which, as he said, were turning over noiselessly and with a rhythm that told its tale plainly. Even Dick had sufficient experience of this class of engine to know that the running was excellent. But beyond that he was somewhat fogged. For besides some machinery housed in at the end of each motor, and a certain number of switches and levers common to any engine-room, there was nothing to indicate in what manner the power of the engines was conveyed, nor in what direction. Where was the propeller? How did these motors operate it? By electricity? Perhaps, for he could see a large dynamo revolving at the far end of the cabin. But he was by no means certain. He asked the question instantly, causing Joe to raise his head, open a port at the far end of the cabin, and invite him to look through it.
"We're a little aft of amidships here," he explained, "and form the lowest attachment to the vessel. We're dead in the central line, and the weight of these motors and of other accessories housed in what compares with the keel of an ordinary ship, keeps her perfectly steady. Now, look yonder. That is the tail end of the ship.You can see the propeller, and as it is revolving and you cannot, therefore, distinguish its outline I had better tell you something about it. To begin, it's both propeller and rudder. See, I wish to turn the vessel. I press this lever to the right and at once the propeller swings in the same way, driving the tail of the ship to the left. See, I reverse the motion. Or, perhaps, I wish to descend or rise—hold tight, please, gentlemen, while I give our friend here a little demonstration! But first, let me say that the propeller itself is forty feet in diameter, presents half a dozen blades, the pitch of which can be instantly altered, while the blades are encircled by a tube some twenty feet in depth from back to front. Thus the air drawn into this revolving tube cannot escape to either side, and the blades lose no efficiency, while one can readily understand that when the ship is travelling quickly, particularly against a head wind, the alteration in the pitch of the blades makes for greater speed and more effectual use of the power. Now, hold tight, please. We'll show our friend of what we are capable."
At a touch upon a lever the propeller that Dick was watching, and which was rotating very slowly, suddenly gathered speed, till it was but a mere haze in the distance. He felt the whole ship move forward, while a touch on another lever bent the propeller downward, and to his consternation the deck he stood on canted badly, the vessel headed downward and went hurtling towards that muddy ocean which he could see below him. The sensation wasin fact paralysing. It was worse, perhaps, when it was reversed, and the nose of the ship shot upward, setting the deck at such an angle that Dick had to cling hard to the railings fending the motors. But a moment later, at a touch from the inventor, she came to an even keel, the propeller ceased to rotate, while the vessel came to a halt.
"Now, see how we rise at will," said Joe, watching Dick's face with delight, for it pleased the young inventor to notice the open admiration with which the youthful sailor regarded everything. "Now, I pull this handle. We fall. I reverse the movement. We shoot upward, but always keeping the horizontal position."
It was really remarkable, for the mere touch of the inventor sent the ship up and down, for all the world as if she were suspended in space, and his fingers controlled the switch of some hoisting machinery.
"How's it done?" asked Dick eagerly. "How does the power get to that propeller, for instance? Your motors are here. There are no chains, no shafts, nothing save these cased-in things at the end of each motor, which might be pumps for all I know."
"And happen to be exactly what you have mentioned. They are pumps, of the rotary variety, and the material they deal with is that same common, crude paraffin on which our motors run. See those pipes. They are of the best, cold-drawn steel. They convey the oil from our pumps to the various propellers,to the lift and to any part where we have need for power. No corner is too sharp for them. They run anywhere, and, as you can imagine, convey the power of these engines with a certainty there is no gainsaying. Of course, at the far end we have other rotary motors. The oil pumped at this point, and under high pressure, is unable to escape from the steel pipes. At will we pass it into our distant motors, allowing some to escape back in this direction through a bypass. If the bypass is pulled wide open, the motors beyond do not turn; for the oil fails to reach them. If it is closed, there is no escape for the oil. It reaches the motors at its highest pressure, and operates them at full power, as powerfully, in fact, as if this engine down here driving the pumps was away up there close to the propeller with the shaft directly coupled to it. In short, and as an interesting fact, our propellers and other gear are operated by hydraulic power, applied after the latest principle."
"Which is a lesson that will keep you for a while," smiled the Commander. "Ah, there's our host, and I hear the breakfast gong sounding. Come, Dick, my lad, you could eat, you think? the great height at which we fly does not rob you of your appetite?"
Not by a long way. The young fellow was beginning to revel in his strange surroundings, and to quite like this residence at a height. More than all, he was vastly interested in the intricacies of the vessel. And we record only the fact when we saythat he and Alec spent the whole of the morning in a close and thorough investigation, an investigation which disclosed, among other matters, the interesting fact that centrally-placed propellers, operating in tubes built transversely at either end of the ship, controlled her sideways movements, making entrance to a hangar easy, while she could be caused to descend or rise by others, located fore and aft likewise, with their tubes built in the vertical direction. As for the huge framework that held the gas, it was divided into twenty compartments, to each of which pipes of that strange transparent material led. These latter ended in one large branch which was attached to a machine at one end of the engine-room. Joe explained its action with a gusto that showed it to be one of his pet items, one on which he prided himself not a little.
"What's the good of a ship which has to constantly return to land for gas supplies?" he said. "We take ours with us. Not compressed and in steel cylinders. Anyone can do that. But in the form of fuel. We carry a matter of seven tons, and can get a further supply in any part of the world. A gas producer of my own designing deals with the stuff, and at desire we can supply gas to replace leakages. Not that we experience those. Otherwise it would not be safe to smoke. But each one of our compartments aboard the ship contains a proportion of air. When we want to go higher, or lift a bigger weight, we simply set the producer going, and by means of one of our motors pump gas to the top of thecompartments. Simple, isn't it? But it makes us wonderfully independent. That's why we've undertaken to make a trip round the world."
"Round the world? When?"
"Now—to-morrow, that is to say."
"And—and I go with you?" gasped Dick.
"Of course; you've been detailed by the Admiralty."
The shout which the midshipman gave might have been heard at the far end of the vessel. The prospect filled him with delight, so that he was simply boiling over with enthusiasm and anticipation. Nor did his excitement evaporate as the day advanced. For the ship manœuvred over the ocean, and was put through her paces. Towards evening, however, her nose was turned to the north-east, and as night fell she hovered over England. Slowly she descended, obscured in darkness, till her pilot was able to pick up his bearings. A distant light of curious colour caught his eye and he sent the ship towards it. Then, when directly overhead that same brilliant light suddenly shot from the ship and flooded the buildings beneath. Dick found himself looking down upon a huge shed, placed in a wide-open place, and—could he believe his eyes?—the shed was moving, revolving, actually turning. It made him giddy. Or was it this wonderful ship which was turning?
"It's the revolving hangar, of course," Alec told him, with a laugh. "You see, if the wind's blowing, we head up to it. The hangar opens away from the point from which the gale comes. We manœuvreopposite it, and enter easily. You watch. No one is wanted to hang on to ropes. Our pilot can manage the ship in any direction. See, we've dropped opposite the shed; but we're not quite head on. We're getting near it, however, for those propellers located in the cross tubes are being set to work. Ah! that's better. See, we're creeping in. Now our huge lateral keels run into wide slots built into the sides of the hangar. They engage and run in farther. Right! We're home. Welcome to our kennel."
And what of the trip promised by Joe Gresson, and of the adventures it might and certainly should bring in its train?
"Jingo!" cried Dick, as he hastened to the post office to send a telegram requesting that his full kit might be sent to him. "Jingo, if we don't have a cruise worth talking about, well—well, my name ain't Dicky."
It may be imagined that the manufacture of an airship such as Dick Hamshaw had been introduced to, the child of Joe Gresson's clever brain, was not the work of a day. Four months had slipped by since that eventful day on which the young inventor and his uncle, Andrew Provost, had witnessed the flight of the Zeppelin outside Hamburg, and had accepted Carl Reitberg's somewhat arrogant challenge.
Nor did the trial flights of this wonderful vessel escape public notice, though, it is true, her hull was practically invisible. But the rescue of a naval party sent to help a foundered aviator was bound to be reported, so that on the very morning after Andrew and his friends reached their hangar, the journals were filled with this new mystery, while columns, indeed, were devoted to this new airship.
"Sensational rescue at sea by the crew of a strange airship," Dick read. "Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw and a party of six men aboard a steam pinnace were left struggling in the water owing to their craft colliding with a half-submerged waterplane. Who is the owner of the airship? To what nationality does she belong? Another air peril. Ship reported tobe practically transparent and, therefore, almost invisible."
There was quite a furore about the affair, and no wonder, since England was still a laggard, and still employed her officers, capable and dashing enough themselves, in playing with toy airships—to wit, the Alpha, the Beta, and the Gamma. Other nations were pushing ahead. To us had belonged the mastery of the sea for years, the heavier element hemming our tight little island around. Now the lighter element was in danger of conquest by some other nation, by a nation which at any moment might prove to be an enemy, and which, within a few hours might have her air fleet hovering over our ports, our arsenals, our war harbours, even over London itself. Was this, then, a newcomer to add to our perils?
"I shall make it clear at once," said Mr. Provost, with that decision one expected of him. "I shall send a statement to the papers. You ain't afraid of the thing being copied, eh, Joe?"
Joe smiled at that. He was a young man of singularly few words; one read his answers often enough by his features. He shook his head vigorously now, and laughed outright.
"Afraid! no. Why should I be, Uncle? They can copy the design any time. But they can't manufacture celludine. That is my secret, yours if anything happens to me, the British nation's whenever we care to give it to them. Send along your statement. It will calm many who feel that another danger threatens."
And so the evening journals one and all contained a crisp statement from Andrew, a statement vouched for by one of the ministers of the realm. Thenceforward, as may be imagined, the curiosity of the nation was acutely stirred. Men walked along staring into the sky, as if expecting to see the airship. There were more taxi-cab accidents from this one cause in London that week than had happened in a similar period before. And far and wide people who were utter strangers to one another congratulated those they met at the news which had been published.
"Splendid! Magnificent! We'll be able to sleep peacefully in our beds now," observed Mr. Tobias Jones aloud to his fellow passengers as he travelled to the city. He omitted to mention that he never by any chance slept badly. His fatness, his red cheeks and blushing health proclaimed that well enough. But he was a patriot and the statement he had ventured upon, and which he repeated a dozen times that day under different circumstances, went only to prove his love for his country.
Meanwhile one may wonder how it was that Joe Gresson had been able to construct his ship in such a short space of time.
"Of course, the thing would have been impossible had I not had a great deal of the work already in hand," he told his uncle. "You see, a Zeppelin can be constructed in three months, though the first models took a year perhaps. But you must remember that I had a complete rolling mill installed here at my works, which was able to turn out the girders andsheets we wanted as fast as we could put them together. Then again, the bending and fitting of celludine is a different thing entirely from that of steel or aluminium. Moderate heat will easily make the stoutest girder we have used bendable, while the sheets require only the gentlest pressure. Then riveting is far easier. The electric iron has saved us numbers of hours. As for the engines, I had them by me, having taken them from my other model. So, after all, there's nothing very wonderful about the business."
But if Joe Gresson modestly thought there was nothing to comment upon and no reason for congratulations to be showered upon him, there were others who thought quite the opposite. Andrew was hugely delighted. The authorities at the War Office and the Admiralty, sceptical as ever, took the thing up with a decision and an energy entirely foreign to them. And Mr. Carl Reitberg narrowly escaped a serious illness.
"What! Constructed their airship already! Rescued people at sea! Transparent! Able to hoist men into the air as if they were flies. This—this is incredible."
He didn't say it all quite like that, for he was troubled with a distinct accent, one, too, which had stuck to him all his business life in spite of the fact that he had spent so many years beneath the protection of the Union Jack. He blustered, fumed, and raged, and finally went to bed. The following day he carefully investigated his financial position.
"It will ruin me, this challenge," he declared in despair. "One hundred thousand pounds! It is a gigantic sum. I was an idiot ever to listen to Andrew Provost and his fool of a nephew. But—himmel!we shall see what we shall see. The ship is built, that is true enough. But can she circle the globe, and if she be able to do that, can she complete the journey in four months and a couple of weeks, all that remain now of the agreed-upon nine months? Ah! There is many a slip. She is fast, this ship. Eyewitnesses of her flight tell me that. She takes no notice of the wind. But Zeppelins have met with accidents: she may too!"
His fat little face was deeply puckered and seamed for the next half-hour. In fact, Mr. Carl Reitberg was considering matters very deeply and seriously. Then he took a sudden resolution. He donned a magnificent fur-lined coat, jammed a glossy hat upon his head, then, with a fat cigar protruding from his mouth, and wearing the ideal appearance of a very rich and prosperous financier, he stepped into his motor car and drove off to the place where the great airship had been constructed. Sergeant Evans himself conveyed his somewhat large and obtrusive card to Andrew Provost.
"A gentleman to see you, sir," he said in his well-trained voice. "H-m!"
Andrew could tell almost without lifting his eyes to the Sergeant's face what his private opinion was of Mr. Reitberg; for the card bore that gentleman's name. Not that Sergeant Evans was apt to forgethis position. He was too good and too old a servant for that. But he happened to have served in many parts, and, strangely enough, Mr. Reitberg was known to him.
"Ever seen the gentleman before?" asked Andrew curiously.
"South Africa, sir."
"Ah!"
"Him and a crew of the same sort as himself, begging pardon, sir."
"Humph! I've thought as much myself," Andrew muttered, though exactly what his thoughts were he did not divulge. Still, from the curious manner in which Sergeant Evans spoke, from a queer inflection of his voice, Andrew gathered that he had not only met this Carl Reitberg before, but had little good to report concerning him.
"Long ago?" he asked laconically.
"Twelve years come Christmas, sir; during the Boer War."
"Ah! And my acquaintance has lasted for ten years perhaps. He was rich when I met him, and very pleasant. Was he, er—the same, Sergeant Evans? Please speak out; don't hesitate to tell me what you know. You must understand that Mr. Carl Reitberg is the challenger who declared that the building of this ship was impossible, and that we could not construct and sail her round the world in nine months. Well, we've done the first part. We've got only to circle the world."
"And you'll have to watch him all the while, sir,"whispered the Sergeant. "He's got to pay if he loses, sir?"
"One hundred thousand pounds."
The Sergeant let go a little whistle. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but when I knew this Carl Reitberg, same gentleman as is waiting outside, he was a slippery fellow. He was trading near Johannesburg, and he was in with foreigners, spies anxious to see the British troops beaten. I know that, for I was one of the police corps, and we'd our eyes on him. Show him up, sir?"
"Certainly."
It followed that the magnificent, if small and podgy frame of Mr. Carl Reitberg was introduced to the airship, and that within five minutes, puffing heavily with the astounding wonders he saw, that same gentleman was seated in the saloon, staring upward through the transparent ceiling with positive amazement written on his face. An hour later he was back in the heart of London, when, dismissing his motor, he walked some distance up the street, hailed a taxi, and drove rapidly away in an easterly direction. Half an hour later, perhaps, he was closeted in a back room of a grimy house adjacent to Whitechapel, with an individual who looked the very opposite of himself. He was untidy, down at heels, even ragged, while his face with its half-sunken cheeks showed obvious traces of excitement. It was equally obvious also that Carl Reitberg and this individual were not entire strangers. To be precise, they had at one time been bosom companions,at the very time, in fact, when Sergeant Evans had had knowledge of them. Then they had parted, and the queer tricks Dame Fortune plays with various individuals had resulted in Carl Reitberg gathering wealth about him, while Adolf Fruhmann had become almost a pauper. And it had chanced that the wealthy and lucky man had caught sight of his old-time friend but a week before as he drove in his lordly motor down Whitechapel. He had seen Adolf Fruhmann hovering at one of the many corners; and though he passed him then without so much as a nod—indeed, shrinking back out of sight—he now remembered the chance vision he had caught of the down-at-heels man, and with the view of obtaining help from him sought him out.
"But I must go carefully," he told himself, as he drove in his taxi. "I'll leave the cab very soon, and then walk along the pavement. It shall be Adolf who shall recognize me, not I him. Then it shall be he who shall ask for help; I will give it."
The crafty little fellow followed out this plan to its successful conclusion. Looking the plutocrat admirably, he stepped briskly down the pavement of Whitechapel, and when he saw his man in the distance, gave vent to a grunt of pleasure. And yet he contrived matters so that it was Adolf who, looking up as the fur-coated man passed, recognized an old partner.
"Hallo!" he called, while a sulky cloud gathered upon his sickly face. "Carl Reitberg of all people!"
Now at any other time Mr. Carl Reitberg would,as we have hinted, not have been anxious to renew an acquaintance with such a man. His wealth had brought with it position. Carl Reitberg chose to forget his earlier days, and the people with whom he had consorted. But now he had an object in view, and halting at once he allowed first a look of amazement to spread over his fat and jowly face; and then a welcoming smile set his lips apart, while he stretched out a hand to grip Adolf's.
"You!" he cried. "Who could have thought it? And here of all places. Why, we parted in South Africa."
"Johnny'sberg—yes; because the police——"
"H-hush! That's done with; I've forgotten," said Carl hastily. "But—but you're down on your luck. I haven't forgotten that we were friends then, at any rate. This place is too public for a meeting. Take me somewhere where we can be quiet."
And thus it happened that they were closeted in that back room in the grimy house adjacent to Whitechapel.
"And so you're down, penniless," said Carl, eyeing his one-time friend narrowly.
"Absolutely; hopelessly."
The opulent individual who had sought this interview so craftily lifted ten fat fingers to show his concern. Then he dipped with difficulty into a waistcoat pocket, pulled out a crinkling note of the value of five pounds, and handed it across the dirty table.
"That'll tide you over for a little," he said. "After that——"
"Ah! That's where the pinch comes. What am I to do?"
"You want work?" asked Carl.
"Well, yes. Not hard labour, mind you. The class of thing we did out in South Africa wouldn't come amiss."
Whatever that task may have been one was not to hear it, for Carl held up a fat hand instantly.
"S-s-sh!" he said, somewhat angrily. "Least said soonest mended. We forget South Africa. But—yes, I might find a task for you, a congenial task. You've heard of this new airship?"
Adolf Fruhmann looked puzzled. After all, when a man has fallen upon evil days and finds it hard to discover from where his next meal is to come, he is not apt to betray much interest in passing events, nor has he, often enough, spare halfpence with which to purchase journals. But it happened that Adolf had seen an account in a paper, and since the story had now leaked out, and it was known how Mr. Carl Reitberg had issued a challenge to Andrew Provost and his nephew Joseph Gresson, he recollected that he had even noted the name of his one-time friend and associate in connection with this wonderful airship.
"Yes," he ejaculated. "One hundred thousand pounds, eh, Carl? A lot to lose if they win, and it looks as if they might do so."
A crafty look came across his face. He leaned farther across the table and whispered something. "Why don't you?" he asked.
"What! Impossible! I couldn't. It would be scandalous," came the instant answer, though Carl Reitberg's tones rather belied his words. "You don't mean to suggest that I should take steps to—to destroy the ship?"
He endeavoured to cast a tone of indignation into his speech now; but it seemed that Adolf knew his man well. He scoffed at that tone.
"Why not?" he asked quickly. "If they win, you pay one hundred thousand pounds. Eh? One hundred thousand sovereigns."
"True—but——"
"There is no but. They must not succeed. There are others who would willingly pay for the secrets of this airship, and who long to hear that she has been wrecked. Give me the job. Keep in the background yourself. Go down to the ship and wish them the best of success. Place yourself in a good light before them and the world. Let them believe you to be what is known to these fools as a sportsman. Yes, that is the word. A sportsman, almost anxious to see yourself lose, and ready at any moment to pay that hundred thousand pounds. Then leave the rest to me."
Carl Reitberg sank back upon the hard-wood chair he occupied and pondered deeply. Even Adolf Fruhmann with all his knowledge of Carl's cunning—and in former days the two associates had carried out many a rascally piece of business together, demanding no little acumen and cunning—even he failed to see to the depths of Carl Reitberg. For theplutocrat had skilfully planned this meeting with one object in view, and had so arranged matters that this proposal, which he listened to with pretended indignation, and which had been hatched in his own brain, came actually from Adolf Fruhmann. To appear too ready to fall in with it would be to weaken his own position. Therefore he sat bunched up on his chair, one fat hand over his eyes, but those same orbs closely scrutinizing his companion's crafty features from between his own fat fingers. He remained in that position for a full five minutes, while Adolf fidgeted and fretted. For the man was eager to undertake this work, a task after his own rascally heart. He had not been engaged in South Africa, in delving for British secrets and in selling them to the enemy without something resulting. A born schemer, those experiences had whetted his appetite for more conspiracy. Besides, it was a game which promised wealth, while it had an element of danger that appealed to the rascal, for, to give him his due, he was a man of courage, a man who faced odds willingly, and who found in difficulties and danger the stimulus that whetted his efforts and gave a zest to an undertaking.
"Well," he demanded impatiently, "you know me by now. Have I failed before? There was that affair at Nicholson's Cloof. Did I fail there? Then why now? As for you, who is to learn that you are mixed up in the affair? Go down to these people. Pass yourself off as a sportsman, and—leave the rest to me."
Carl stirred. He took the fat hand from his face and looked at his companion. "How much?" he asked curtly. "What will you do this for?"
The remainder of their conversation was carried on in low tones and with the greatest earnestness. These two rascals, for both were that, bargained eagerly, and it was quite an hour later before they parted. Then Mr. Carl Reitberg passed out of the house, roughly pushed aside a poor woman who begged alms of him, hailed a taxi, and drove away to his gorgeous mansion. He left Adolf Fruhmann richer than he had been for many a day, with the promise of abundance in the future and sufficient money with which to carry on the plot so craftily hatched in that back room in the grimy house off Whitechapel. The following day found the magnate down at Joe Gresson's wonderful hangar again. He was geniality itself. He had come to wish the crew and the ship a safe voyage and a rapid one, and to hope that nothing might happen to arrest their progress or to damage the airship.
"To my old friend, Mr. Andrew Provost," he said, "and to his wonderful nephew, Mr. Joseph Gresson. May they return triumphant!"
Lifting the glass of wine he had been sipping and standing up he solemnly drank the health of the party. Then, with a cordial grip of the hand all round, he left the ship under the pilotage of Sergeant Evans. His tongue was in his cheek as he stepped on to the gangway which led to the floor of the hangar. He turned to wave his adieus to the peopleabove, distinguishable through the framework of the vessel. And then he regarded the Sergeant with a puzzled expression.
"Strange," he said. "I seem to know your face, to have met you before."
"The other day, sir," came the respectful and guarded answer; "I took your card up to Mr. Andrew."
"Yes, that must be the explanation," Carl told himself, and departed satisfied. He was more than satisfied, in fact, and hugged himself in the depths of his motor car. For the interview had gone off wonderfully. A reporter who, thanks to his own skilful arrangement, had been present, proceeded at once to write up a glowing account of the meeting, and that evening the world learned that Mr. Carl Reitberg had been aboard the airship, where he had generously wished all the utmost success, had drank to their health, and had shown in every way that he was a sportsman. More than that, he had intimated his intention of at once depositing one hundred thousand pounds at his bankers', so that, in the likely event, as he hoped, of the successful termination of the venture, Mr. Andrew Provost might claim it instantly. What could be fairer or more magnanimous? What could be better calculated to throw dust in the eyes of the public, and, more important than all, in the eyes of the crew of the airship? Carl Reitberg not only hugged himself as he sank back amid the luxurious cushions of his landaulette. He chuckled loudly. He rubbed his fat hands unctuously together andpositively grinned. Yes, he had been wonderfully canny and successful. It remained now for the crafty Adolf Fruhmann to carry on the conspiracy and see it to a successful ending.
"Bah! Thought he'd seen me before. Didn't let on that it was out in South Africa," Sergeant Evans was murmuring as he entered the vessel again. "Now if I know Mr. Reitberg he ain't up to any good. He's a foxy fellow at any time, the chap who sits at home and does the gentleman, while those friends of his carry out the scheme that he's after. Well, I for one will keep an eye open."
The three days which passed after Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw added his important presence to the airship were decidedly busy ones. He himself had his kit to obtain and friends to say farewell to. And then there was the victualling of the ship, a matter of great importance. All day and night carts arrived at the hangar, and the crew of the ship, composed almost entirely of soldiers and sailors, were engaged in piling cases upon the lift and hoisting them into the interior of the vessel. Sufficient tinned goods were taken to last the party for five months. There was fuel to be considered, and one had to remember that a journey of the description contemplated demanded various weights of clothing, weapons, ammunition, in fact a hundred and one items. But at length, thanks to Joe Gresson's foresight and Andrew Provost's energy, they were gathered and stored in the huge storage rooms of the vessel. The hangar swung round easily with her head away fromthe wind, while the motors began to rumble. Stationed with Joe in the engine-room Alec and Dick watched the young inventor gently handle a lever, and looking backward saw the gigantic propeller reverse. The ship moved. Those wide lateral keels running upon rollers inserted in the wide slots on either side, which were part and parcel of the hangar, began to slide gently away from their holding. The ship backed slowly and surely out of her hangar till she was entirely clear. A bell sounded in the engine-room, while a voice was heard through the loud-speaking telephone. It was from Hurst, now trained to new duties, and at that moment stationed on the upper deck, right on the prow of the vessel.
"All clear, sir," he called. "She backed forty feet from the hangar. All clear."
Another bell sounded. "All clear aft," came from Hawkins, stationed near the propeller.
"Then we ascend. What's the time?" asked Joe.
"Eight thirty, sir," answered Dick promptly. "Eight thirty p.m."
"Precisely; and the day is Wednesday?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then in one hundred and twenty-four days, less three hours and thirty minutes from this moment, we are due to return. If we are here then, and our foreign office passport has been properly initialled, then we shall have won the challenge. We can let her go. Stand by there! I'm going to take her up quickly. Then London shall have a glimpse of their ship, and afterwards——"
"Yes, afterwards?" asked Commander Jackson, who had now joined them.
Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? I myself have confidence in the vessel. But accidents may happen. We might be delayed by the smallest and most unexpected circumstance. We can but make the attempt."
"And win or lose I shall be satisfied," chimed in Andrew. "Let her go."
The motors roared. Those elevator fans within the ship whirled at a giddy rate, and at once the gigantic framework shot upward till she was two thousand feet above the hangar. Then Joe touched another lever. The propeller in rear began to sing its own strange note. The ship moved forward and that adventurous voyage had begun.
"Starting's easier than returning," Mr. Carl Reitberg told himself with a chuckle when he read of the departure of the ship on the following morning and of her appearance over London. "Let 'em wait a bit. Adolf Fruhmann has yet a word or so to say in the matter."
"And now, gentlemen, to discuss our route," said Mr. Andrew Provost once London was left behind, with its gaping and wildly-cheering crowds, amid which Carl Reitberg had a place, and the rascally Adolf Fruhmann also. "We are hovering at this moment over the Straits of Dover, and since, if our tour of the world is to be complete, we must waste no time, it will be as well if we map out a course without further delay."
In his practical manner he had provided himself with a huge globe, which now stood in the centre of the saloon table, with those who were to tour the world on the giant airship seated about it.
"Gentlemen," he went on, "the earth—or, rather, I should have said, the air—the air is before you and around you. Choose your path. To me and to my nephew the course we take is immaterial, with just this one reservation. We wish to take a path which will give us facilities for picking up both water and fuel. Now!"
Looking round the brightly-illuminated saloon he invited first the Commander, then Alec, and thenDick to give an opinion. But all in turn shook their heads.
"No, no," said the former eagerly. "To me it matters not a jot which course we take. Choose yourself. Or, if you merely ask for a suggestion, let us take the all-red route. Let us fly so as to pass over and call in upon as many British possessions as possible. There! That is a pleasant scheme. Why not?"
"Why not, indeed? Excellent!" cried Andrew. "Now, let us trace the route. But wait; there is one other to be consulted. I refer to Major Harvey, who came aboard just before we started. Perhaps he has some special wishes; let us consult him."
Sergeant Evans was at once sent to summon the latest guest aboard, and within a few minutes there entered the saloon a tall, well-set-up man of perhaps forty years of age, well groomed, spruce, and of active appearance, with features which might be described as prepossessing, while there was a firmness about the chin and a steadiness of the eyes which showed that the newcomer was possessed of courage. In short and in fact he was the beau ideal of a soldier, while his manner was easy and distinctly friendly. Nodding to all, for he had been introduced some three hours before, he sat himself down and looked across at Andrew.
"You sent for me," he said crisply, in a matter-of-fact way, even more businesslike than that of his host. "What is the question? Can I be of service?"
"Certainly, Major. There is a globe; you knowalready that we have been, as it were, challenged to tour the world, to make a complete circle of the globe. Well, then, choose a route for us. Commander Jackson suggests an all-red route, which shall take us over British possessions. If that meets with your approval, well and good. If not, then where shall we go—what course shall we steer?"
For answer the Major slowly rose from his seat, and, crossing to the table, carefully and critically examined the globe. Then he drew a packet of papers from his pocket, and, selecting one, handed it to Andrew.
"For me all courses are the same," he said with a smile; "but since I take it that from here to the centre of Europe is but a step for this magnificent vessel, I should be glad of the opportunity of visiting one part comparatively but a stone's throw from here. I speak of the Balkans. Please read that letter."
Andrew slowly opened the envelope, drew out the contents, and then donned his glasses. Adjusting them at the correct angle upon his nose, he held the letter up and read aloud.
"Adrianople, Thursday evening, 16 January, 1913."
"Adrianople!" cried the Commander. "That's the city now besieged for so long by the Bulgarian armies."
"Quite so; closely besieged," admitted the Major. "Very closely."
"Ahem!" Andrew cleared his throat. "You wish me to read it aloud?" he asked, waving the letter at the Major.
"Certainly."
"Then here it is. 'Dear Harvey, I write to inform you that I am held here in Adrianople, and should the siege continue much longer, the value of the information I have gained will be lost. But I cannot dispatch it in this letter. This must pass the scrutiny of both friends and enemies. Therefore it but announces my presence here, where I live as best I can. Please explain my continued absence to our mutual friends. Yours, Charlie.'"
Andrew took his glasses from his nose slowly, glanced sideways at the letter, and then direct at the Major. There was a puzzled look upon his face, a polite enquiry as much as to say, "Well, my dear sir, I don't understand. What has your friend Charlie to do with us? He's in Adrianople; so are scores of others. There's a British consul there, no doubt. Why should we go to this besieged city?"
Commander Jackson coughed; similar thoughts were passing through his quick brain also, though he gave his soldier friend credit for astuteness and common sense. "Must be something behind this letter," he said aloud.
"Certainly; Charlie knew that many eyes would see it before I received his hurried lines," said the Major. "But let me explain what it is that I gather by the reading of that letter. First, that Charlie is hemmed in in this besieged city. Next, that he has information which he cannot send through the post, or by means of a runner escaping from or permittedto leave the city. In fact and in short he has information of value, value to our mutual friends, who, I may further explain, happen to be the Government."
"Ah, I suspected something of the sort! What next?" asked Andrew.
"I will be frank," came the answer. "For the past three years Charlie and I have been engaged in some extremely delicate and important investigations in and around the Balkans. Pardon me if I am not more explicit on this matter. I left for London some two months ago, having lost all trace of Charlie. Now I know him to have obtained the information which we sought, information which, owing to the sudden onset of war and the siege of Adrianople, he is unable to impart. Well, Mr. Provost, that information is wanted by the Government at once. Delay is positively dangerous. I ask you in the name of this country to risk a visit to Adrianople and there attempt to pick up my friend and fellow investigator."
There was silence for perhaps two minutes, while the various people present in the saloon glanced at one another curiously, to see if possible what their fellows thought. Then Andrew spoke briskly and with marked decision.
"There will be guns about Adrianople?" he asked; "guns capable of sending shells high into the air? Mortars, in fact?"
"Precisely; there will be siege batteries. The Bulgars are wonderfully equipped. The Turks also, hemmed in in Adrianople, have some marvellous pieces."
"Any one of which, by exploding a shell within distance of us, could wreck the ship?"
The Major nodded. "True enough," he said coldly. "The risk would be great. If you are seen, a thousand rifles will be pointed at you. A hundred guns will be manœuvred so as to aim into the sky. The risk will be very great; I do not deny it."
"And the service will be equally great. You tell us that this matter is of urgent importance for England?"
Andrew asked his question sharply, as if he were cross-examining the Major. "You tell us that England has great need of this service? I ask for no details. Anyone can see that we are discussing a delicate matter. I merely ask again as to its importance."
"And I reply that the service is of the greatest. More than that, I will explain that the War Office had appointed another officer to this ship, and only changed their selection at the last moment. I was given precise instructions to bring this request before you at the earliest instant. You ask me how great is the importance of this matter, and I reply without hesitation that, even if this wonderful ship and her crew were destroyed in the successful effort to gain this information, then great, overwhelming as the loss would undoubtedly be, it would be but a small price to pay for the news which Charlie has gathered. As for Charlie, that is but anom de plume. The writer happens to be an officer high up in the British army."
The Major slowly surveyed his comrades, while he spoke deliberately. Then he drew a cigarette from his case, placed it between his lips and set a flaring match to it, with a nonchalance one had perforce to admire. For obviously enough Andrew's decision was of the utmost moment to him. Equally clearly it was borne upon the minds of those who listened that this mission, the barest details of which could be discussed, was of unusual importance. If Andrew and his nephew refused to jeopardize the safety of the airship by taking her into such a danger zone, then one could guess that particulars of the utmost moment would be lost entirely, or, what amounted to the same, their delivery would be so delayed that they would be useless.
"Well?" asked the Major, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "Your answer. I ask no favour. I have pointed out the risk."
"And I thank you heartily," cried Andrew. "Gentlemen, we will take the all-red route for this world tour, looking in at as many dependencies of the British crown as possible. And we will willingly take the risk of a visit to Adrianople. If there are any here who have no desire for this adventure, then we will set them down wherever they wish. Now, let us be moving."
It may be readily imagined that not one of those present in the brightly-lighted saloon had any qualms as to this projected visit, for to all of them was promised a novel situation. The Major and the Commander might hope, indeed, to witness a modernsiege in actual operation, while no doubt the successful manœuvring of this fine vessel would be of sufficient interest to Joe and Andrew. For Dick and Alec there was, of course, a decided attraction in the suggestion.
"Who knows, there might be a rumpus of some sort," declared the former. "We might get to see a bit of the fighting. How'd you like that?"
"How'd you?" Alec grinned back at him. "You're the one to answer, for you're a man of war. You're in the Navy."
"I'll tell you. If there's just the merest chance of getting down into the city I mean to take it," said Dick. "Then there's no knowing what may happen. How is the Major going to find this fellow Charlie? That's what beats me, for Adrianople is a big city. And how is he to bring him or his news aboard without descending? I tell you this ship'll have to be steered right over the armies. She'll have to drop to easy distance of the city, and then—supposing a shell did happen to come our way—well——"
"You'd find yourself in the city precious quick, and so have your dearest wish fulfilled in a minute," laughed Alec. "We'd blow up, eh! There'd be a fine old crash on the roofs of Adrianople."
Joking apart, the danger was not likely to be small and the risk run by the crew of the airship was perhaps greater than had been anticipated. But Andrew and his nephew made light of any trouble, and indeed undertook this work with a keenness that did them credit. It followed, therefore, that withina dozen hours the airship floated high up above the besieged city. It was night-time, clouds floated thickly in the sky, while not a light showed aboard the vessel. Down below a few flickering lamps could be seen in the direction of the city, though the greater part was plunged in darkness. But away to the north and south, and on either hand, there were rows and rows of tiny blazing circles, the camp fires of the investors.
"Holding every outlet," said the Major. "Not a man can enter or leave the city. If they could, Charlie would have bade farewell to it long ago. But entrance from the air is another question altogether."
"And you propose to descend to the city?" asked Andrew.
"With your help, certainly. There is a huge mosque in the heart of Adrianople, and that is the place I shall aim for. There, or in the immediate neighbourhood, I shall find Charlie."
"And—and supposing anything should happen to prevent your returning, supposing you were apprehended by the Turks," suggested Andrew.
"Then the airship goes on her way again. It will be a misfortune, of course, but that is all. You have risked all to bring me here, and I shall not grumble if I am discovered."
In the darkness of the engine-room it was impossible to observe the Major's face, but at that moment it was stern and peculiarly determined. For without a shadow of doubt the descent into the city wouldbe exceedingly dangerous. If he were seen by one of the besieged as likely as not he would be shot down on the instant. If not that, then he would be apprehended as a spy, perhaps; and short shrift was given, he knew well enough, to men of that description. But there was not so much as a tremor about him as, an hour later, he stepped upon the platform from which the lift ran, sat himself in the sling by which Commander Jackson had descended to the water on the occasion of Dick's misadventure, and whispered to his friends to let him go.
"Adieu!" he called gently. "Watch for a flare amongst the buildings to-morrow night. If you do not see one, then return again the following night. If still there is no sign, sail on and leave me. Adieu!"
The motor above hummed a low-pitched song, the sling at the end of the rope bearing this gallant officer upon it dropped from the platform and went shooting down under the airship.
"Good luck!" whispered Andrew. "Ah! There goes a very gallant fellow. Now, gently with that tackle. The barometer places us five hundred feet above the city. We shall have to lower very carefully when we have let out four hundred feet of the line."
In the inky darkness of the night the ship had slowly descended till she was suspended at the height mentioned above this besieged city. And now those aboard her slowly paid the rope out over the motor, letting it go foot by foot once they guessed that the burden they were lowering was nearing the ground. Perhaps ten minutes had passed before they foundthat the line hung slack. A pull upon it disclosed the fact that the Major must have left it.
"Haul in!" commanded Andrew. "Now, we will rise again, and sail right away from the city. Let us hope that our plucky friend will be successful."
The following morning found the ship hovering at a great height over a deserted stretch of country, where she lay inert in the air, as if resting after her long trip from England. But that night the motors hummed again, and presently she was back over Adrianople.
"Now, all hands set to work to watch for a flare," Andrew commanded. "We'll divide the city into various portions, and so make sure by giving a different part to each one of us that the Major's signal cannot go undetected."
But though the eyes turned upon the dark surroundings of the beleaguered city never left their object, there was no flare to attract their attention, and presently the first signs of dawn warned Andrew and his comrades that the time had come to depart. A loud detonation in the far distance, and a streaming flame of fire, hastened their decision, and they rose at once and headed away from the city followed by the noise of artillery in action. In fact, a fierce attack had begun upon Adrianople, and though the huge airship put many miles between her and the contending armies, the dull muffled roar of guns still reached them on occasion. But towards evening the battle slackened, and that night, when once more over the city, there was not a sound to disturb the silence;not a note came to the ears of the listeners above to tell them of the armies beneath them.
"Fine and clear, but dark enough for our purpose," said Joe, straining his head over the rail of the observation platform of the vessel. "Let us hope that we shall see the signal this evening, for I confess that I shall be glad to get away from those guns. Did you see the shells bursting as we left in the morning?"
"Guess I did," came Andrew's emphatic answer. "And a nice little mess they'd make of this ship if one hit us."
"Or came within a hundred yards of hitting us," said Joe decidedly. "If a shell were to burst within easy distance, the chances are that the concussion would break the framework and cause the gas to explode. So let's hope we shan't be long in such an unpleasant neighbourhood."
But the night passed again without so much as a flicker from the city. Major Harvey made no sign of his presence. Was he captured, or shot? or had he merely failed to discover Charlie?
"Captured or shot," said Andrew promptly, when they began to discuss the matter. "If he had merely failed to discover his friend he would have sent us a signal, and on returning to us would have made other plans to recover this information. There is no signal. That means that the Major cannot make it. In fact, he is dead, or he is a prisoner."
"While we are left helpless above the city," Joe added. "What's to be done? We'd never think ofleaving the place till we are quite sure what has happened."
"Never," declared Andrew with energy. "Besides, there's another important matter to consider and to keep us here. The Major distinctly told us that Charlie possessed information of vital importance to the British Government. Then we have two reasons for remaining, one being the safety of our friend the Major, and the other being the need to discover Charlie. That seems to me to present unheard-of difficulties. For Charlie is merely a name. We haven't even a description of this officer incarcerated in Adrianople. Come, Commander, help us. This is a real difficulty."
It was more than that. It was a dilemma, for how could Andrew and Joe and his friends help the Major, seeing that they were high in the air? And how could they discover a man in the city of Adrianople of whose appearance they had no knowledge?
"Might be tall or short, broad or thin, dark or fair," said Dick. "It's a conundrum."
"Unless," began Alec.
"Unless what?" Dick snapped.
"Well, unless we were to investigate personally. For instance, this Charlie's an Englishman, eh?"
"Certainly!" cried Andrew.
"Then there aren't enough of our countrymen in the city to make it difficult to pick out our man. He's a soldier, that we know. It isn't so hard as a rule to tell when one looks at one of that profession. As for the Major, if he's alive, why, seeking might find him."
"But—but you forget. We're up here, a thousand feet in the air," cried Andrew testily.
"Quite so, sir," came the respectful answer. "But the Major descended. We could do the same."
"Bravo! It's the only course open," cried the Commander. "Mr. Provost, our duty is clearly before us. We must follow the Major, seek him out, and discover his friend Charlie. Come, I volunteer. It would never do for you or your nephew to make the attempt, for you have this tour to make, and you must be successful. For me it is different. I am in the service of my country; this is a question of duty."
"Hear, hear, sir!" chimed in Dick. "I'd like to come in support. May I?"
"While I suggested the movement and claim a place also," said Alec, with an eagerness foreign to him. "Why not, Mr. Provost?"
Why not? What one man could do, others could also. Besides, how could the crew of this vessel honourably retreat from this beleaguered city and leave a comrade in the lurch, to say nothing of losing something of a secret nature which they had been assured was of vital importance to their country? No—they must stay. They must go to the Major since he could not return to them.
"I agree," said Andrew, after some few moments' consideration. "You three shall be lowered, and to-morrow night we will return and look for your signal. But let me beg of you all to use the utmost discretion. One misfortune is enough without inviting others."
It was perhaps an hour later when three figuresmuffled in short, thick coats stepped upon the lift platform.
"Goodbye!" whispered Andrew and Joe. "A safe return!"
"Au revoir!" sang out Dick, in the seventh heaven of happiness. "Now, hold on, Alec! We don't want you to get tumbling over and so announcing our coming."
Hearty hand-grips were exchanged, and then the motor hummed its tune. The Commander and Dick and Alec sank out of sight and were at once swallowed up in the darkness.