It was a huge, if unkind, joke to watch the twitching face of the magnate, and, as is often enough the way of youth, Dick and Alec enjoyed Carl's discomfiture immensely. But they were near the ship now. Joe sent his biplane higher, till she was two thousand feet above the air vessel. Then he banked, banked till the machine looked as if she would turn turtle. But there was a master man at the controls, and at once the biplane dived downward, curling spirally, with her engine stopped, till she looked as if she would drop through the heart of the ship below her. Then the engine hummed, the propellers revolved, the biplane righted, dived swiftly, rose a yard or two, and then dropped without a quiver on the broad back waiting to receive her.
"Welcome!" said Mr. Andrew Provost, accosting the party, and helping Carl Reitberg to alight. "Welcome to the ship which by your own challenge you yourself helped to erect."
He led him to the lift, escorted him down to the gallery below, and showed him his cabin. In fact, Andrew did all that a host who is a gentleman could do for a guest. He didn't like Mr. Reitberg; he made no pretence of doing so. He was polite as a matter of course, and because it was good manners. But whatever he thought of this stout little magnate, indeed, whether he suspected the true depths of his sporting instincts, Andrew never imagined that hehad just welcomed a crafty ruffian, a schemer, a mean-hearted man who, now that he was safely aboard, would leave no stone unturned till he had wrecked the vessel. As for Carl, he sat himself down by that precious box of his and mopped his forehead.
"I've put up with a heap," he said. "Now my time's coming."
It would be difficult to find anywhere an individual who settles down to new surroundings, to luxury, or to privation so quickly, so easily, and with so little discussion as does your British Tommy or Jack Tar. Given a piece of good cake tobacco, a jack knife, and a pipe, he will, so long as he has a few boon companions, soon have the air humming with his yarns or his songs. In fact, both of these estimable beings are right good fellows. Let us descend, therefore, to the men's quarters aboard the great airship. Lined with sleeping bunks on either side, with huge windows which made it possible to provide the best of ventilation, furnished with electric radiators for use in cold latitudes, or when flying at a great altitude, the part assigned to the men was a paradise compared with the quarters they might have expected. And on the evening after the return of Joe and his party with the stout and nervous magnate, Hurst and Hawkins and their cronies were gathered together, smoking like chimneys and chattering like a cageful of monkeys. As might well be expected also, their superiors in the saloon came in for some discussion.
"I was a talkin' of 'im," reiterated Hawkins, licking his lips, for he had removed his pipe for that particular reason; "of Mr. Alec Jardine; and I says as 'e's the boy fer a sailor. 'E's like Dicky, so 'e is, and Dicky's the properest sailor as ever I set eyes on."
"To which I agrees," exclaimed Private Larkin, Jim Larkin as he was known, no less a person than Major Harvey's soldier servant. "'E's a sailor, 'e is. And p'raps 'ed make a soldier too, fer all I knows. But this here Alec, why, he's got the cut of a soldier, 'e 'as. Don't you deny it."
He was almost ferocious as he addressed himself to Hawkins, and we must admit that one unaccustomed to those in the men's quarters might have even been alarmed. For Private Larkin was not blessed with the most attractive of countenances. To begin with, his head was remarkably big, too big for his body, and most of the head seemed to be composed of a pair of fat, bulging cheeks, above which were a couple of equally bulging eyes which had a most disagreeable habit of fixing upon people, staring them out of countenance, and then of squinting. They were at it now. Hawkins blew fiercely into his pipe.
"Stow that 'ere squintin', shipmate," he growled. "A man ain't never sure what you're lookin' at. Fust it's 'is face. Then it's 'is boots, then it's—it's what not. Now, you nor I ain't likely to agree on that 'ere youngster. You says he'd make a soldier. I says as 'es fair cut out fer a sailor. Let's leave it at that in case we gets to quarrelling. Let's jawabout this here fat little feller, him as the papers called a sportsman."
"Sportsman!" chimed in Hurst in his most scornful tones. "I like that. Sportsmen don't funk when it's a question of flying."
"Then you ain't one," came Hawkins's laughing answer. "Nor you nor me was so precious merry when we were hoisted aboard this here ship; and I stakes my davy neither of us are so eager to go aboard that aeroplane. It ain't every sportsman that has the nerve to fly, so jest you mark it. And every sportsman ain't like this here Mr. Reitberg, him as has an accent jammed up with his words every time he opens his mouth."
"But 'Sportsman''s what the papers called him," said Larkin, scenting here another theme for fierce argument For this merry soldier loved to bandy words, to discuss matters threadbare, while the very meeting with a member of the allied service was sufficient to make him disputatious. If Hawkins said that the visitor who had recently arrived on board was a sportsman, Larkin declared with decision that he was no such thing. His little red, pointed moustache seemed to erect itself towards his eyes, while the latter turned upon Hawkins and Hurst in succession, and then upon the other tars a stare which was positively threatening. "Sportsman! Ho, yes! That's what they called 'im. And what does Sergeant Evans say? What's 'e say, I ask?"
There was no response, for the simple reason thatnone knew. The worthy Sergeant was, indeed, given to keeping his own counsels. None the less Larkin professed to be aware of his opinions.
"Of course, none of you knows," he told them triumphantly. "You wouldn't, for the Sergeant's always kind of suspicious of seafaring folks. Not that I agrees with him there," he added, by way of apology, while Hawkins and Hurst bridled and drew heavily on their pipes. "But it's his way. He keeps quiet when the Navy's round about. Still I know, and I'll tell you. 'E says 'watch 'im'. That's what Sergeant Evans says."
"Ah! Watch 'im?" repeated Hurst thoughtfully. "And why?"
"'Cos 'e's a sportsman. 'Cos it's this here Mr. Reitberg that challenged Mr. Provost to build the airship and sail her round the world; and—what's a sight more than all—'cos he's been and gone and put one hundred thousand pounds—one hundred thousand golden, shining sovereigns—under lock and key, and given the key into someone else's keeping against the day when the ship's cruised round the world and safely returned to England. It was that that caused the papers to describe this here Mr. Reitberg as a sportsman. And it's that very thing that's going to prove as he ain't nothing of the sort. 'Im a sportsman!—with an accent you could cut with a knife, clipping the king's English! 'Watch 'im,' says Sergeant Evans, and that's what I'm doing."
Thereat Jim Larkin stared pugnaciously at his companions, each in turn coming in for a broadside fromthose prominent, squinting eyes of his, while every feature of his face seemed to be working so as to let the company in general know that Jim had a grievance. Then his pipe went to his mouth, a pair of thick lips opened, tilting his fierce red moustache, while the stem was thrust between an uneven row of exceedingly black teeth. It was only when he had contrived to make the pipe draw, and had puffed out a billow of smoke, that Jim's features relaxed. He actually smiled at Hawkins. "And don't you go and get nervous like," he told the tar, in a protecting tone of voice, "'cos there's me aboard, and the Sergeant, to say nothing of that there Alec Jardine, what's fit ter be a soldier. Mind, I ain't sayin' as 'e ain't cut out fer a sailor too. But if a youngster's that, it don't always say as he'd do for a soldier. No. Don't you think it, and as regards that sportsman, don't you and your mate get nervous. As I've said jest now, there's——"
"Stow it," growled Hurst, roused to anger by such patronage. "Why, if I couldn't with this one hand manage that Mr. Reitberg, why——"
He stopped abruptly, his vocabulary being insufficient to express his meaning, while Hawkins, Pierson, Peters, and the others nodded their approval. Nor did they resent less than he the uppishness of Private Larkin. There were covert threats to "show him what". Big, brawny hands doubled up into formidable fists, while the eyes of the tars sought those of the soldier, returning his previous broadsides in a manner there was no denying. Then a broadsmile disarmed them. It was only Jim's fun. The crafty fellow had been merely joking.
"Lor!" he grinned. "It do make a chap smile to pull the legs of you sailors, and it's a treat to meet some of ye and get chatting. But you jest remember what I've said. There's a sportsman aboard. You watch 'im."
As far as they were able the crew of the airship did indeed keep a very watchful eye upon the portly frame of Mr. Carl Reitberg. He never left his cabin to pace the deck but some bare-footed sailor followed, or met him by accident as it were, or made pretence to be on watch, and paced the deck within easy distance. Down below, too, there was the Sergeant. As we have narrated, he claimed an old acquaintance with the magnate, though he was careful to keep that fact to himself, merely repeating his warning to his employers. He even went so far as to inspect Carl Reitberg's baggage, a task of no great difficulty since he acted as valet as well as mess sergeant.
"Any particular wishes, sir?" he asked politely, soon after Carl's arrival on board. "If you will kindly hand me your keys I will unpack and stow your things in the wardrobe."
The lordly magnate handed them over instantly, with a curt nod of approval. He was even pleased to hand the Sergeant a golden coin on his return to the cabin. For his trunk was unpacked and removed to the baggage apartment, while his clothes were laid out in the drawers of the wardrobe.
"Keys, sir," said the Sergeant, handing them to him. "What about this box, sir," and he pointed to the one which had accompanied Carl, and of which he had been so careful. "Shall I take it to the baggage room?"
"Certainly not! Er—no, thank you," exclaimed the magnate promptly, and with some acerbity. "Er—leave it there. It's full of—er—valuables, things I wish to show to Mr. Provost. I had it sealed, and would have brought the things in a safe but for the fact that it would have been so heavy, too heavy for this vessel."
"She'll carry tons and tons, sir," came the respectful answer. "A dozen safes wouldn't make any difference. So I'm to leave the box, sir?"
"Decidedly! Ah! I see that the seals are unbroken. That's satisfactory."
It may have been satisfactory to Mr. Reitberg, but it was anything but that to Sergeant Evans.
"Don't I know his foxy ways, too," he told himself, when ensconced in the privacy of his pantry diligently cleaning silver. "I haven't served with the military police in South Africa without learning something, and there's things I remember. For instance, this Carl Reitberg was someone else out there, and not half so fine and mighty. I.D.B. they called him, which means illicit diamond buyer. And there were other things he was suspected to be, things that people forget when they see him dressed so fine and know that he's as wealthy as they make 'em. I know—foxy! That's him—I'm watching!"
So here was another following the very same plan adopted by the men forward, while, had he but known it, even the redoubtable Dick with his chum Alec had embarked on the same service.
"Of course, Andrew and the others don't believe he's here for anything but a tour," said the former very abruptly, within two days of Carl's arrival. "Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn't. I'm not going to trust to luck, eh, Alec?"
"Certainly not; he's a fishy beggar. We'll take it in turns to dog him."
It followed, therefore, that Mr. Carl Reitberg was a very astonished individual. He had already noticed the close proximity of sailors whenever he trudged the upper deck, a promenade of which he soon became exceedingly fond, for a magnificent view of the country over which the ship was steering could always be obtained. But that proximity he put down to the fact that the men had their orders, and that this being a ship it was only proper that watches should be kept.
"Makes one feel secure and safe when high up," he told himself. "'Pon my word this flying through space is magnificent. I never dreamed I could do more than endure it. As for the aeroplane it is an abominable invention. Never again do I set foot in the machine. Ah, Mr. Dick, I think! Midshipman, I hear. Always up to mischief."
It was part of the magnate's scheme to make himself agreeable to all and sundry, and now, as Mr. Midshipman Dick joined him, he greeted that promising young officer with effusion.
"Sea dog, eh?" he quizzed. "Budding Nelson."
"Budding Nelson be blowed!" was Dick's disrespectful answer, only it wassotto voce. "Sea dog! Listen to the fellow. Makes a chap feel ill. Morning, Mr. Reitberg!" he said aloud. "Having a constitutional?"
"Regular custom," the fat little gentleman told him. "Travelled a lot, don't you know, and have learned how to keep healthy. Come, tell me all about the vessel."
Yes, it tickled the vanity of the magnate immensely to find himself so popular. The guineas which he had distributed amongst the crew caused him to be saluted constantly, a fact on which he preened himself. And now even the youngsters had taken a fancy to him. If Dick were not at his elbow, Alec was there, listening respectfully to his words, pointing out details, laughing uproariously at his stories. But Carl Reitberg did not know that one and all were watching. He never suspectedthat, never suspected that there were those on board by whom he himself was suspected.
"Fine," he told himself in the privacy of his cabin. "Fine—couldn't be better. I'm getting bosom pal all round. Wait till I open that box and show the contents to 'em."
He went across to it and inspected the seals. Yes, they were intact, a huge blob of wax at both ends indented deeply with the vulgar seal which hung upon his own massive frame, from a chain capable almost of holding the airship.
Meanwhile the great airship ploughed her easy path through the limitless leagues of the atmosphere, hardly even trembling as her powerful screw pushed her forward, never wavering in her course, save when the master hand of her inventor or the hand of the watchful steersman willed that she should swerve to one side or the other. There were times, too, when Dick or Alec would take post in the engine-room, and there stand at the levers which controlled the movements of this giant vessel. Never once did the gallant midshipman lose his admiration for this work of art, this massive ship, so huge, so stable, and so strong, and yet so extremely frail in appearance. Never did he cease to wonder at that magnificent vista of almost transparent girders and beams and rods ranging overhead, whenever he cared to crane his neck and stare upward. Nor yet had he ceased to grin and find abundant amusement in the figures of his fellow passengers.
"It's like a peepshow all the time," he told Alec one day with an expansive grin. "One looks upward, as if through a window, and there are the people we know, walking overhead, strutting backwards and forwards for all the world as if they were flies. And one gets to know 'em by the size of their boots, and—er—by other signs. For instance——"
"There's Mr. Andrew," said Alec.
"Sure enough—number one size boots, dapper, very."
"Military walk, smart and alert. White moustache to be seen also, but coloured yellow by the celludinethrough which one sees him. Then there's the Major."
"All there; walks quickly backwards and forwards. You can tell he's a soldier."
"Then there's Hawkins and Hurst and the rest of the men rolling as is the custom with tars. Say, Dicky, why do sailors roll? Is it side only?"
That brought a flush of wrath to the cheeks of the indignant Dicky.
"Side!" he gasped. "Side! You ever saw a sailor suffering from swelled head? Look here, my son, I'll punch yours if you ain't more careful."
But it was all fun. They grimaced at one another and then grinned widely as another figure appeared in the peculiar perspective of men tramping overhead. It was the magnate, the high and mighty Mr. Reitberg, the sportsman who pronounced his words with a very peculiar accent, and who was fond of describing himself as English to the backbone.
"Tell him a mile off," sniffed Dick. "Big, flat feet, rest all corporation. Can't get a glimpse of his ugly phiz for the size of his tummy."
What a joy it was to these two bosom friends to send the ship bounding forward! To stir up the motor gently purring beside them, to rouse it as it were to a gentle fury, for that was one of the points of Joe's handiwork and genius. This paraffin-fired motor of his ran as smoothly as any turbine. You might accelerate it as much as you could, and still it purred, though at its highest speeds the purr had become angry and assertive. Yes, it was a joy toshut close, to bang and bar as it were, the throttle and set the hydraulic pumps into full action. And how the ship responded. She leaped forward, and there had been times when the speedometer mounted in the engine-room told that the vessel was thrusting herself through the air at the incredible speed of two hundred miles an hour. Impossible! we hear some sceptical reader exclaim. Why? But five years ago aeroplanes were spoken of derisively, while their speed seldom exceeded forty miles an hour. To-day they can shoot through the air at a hundred, and the day is fast approaching, thanks to Joe Gresson and others of his kidney, when that speed will be as nothing. Why, then, should this great airship not be able to attain to even double the greatest known speed of an aeroplane? Why, indeed? Her design was all in her favour. There was hardly a projection about her to cause wind friction and delay her passage, while the smooth celludine with which she was coated slid through the atmosphere with an ease that had never been approached before. Add to these points, which all make for speed, engines of the highest efficiency, a transmission of the latest design and purely hydraulic. As carried out on the airship this means of conveying power from the engines to the propeller guaranteed but the merest fractional loss. In fact, what loss there was was negligible. And the propeller itself was one for which aviators would willingly have given a small fortune. But enough of such explanations. We live in a world of marvellous and incredible invention. The armchairsceptic and unbeliever of to-day has his views and scepticism shattered almost before he was finished speaking. The marvels of the Zeppelin, acknowledged to be the last word in airship construction, were now overshadowed and belittled by the wonders of Joe Gresson's invention. The world was raving about the ship. Scientists and inventors in every country were longing to be made familiar with its intricacies.
Steering over the placid surface of the Mediterranean Joe Gresson and his friends hovered over the port of Alexandria, and thence sailed for Cairo. Shrill cries greeted her from the sandy desert about the ancient pyramids, while a motley crowd waved to her from their summits. But there was no time to halt. With one long look at the placid, cruel, yet gentle face of the sphinx the ship's head was swung towards the east. An hour later a long ribbon of blue, shimmering in the sun, and hedged on either side by an unbroken expanse of yellow, told of the great Suez Canal.
"We'll follow it through its length," said Joe, now at the helm. "See! We are seven thousand feet up, and one can perceive a huge portion of the canal, severed here and there by the bitter lakes through which it runs. Ah! There's a ship. Let's drop down close to her."
The vessel plunged. One who was ignorant of her powers would have imagined that she was about to crash to the ground. But she was merely descending at her fastest pace, and plunging brought her withinhailing distance of the ship then passing through the canal, even before Mr. Reitberg had quite recovered his nerve or his equilibrium.
"Himmel!" he shrieked, as the vessel headed downward and shot toward the sand. "Hold her! She is falling! We shall all be killed."
He formed the mad resolution of rushing to the engine-room, and stepped in that direction. But, as we have said, the inclination of the decks considerably upset his equilibrium. The magnate indeed took a header, slithered along the smooth platform beneath the gas chambers, and landed up against one of the partitions with a bang which shook his eyeglass from its holding. By then the vessel was within a hundred feet of the canal, sailing along directly over it, and just ahead of the ship ploughing her way through the water.
What cheers there were! How the passengers on that eastward-bound vessel crowded the decks and shouted! And then the liner hoisted her Union Jack, and dipped it formally. At once the watchful Hawkins responded from the deck above, while again cheers came to the ears of Dick and his friends.
"And just contrast the two ships," said Alec, when they had progressed in this fashion for perhaps an hour. "Look! You can see the airship's reflection in the water, and, my! ain't she a whopper!"
Yes, she was huge, vast, incredibly enormous. And yet how smoothly she sailed along, and with what little effort! It was a fascinating picture to behold. Dick found himself following the giant outline, picking outthe various points till then invisible from the deck above, or from the platforms below. For instance, four huge attachments puzzled him immensely, for they hung from the framework and seemed without purpose.
"All the same they're meant for business," Joe told him, with that quiet, half-cynical smile for which he was notorious. "Oh yes, Dicky, we don't have useless attachments on this ship, unless—ahem! it's amongst the crew. I ain't, of course, referring to midshipmen."
But he was. He was teasing the gallant Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw, and had he been Alec there would have been a rumpus.
"Seriously, though," he went on when he had had his laugh, "they're for landing. You see, it don't do to bump a ship of this description. We want to reach terra firma gently. Now, if you were to jump from a height you'd land on your toes if possible, come down on to your heels, and then bend your knees, all by stages as it were, quickly enough you understand, but offering such graduated resistance that there would be no shock at all. That's what happens with those attachments. Each one is thirty feet in length, and hinged inside the frame of the airship at its upper and forward end. Now, watch us. We'll bump to the ground. How's that?"
It really was remarkable, and so thought the people on board the liner. For Joe's practised hand arrested the engines. The ship came to a standstill. Then she fell as if she were a dead weight, was arrestedwithin twenty feet of the ground merely by touching a single lever, and then descended sharply. But there was no shock. Those four antennæ hinged upward beneath the weight, gradually met it, and then held her firmly suspended. Even the glassware on the saloon table was not shaken.
"And now for a trip on terra firma if only to stretch our legs," cried Joe. "We'll take it by turns, half at a time."
It was singular how everyone fell in with the views of the young inventor; and, in fact, it was to be observed aboard the airship that though there was no recognized captain, no officers, and no regular crew, yet the work aboard progressed with a smoothness which was remarkable. There were rules, naturally enough, and all aboard had been assigned duties. But the simplicity of the whole contrivance, and above all, the efficiency of the engines, called for the smallest attention.
"Merely see that the lubricators are working, and that the fuel feed is right, and things go along merrily," said Andrew, who was becoming quite an engineer.
This opportunity of a trip ashore was seized upon by all in turn, and long walks over the sandhills were indulged in. Then the airship picked up passengers and crew once more, and rising from the sand steered a course east and north, swooping over the deserts of Arabia. All the following night she sped on without a halt, and when the lively Dick again trod the deck he looked down upon the Arabian Sea. But it wasmerely a corner of that vast ocean, for within a few hours the vessel was sweeping over Persia.
"A sparsely inhabited country, and therefore one where we may venture to halt for a while without fear of interruption," said Joe. "Our water supply is running short, and if we are to continue our regular baths every morning we must fill our tanks again."
Whoever heard of an airship carrying baths and water tanks of big capacity? But this one did, and bore the weight as if it were nothing. And the completeness of her equipment was again demonstrated, for, having sighted a huge lake in the heart of Persia, and made sure that there was not a town or a village in sight, Joe dropped the ship directly on the water, setting her elevators to work so gently that they held the giant framework but six feet above the surface.
"Now we drop our pumps, set the motors going, and in a jiffy fill the tanks," he said. "Watch the whole performance."
But there was little to see, though Dick and Alec, ever the most curious of those aboard, strained their necks to watch all that was passing. Two snake-like, flexible metal pipes were passed from the engine-room through apertures specially constructed for the purpose. Then the motor hummed a little louder, while one of the pump attachments was set going; the gurgle of water splashing into the tanks was the only indication that the operation was being performed with success. An hour, indeed, sufficed to replenish their supplies, when the ship shot upward once more tillsome six thousand feet of pure, sun-lit air lay beneath her.
"And now for the north-west frontier of India, where our soldiers are ever on the watch," said Joe. "Come, Major, you feel no nervousness? You have no fears, I hope, lest our gas should run short and land us in the arms of some of those gentry who look upon an Englishman as a dog, to be slaughtered on any and every occasion?"
"You may take me where you will, in chains if you wish," was the smiling response. "After the things that I have seen I have the utmost confidence in both the leader of this expedition and on the ship his hands have constructed. There! I cannot say more."
It may be stated that only one person aboard the airship had a doubt as to her capacity and his own security, and, as may be guessed, that individual was Carl Reitberg. But then he was always nervous for his own skin.
"The north-west!" he gasped, when Joe told him of their immediate destination. "But—but that's where there are always little wars and skirmishes."
"Precisely," observed the Major, with cutting abruptness. "Our best soldiers are bred there. I've had a dose of the north-west myself. Keeps you alive, sir. And if you aren't lively, why——"
"Ahem!" lisped Dick. "You're dead, dead as a herring."
"And you go there?" stuttered the magnate, his face paling, his fat cheeks trembling.
"Certainly!" declared Joe.
"But supposing something happened, supposing——"
"It won't, I hope," came the answer.
"But it might," chimed in Dick, grinning. "Then there'd be a ruction. Say, Mr. Andrew, ain't they fond of torturing folks first?"
It was too bad to tease the wretched and craven Mr. Reitberg. But there was no suppressing Dicky or his boon companion Alec. While in their secret heart of hearts the Major and perhaps Joe and Mr. Andrew were not altogether sorry. Nor did they say much to comfort the unhappy magnate. Indeed, that stout and crafty gentleman was thrown into a violent flutter two days later. For the wireless apparatus aboard suddenly picked up a message.
"Someone calling, sir," reported the operator. "Calling with an apparatus of low power. I can't quite tap the message, though it has been getting stronger."
"Then we're moving towards it; we'll send her ahead. Wonder what it is?" said Joe. "There are few wireless instruments in this part of the world, and those there are belong to the British forces. Report again when you can read the message."
At once the ship was sent ahead at her fastest pace, while the wireless operator returned to his instruments. Nor was it long when he appeared with a report.
"A force of Gurkha soldiers held up in the hills, sir," he told Joe. "Calling for help, but not yet in touch with the instruments of their main party.Urgently require relief. Ammunition almost run out. I told them to expect us."
"Certainly!" cried Joe. "We'll do our utmost to relieve them. Major, kindly see that arms are served to the men. Sergeant Evans has the keys of the magazines."
"But—you will never venture to attack whoever is hemming in these British soldiers," cried Mr. Reitberg, aghast.
"Then you'd let 'em be shot down, eh?" asked Andrew angrily.
"Er—well, how can we help it? It is their own business. Why should we rush into danger?"
The magnate was positively shaking. He could scarcely stand, so violently were his knees knocking. As for Joe, he turned on his heel and went straightway to the engine-room, while the Major hurried off to issue weapons to the men. Andrew regarded his guest grimly, and with difficulty smothered his rising anger.
"Sir," he said with dignity, "those men are British soldiers. This ship is British also. If there is a call for help we take it, whatever the risk. Remember that you yourself owe to our country a debt which a service such as this is will only partially help you to repay. There, sir, if you are nervous retire to your cabin."
But Mr. Reitberg's anxiety would not allow him to do that. He paced the broad deck of the ship a prey to terrible forebodings. Then, driven from the open by the fierce rush of air there, he slid off to his cabin.
"Shall I, now?" he asked himself, as he handled that box with its seals still adhering. "Shall I set the clockwork going and so put a stop to the course these fools are taking? Ah! No! That would not do here. But later. Yes, later I will punish them for incurring this danger."
Love for his own security forbade his taking the rash step he had for the moment contemplated, for the consequences, he reflected, would be disastrous to himself as well as to his fellows. But later; yes, he would open that box; that is, if he were still living. For the ship was plunging furiously onward, and every few minutes the wireless operator telephoned his news of an impending British disaster. There were a thousand dusky natives hemming in but fifty Gurkha soldiers and one British officer. Their ammunition was almost spent. The enemy were within charging distance of them.
"Tell 'em we're coming fast," was Joe's curt answer. "And, Major, just make all ready for action."
"There! At last! Listen!"
The Major held up a hand for silence while he hung out of the window of the gallery running beneath the huge framework of the airship.
"Look! You can see the flashes from the guns of the Pathans," he called. "A circle of them, getting very close too. What's the latest message?"
"Officer hit, sir," reported the wireless operator. "Several men hurt since we were first called up. Ammunition gone completely. They expect to be rushed at any instant, and in any case once night has completely fallen."
"In fact a dangerous if not desperate situation," said Andrew, his voice anxious. "Now, what do we do? I am prepared to make any sacrifice that may be necessary. But wait; could we not direct our searchlights on the enemy and so scare them away? They are sure to be ignorant savages, and a beam from above might very well throw them into a panic."
But Major Harvey shook his head decidedly, though one could not see the movement, for all lights aboard the ship had been switched off. Outside there wasdarkness, getting more intense every minute, while, as the Major had informed them, one could detect flashes spurting from a hundred points in a circle, while the rattle of musketry came faintly to the ear. The position of the dusky enemy was, in fact, clearly outlined by those flashes, and looking downward Dick could imagine the position of the gallant little band of Gurkhas stationed somewhere in the centre awaiting the rush of the enemy.
"With bayonets ready fixed," he told himself. "But it'd be short work in the darkness. Those Pathans would creep in—are creeping in even now—and outnumber our fellows by twenty to one. Yes, this is a tough little business."
It was obvious that the Major viewed it in a similar light, while he was emphatic in his reply to Andrew.
"Might scare 'em a trifle at first with your lights," he told him shortly. "But, bless you, these Pathans aren't so uneducated as you imagine. They've lived so long within call of the British that they keep in touch with big movements. The many friends they send down into the plains to loot rifles return with tales of what they've seen, with news of what they've heard in the bazaars and hovels they've frequented. So they've seen motor cars for a certainty, and possibly a solitary aeroplane. In any case they know the sahib can rise into the air and stay there. That's why their astonishment won't easily be turned to alarm. But if there were daylight the size of this ship alone might send 'em skeedadling. No, Mr. Andrew, we've got to do something active."
"At your service. In what way, Major? Mention it and you will have our support."
"Then ammunition's wanted; so's an officer."
"And you suggest——?"
"With your approval I propose to descend to our troops, taking ammunition with me. You have service rifles aboard and have an abundant store of cartridges. Then lower a few cases as rapidly as you are able."
Andrew was not the one at such a time to stand chattering, while had he been one of undecided mind Joe would have given an order promptly. Fortunately both uncle and nephew were alike in that respect, and at once assented to the Major's proposal. A low call, indeed, brought Hawkins and Hurst and a few of the others hurrying forward, with Sergeant Evans and Private Larkin in close attendance.
"I've roused half a dozen cases of ammunition already, sir," reported the Sergeant. "They're being carried at this moment toward the lift."
"Good!" cried the Major. "Then there need be no delay. Now, Mr. Andrew, if your nephew will kindly locate our friends below, so that I may be dropped directly toward them, we will soon bring a change to this situation. And once I have landed, a searchlight turned upon the enemy will be of great advantage. I need not ask you to be cautious not to turn the beams on the little party I hope to have the honour of commanding within a few minutes."
Brisk and abrupt as became a soldier about to undertake a hazardous expedition, the Major at oncestepped toward the lift. Joe himself made for the engine room, and within a minute a dazzling beam was flooding the landscape below, not the ordinary beam that one would have expected, but a cunning circle of rays controlled by a lamp of Joe's own invention. In fact he had merely taken the precaution to place a black disk in the centre of the enormous reflector of the lamp, so that the central beams were almost entirely occluded. Staring down from the airship, her crew and passengers found that they were above a mountainous district. Huge rocks and pinnacles cropped up from a plateau which was barren and strewn with boulders, while the general trend of the ground was steeply downward, from the point immediately beneath the vessel. It was there, gathered in a circle surrounded by rocks, that the feeble central rays, the few which had managed to escape the obliterating disk, fell upon some sprawling figures.
"The Gurkhas," cried Dick. "Look at 'em waving. And see the enemy!"
The latter were easily visible, and it made Dick catch his breath when he observed that some were within two hundred yards perhaps of that little central group. Creeping forms were half hidden behind rocks. Others were worming a way across open ground, while, as the beams played upon them, not a few of the dusky enemy stood upright and waved their arms and shouted. Indeed, some turned tail and ran. Then loud commands recalled them, while one figure erected itself, a figure swathed in flowing garments, arms were tossed overhead, and those inthe airship could hear a stentorian voice haranguing the men.
"Listen!" cried the Major. "Ah! 'My brethren,' he calls to them, 'my brethren, be not fearful of the white light which shines from the sky. It is not magic. It is merely the lamp from the balloon of the infidel. What harm may a lamp do then to the faithful? How can it come between us and these Gurkha dogs whom we have been seeking this many a day? Then cease to take note of it. Fear not, but push forward, for their ammunition is exhausted. Now, I myself will lead the rush.'
"What's our height?" asked the Major abruptly.
"A thousand feet," suggested Dick.
"No, six hundred," Joe corrected him from the entrance to the engine-room.
"Then lower me to our fellows, then ascend out of range of shot. Many of those Pathans are armed with modern rifles and could riddle the ship. Now, sir, I am ready."
"So am I," cried Dick, taking his place on the platform of the lift, where the ammunition cases had already been placed.
"And I also," chimed in Alec, joining him.
"But——" began Andrew.
"Let 'em come," said the Major. "It'll be a fine experience for them. But you know the risks, lads."
Dick grinned. He had a way of doing that when excited. Alec merely slung his rifle across his shoulders and gripped the supporting cable.
"Lower away then," cried Andrew. "Now!"
The motor hummed that cheerful refrain to which all had now become accustomed. The platform sank from the gallery gently at first, and then fell rapidly. And as it went, the rays of the lamp were shut off completely. But a few moments later, when the telephone bell sounded and the Major's voice was heard, the beams again swamped the underlying landscape, showing the lift but a few feet above the group of Gurkhas. "Lower," they heard from the Major.
"Grounded, and as gently as possible," said Joe. "Ah! They've taken the cases off. Now, up she comes. Send the ship upward; and, Hawkins."
"Sir," that worthy responded, saluting in nautical fashion.
"Put the men at the windows of the gallery and let 'em fire down upon the enemy. Sergeant Evans, you'll see that there's ammunition."
There was at once brisk movement aboard the ship, while down below the patter of rifle shots had already come from the central group of soldiers. Indeed, those ammunition cases were already opened, and within a minute of the Major's arrival the Gurkhas had all received a supply of cartridges.
"I'll post myself in the centre," the Major told Dick and Alec swiftly. "You, Dick, take command of the men on the upper face. That's the point from which the rush is likely to come, for that's where their chief is stationed. Alec, take the lower slope, and look out for crawling rascals. Ah! They've opened from the ship, and some of the Pathans are replying."
Bullets indeed were hissing upward, and twice Joeflinched as a missile hit the celludine sides of his pet airship.
"It'll—it'll bring us down, won't it?" gasped Andrew, though he showed no signs of terror.
"Not it," came the reassuring answer. "We shall lose a little gas perhaps, for those bullets make but the smallest opening. It would require a shell to do great damage. Even then, don't forget that there are quite a number of compartments. Wish to goodness I had brought bombs aboard the ship. A few dropped on the heads of the enemy would send 'em scuttling."
The need for such inventions was beneath the ship without a doubt, for the circling beam of light showed that the Marconi operator had made no error when he reported that there were a thousand Pathans hemming in the Gurkha soldiers. Indeed, every little rock seemed to shelter a recumbent figure, while rifles could be seen protruding from a hundred crevices. Moreover, the arrival of the ship had stirred the enemy to greater exertions, while the fact that ammunition had now reached the defenders of the central position roused them to fury. The loud crackle of musketry from the ship also helped not a little to force the Pathans to complete their task at once or slink away into the darkness.
"Massing up above me, sir," Dick reported coolly, when the Major crept across to the post he had taken some few minutes later. "I've seen that chief of theirs twice and tried to pot him. But he's artful. He and his men are closer. They'd have been hereby now but for the light which shows their positions. The Gurkhas ain't wasting many shots either."
In the half-light playing over the defenders it was possible to see the short, sturdy forms of the native soldiers, those hillmen who have fought so often side by side with their white comrades. They lay in a circle, each man behind cover, with magazines crammed in preparation for the moment when the enemy would charge. Slowly and deliberately they were shooting cartridges from their pouches into the breeches of their weapons, and every half-second there was a sharp report, and often enough an answering shriek from the enemy.
Ah! Suddenly that tall figure clad in flowing raiment stood erect, while the chief waved a rifle over his head. Instantly a dozen weapons held by the Gurkhas covered him, and Dick himself swung his own rifle to his shoulder. But the figure dropped out of sight promptly, only to appear a minute later some fifteen feet to the right. It was a broad-bladed tulwar which the beams from above them showed him to be waving. A loud shout escaped him, and instantly, as if it were a signal, as undoubtedly it was, the Pathans became silent. Not one drew trigger. Then the clear, ringing voice of the chief was heard once more.
"Telling 'em to make ready," said the Major crisply. "Listen! This is what he says. I know their lingo and so can translate. 'Brethren, the hour has come to end this little matter. If we delay, then the infidel will prove too strong for us. Drop,then, your rifles and firearms. Take to your knives, and when I shout once more rush in upon the accursed infidel.'"
"Got him!" declared Dick a second later. "Hate shooting a fellow in the open, but then, it's he or us. Eh, sir?"
"Quite right! A good shot and a plucky one," cried the Major. "You risked getting a bullet from the enemy. That shot of yours will quieten them for a few moments. But it won't stop the rush. Every man in a tribe such as this is capable of leading his fellows. Yes; watch closely, and you, men," he went on, turning to the Gurkhas, and speaking in their own language, "obey the officer here. The enemy will rush at any moment. As they come, pour volleys into them, then stand shoulder to shoulder and give them the bayonet."
A hoarse cheer came from the sturdy Gurkhas, a cheer answered by Hawkins and Hurst and his fellows overhead.
"There's me and Larkin and few more of the boys as would give summat to be down there a waitin' for them 'eathen," said the former, growling the words into Joe's ear. "Me and some of my mates 'd give a heap to be alongside of them 'ere Gurkha fellers, a standin' with bayonets fixed. Lor, sir, see them Pathan villains! If they ain't all crawling and crawling towards one corner."
From the gallery of the airship it was possible to see everything, and with a twinge of apprehension Joe discerned perhaps five hundred figures now.They were leaving hollows and cover from all directions, and were creeping and worming their way towards one quarter, the point from which their chief had called to them.
"Very serious," he told himself. "They're massing for a charge. I'll drop the ship closer and chance more of their bullets, though for the last few minutes they have left us alone. Ah! Sergeant Evans, what do you advise?"
"Send the ship a trifle closer, sir," came the prompt answer. "Get directly over those varmint. Then—then leave 'em to me. I've prepared something for 'em, something that'll blow a few of 'em back into their own passes."
"A bomb?" asked Joe, dumbfounded, for as he had said, he had brought nothing of the sort aboard with him. Indeed, firearms and weapons of offence generally were not of great interest to him. His was the subtle mind which gripped larger affairs, affairs such as this airship, and her simple yet extremely efficient equipment. But if he were ignorant of weapons, cartridges, and bombs, Sergeant Evans had at least some acquaintance with such matters.
"Thought we'd likely enough want something of the sort, sir," he said. "So I've got 'em ready. Move the ship directly over 'em, sir. Quick, too, or they'll be starting to rush, and then nothing will hold them. There! See them Gurkhas! The Major's drawing them all close together, so it's clear that he's seen what's passing."
The unusual opportunities that the light playingupon the surroundings of the Gurkhas gave offered opportunities to the gallant Major which otherwise would have been missing. Indeed, the paucity of numbers of the little British force was in a measure compensated for by the darkness which hung over them, and by the brilliant light surrounding their enemy. Had there been no cover there, save in the centre, no doubt that spreading light would have enabled the Major quickly to send the Pathans scuttling. But the ground was strewn with rocks, rocks which offered first-class cover, and even gave protection against bullets fired from the airship. Not that Hawkins and his comrades missed their chances. Many a crawling enemy did they locate, and many a Pathan did they cause to bite the dust. But they could not stop that concentrating movement no more than could the Gurkhas; and presently, peeping from behind the rock which sheltered him, Dick made out a mass of human beings to his front, every rock and crevice seeming to hold a figure.
Suddenly a man stood to his full height, careless of the weapons wielded by the Gurkhas. Two arms waved frantically above his head, while there was the gleam of steel flashing in the rays of the electric light pouring down upon them.
"The hour is here; Allah bids us advance. To those who fall, there is happiness and glory in the long future. Charge!"
He was a brave man, and at any other time Dick would willingly have seen him spared. But he was a leader, and, as such, of danger to this little party.It was, therefore, with a sigh of relief that he saw the man's figure suddenly straighten. The chief leaned backward, his arms widespread, his tulwar dangling from one wrist Then, with a shriek, he leaped forward, crumpled up in midair, and fell heavily upon a boulder.
"But another will take his place," whispered the Major. "Dick, this is even hotter than I had anticipated. I was rash to let you and Alec come. For me, it is merely a matter of duty, for an officer was wanted badly. For you, it is a different matter, and if anything happens——"
"It'll be duty for me too, sir," answered the midshipman coolly. "I'm an officer too, sir, don't forget that. Besides, we ain't dead yet. A long way from it."
That was Mr. Dicky Hamshaw all over. His cheerful optimism was catching. It was just the thing for which his tars adored him.
"If that ain't Mr. Dicky there a-standin' out in the open!" shouted Hurst at that very moment, catching sight of the familiar figure of the young sailor as the lamp above swayed and swept a few scattered beams over the Gurkhas. "He's a-shakin' 'is fist at the 'eathen, and he's a-standin' in the open. Get under cover there, sir," he bawled loudly through the window of the gallery, while Hawkins and the others stared anxiously down at their middy.
"And there's Mister Alec, 'im as is too good for a sailor," chimed in Private Larkin, though the effort at humour at that moment cost him something."Blest if he ain't a-standing alongside of that 'ere Dicky, a-talkin' to him as cool as a gineral."
"Stop talking, men, please," came from Joe, in anxious tones. "Now is the time to pepper the enemy, for I fear that they are about to charge. Yes. Look! Another rascal has risen to lead them."
The crackle of musketry from the grouped figures of the Gurkhas told plainly enough that the time for trial was upon them, while if Joe and the crew of the airship had a doubt, the lamp soon convinced them. That slow, careful movement of concentration was now completed. Perhaps five hundred of the enemy were gathered in one quarter, and but two hundred yards separated them from the Major and his command. And a third leader had suddenly put in an appearance. The Gurkhas could not see him, though Joe and Andrew could. For he was behind an enormous piece of rock, where he was busily haranguing his fellows.
"And a-callin' of 'em to 'ack Mr. Dicky Hamshaw to pieces," growled Hawkins, adjusting his sights on the figure. "This 'ere's for an 'eathen—a black-'earted 'eathen!"
His weapon snapped, there was a loud thud as the bullet struck the rock behind which the chief was standing, and then a shout from Mr. Andrew.
"They're off! They're charging!" he cried.
"Make way! Now, drop her a trifle, sir," called Sergeant Evans, who had posted himself at one of the windows. "That will do. Stop her. Now watch."
He tossed something from the airship and craned his head as far as was possible. As for Hawkins and the rest of the crew, they fired madly down upon the enemy. For those five hundred figures, partly hidden some few seconds earlier, were now in the open. They were rushing together across the two hundred yards of barren ground which alone separated them from the forlorn Gurkhas. In half-dozens, in clusters of ten and more, in ones and twos and threes, with streaming banners, with waving arms and whirling knives and tulwars, they were descending upon Dick and his gallant comrades as a whirlwind, a human avalanche which would overwhelm them. It made Andrew positively ill with fear of the consequences. He shut his eyes tightly and gripped the frame of the window. As for Joe, he darted towards the engine-room, with the mad, half-formed idea of sending the ship plunging downward, charging that charging host, in fact. Even Hawkins forgot to use his weapon any longer. Sergeant Evans alone retained perfect coolness.
"Another second," he shouted to them, "one little second, and then——" The answer came before he had finished speaking. The head of that charging column was suddenly enveloped in a blinding flash, a flash the brilliance of which dimmed the rays from the ship's lamp. Those whirling Pathans melted, as it were, were swept aside, were blown out of sight by a terrific explosion. Even those in the airship above felt a portion of the concussion, while the vast ship itself trembled and swayed ominously.
"What is that? We are hit with a shell! We are falling!"
The stout figure of Carl Reitberg appeared at his cabin door, clutching at it convulsively. But not one took the smallest notice of him, save Andrew, who turned and bade him curtly to be silent.
"A few feet ahead, sir," called Sergeant Evans. "Now, that'll stop 'em."
Once more he leaned from the window of the gallery and tossed something into space. And again there were some seconds' anxious waiting. Then there came a mighty explosion, more forcible than the first—a concussion and blast of flame and gas which shot the ship upward. Down below it brought havoc to the Pathans, for it fell almost in the centre of that still-charging host, sweeping perhaps a hundred out of existence. Howls resounded on every side, while the rays streaming down upon this battlefield showed dusky figures scuttling away in all directions. And then came cheers, hoarse cheers of relief from the Gurkhas, while Hawkins and his comrades made the night hideous with their shouting. Indeed, for perhaps five minutes the noise continued, while occasionally a shot rang out as a Gurkha sighted some crawling figure. Then Joe manœuvred the ship over the spot which the Major had been holding, and let her settle gently.
"Now for food for the men and more ammunition, beside help for the wounded," he said. "Let's bustle."
The following morning found their work completed; while, as the ship rose once more, she sighteda relieving column within a mile of the little force to whose aid they had come on the previous evening. It was clear, in fact, that there was no longer need for delay, and therefore the airship was headed eastward. Nor had Joe Gresson been idle in the meanwhile. He had repaired the few holes in the envelope of the vessel, and had set his gas producer in action, thereby replenishing losses. And now he steered for the heart of India, for Delhi, in fact, where he proposed to restock his larders. Two days later found the party hovering over that ancient and historic city, while that same evening the huge airship lay resting tranquilly outside the fortifications, within sight of the famous ridge of Delhi, a vast multitude gazing on her.
Doors in that long gallery were thrown open, officers and high officials, both British and native, thronged the ship, while even ladies partook of Andrew's hospitality. Indeed there was a merry party in the saloon, while Dicky Hamshaw was conducting an admiring party over the vessel. Only one individual was missing. It was Mr. Carl Reitberg, at that moment skulking in his cabin.
"At last," he was chuckling, as he rubbed his hands together, and gently prised open that curious box of his. "At last the time has come to teach these people a lesson. A little caution, a little watching, and then the ship flies in pieces. Of course, it'll be sad for the men. I've no grudge against 'em. But then, how can I help killing a few? The destruction of the ship is all-important. Yes, a little cunningand I shall lay the bombs, set the clockwork in motion, and go. Who is to say that it was not due to a dreadful accident?"
The man's face was positively hideous in its cunning. Those aboard the airship were indeed face to face with a crisis.
A motley crowd thronged the narrow streets of the old city of Delhi, that city to which for so many years the eyes of the natives of India had ever been turned, the same quaint, battlemented stronghold which had seen those mutineers arrive flushed with the success of their first massacres of sahibs and mem-sahibs and children, had witnessed the struggle of sepoys to overthrow the British Raj.
A noisy crowd of gesticulating people, as dusky almost as ebony, some resplendent in many-coloured robes and turbans, others, the coolies, clad in but the lightest raiment, bargained at the numerous booths, or sat on their haunches in the sun, basking in the heat, smoking their hubble-bubbles. Now and again a sowar passed, mounted on his wiry animal, as fine a soldier as this jewel in England's glorious crown could well produce. Then came a Gurkha maybe, though very few were to be found in the neighbourhood of Delhi; a tall Sikh followed, his dark eyes glowing beneath his huge and picturesque turban. In short, a motley crowd, a crowd of surpassing interest, wended its way hither and thither,some about their ordinary business, some on shopping bent, others merely idling, trusting to meet chance acquaintances when they could forgather in some quiet corner and chatter about the huge airship.
"Ripping!" declared Alec, when he and Dick had looked on at the throng for perhaps an hour, and had strolled through a number of streets. "It's quite the most interesting thing I have ever seen. Look! There are English people mixed up with the natives."
There was every nationality one could imagine almost. Slim, sly men from the hills, in the neighbourhood of the North-West, a couple of Afghan merchants but recently arrived by way of the Khyber Pass, a Parsee banker, a native clerk, a postman of dusky colour. Then a group of chattering women, a bevy of girls from the nearest school, clad in garments very similar to those worn by their European sisters. And later a gorgeously-caparisoned elephant, with some native prince in the howdah. A band sounded in the distance, and presently a British regiment swung by, the natives on either side salaaming to the colours, which Dick saluted in naval style. Nor were our two young friends the least interesting of the people bustling about the streets of Delhi. A couple of clean, jolly, well-set-up young Englishmen they looked, their white drill suits and topees suiting them admirably. But there were others of interest also. Three sailors swung by, barging through the crowd with that curious roll so common to men of the sea. Need we say that they were Hawkins,Hurst, and Pierson, with the cantankerous and unlovely Private Larkin in close attendance? And didn't they take good care to salute our two young friends!
"It's him!" growled Hawkins fiercely in Private Larkin's ear when he caught sight of Dick and Alec. "Now then, all together, and mind there ain't no skulking."
"'Oo's a skulking, I'd like to know?" came in grumbling tones from the soldier even in the midst of a fierce salute. "One would think as you naval chaps was the only ones as could do a job of this sort nice and handy! 'Sides, I'm salutin' Mr. Alec, 'im as is fit ter be a soldier, and will be. I ain't no doubt as he'll pass the Navy. It ain't in his line, yer see. Too much red tape and pipeclay for 'is liking."
It was another effort on the part of this pleasant individual to get up a fierce argument, and had the men been gathered in their quarters aboard the airship no doubt Hawkins would have obliged him. But there was too much to be seen on every hand, and therefore, with a growling "Come along, you," he led the way past our heroes and down the bazaar.
"Hallo! Mr. Carl Reitberg of all people! Thought he was abed, quite done up after that little affair of ours on the north-west frontier," exclaimed Dick, some few minutes later. "The high and mighty Carl Reitberg seated in a gharri careering about the streets of Delhi. Look at him shouting because the crowd don't move aside soon enough for his majesty. And where is he going?"
"Which reminds me that we haven't kept up that watch since we came to Delhi," said Alec. "Think he's up to any games?"
How could one answer that question? No doubt the magnate had his own business to transact, and indeed, halted at a bank and entered. When he emerged Dick saw that he was tucking a well-filled purse into his pocket. He struggled into his cab, mopped his forehead with a handkerchief of brilliant hue, and then gave directions to the driver.
"Vote we follow," cried Dick. "I don't like our guest's face, to be quite frank with you. What's he drawing money for? Where's he going?"
"Might just as well expect other folks to be asking the same question about us. But we'll follow. Here, out of the way, you son of a gun. Hi! Gharri!"
Alec displaced the dusky individual who barred his path, and waved frantically to a cabman. A minute later the two were seated in the gharri, which at once set out in pursuit of the one that Carl Reitberg had taken.
"Booking office of the railway," said Dick, ten minutes later, seeing Carl descend and enter an office so labelled. "Had enough of the airship it seems, and will make the trip to the coast by train. But that's queer, ain't it?"
"What's queer? Why? How?" asked Alec in a breath.
"Don't be a donkey! Carl Reitberg's queer."
"Ill? He don't look it. Seems to be he's very much alive-o!"
Dick turned an indignant, not to say angry glance upon his companion.
"You are thick!" he said bluntly. "I wasn't referring to the health of our estimable friend. I was referring to his actions. They're queer, ain't they?"
"No—why? Why shouldn't he return by train and steamer if he wishes to do so?"
"Because at breakfast this morning he told us all how he was enjoying the trip. Pretended even to have been charmed with our little brush with those Pathans. Said nothing would induce him to part with the airship till she had landed him in England."
"My! Yes. Greasy beggar," reflected Alec. "What's it mean? Playing double. But perhaps he ain't booking. Look here, I'll hop in and listen to what's passing."
Mr. Carl Reitberg was without a doubt booking a seat for Bombay. Alec squeezed himself through the throng of Europeans in the booking office, and managed to reach a spot just behind the magnate. There he heard him enquiring for the next ship sailing from Bombay, and watched as he booked a cabin.
"You're right; it's mighty queer," he told Dick on returning. "What does it mean?"
"Everything, perhaps; perhaps nothing. He's foxy, and means to clear out, that's plain. But it don't say that he means us or the ship a mischief. Not that I'd trust him. Sergeant Evans is full ofdark hints, and could tell us a yarn, I'm sure, if we encouraged him. I'm going to set a watch on Mr. Reitberg."
"Those beggarly brats," reflected the magnate, ten minutes later, when he emerged from the office and saw a gharri passing with our two young friends aboard. "Sight-seeing, I suppose. Well, they've not seen me buying my ticket. No one has. I've thrown dust in their eyes nicely. Now I can return to the ship, wait my chance, and then——"
It made him chuckle. He sat back in the gharri smiling and perspiring, mopping his forehead from time to time. And it was with a wonderfully elastic step that he strode from the gharri to the airship, roughly pushing aside the throng of natives and entered the gallery.
"It'll be a big affair," he told himself with a grim smile. "Of course, as I've said before, I'm sorry about the crew. But that's their lookout. A hundred or more of these natives blown to pieces will make not the smallest difference. Dinner-time to-night'll suit admirably. Then we're all aboard. The men'll be in their quarters, with perhaps one patrolling on the deck above, and two outside, to keep the curious natives at a distance. I'll be late for dinner; yes, that's the card to play. I send my compliments to Mr. Andrew, and beg to be excused as the heat has upset me. Excellent! A splendid excuse. Then, when all's quiet, I set the bombs in position, creep out of the ship, and while Delhi is lamenting the terrible catastrophe, and thousands are chattering,I simply board the train and take the road for England."
He sat down in his cabin to mop his forehead again, and then took off his coat and waistcoat. "Come in," he cried testily, to a knock at the door.
It was Sergeant Evans, respectful and polite as ever. "Dinner half an hour later this evening, sir," he said. "I'll put your things out now, so as not to disturb you later."
"Terribly hot," gasped Carl. "Hardly feel as if I could eat anything. Shouldn't wonder if I didn't turn up for dinner, Sergeant."
Like the well-trained, polite fellow he was the Sergeant expressed no surprise. He merely touched the button which controlled the electric fan and set it going.
"Hot in here, sir," he said. "That'll make things cooler. Hope you'll feel better presently. Half-past six now, sir. Perhaps a little sleep would put you right, and make you ready for dinner."
"Perhaps," agreed Carl laconically, mopping his forehead again. "I'll try. But don't disturb me. If I don't turn up after the gong has gone, leave me to myself. I'll be sleeping."
The face of the Sergeant was inscrutable as he left the cabin. If it said anything at all, it expressed commiseration for this somewhat stout and unwieldy sportsman, and the hope that he would soon feel more himself. But if his features meant that, his immediately following actions contrasted curiously with them. For the worthy Sergeant passed into his ownquarters, and from thence into his pantry. And by a curious freak of fortune that pantry happened to be immediately next to the cabin occupied by the worthy Carl Reitberg.
"Don't I know him? Oh no! Certainly not!" observed the Sergeant beneath his breath. "Mr. Carl Reitberg, yes, that's his name now; I.D.B. back in South Africa in the old days. He's feeling queer, and he don't expect he'll come along to dinner. Well, we'll hope he will. But we'll see what's happening in the meanwhile."
So straightway he crept to the wall of the pantry, and slid aside a tiny panel, some two inches long, and of half that height. It was quite a simple contrivance, and had merely required a sharp knife and a slip of sheet celludine. A hot iron had cemented the runners of this slide to the wall, while anyone entering either the pantry or the adjacent cabin would have found it difficult to detect this opening. An inch-square aperture gave a wide view of the quarters allotted to the magnate, and of that individual himself.
"Felt ill, did he? Poor chap!" observed the Sergeant. "Thought he'd follow my advice and have a sleep. Looks like trying, don't he?"
The fat form of the magnate was engaged at that precise moment in anything but an attempt to fall asleep. He was leaning over that precious box which he had brought aboard with him, and which he would have others believe contained valuables of great interest. The seals were broken already, and half adozen of the screws with which the lid was secured were already drawn. The magnate was puffing heavily in his efforts to loosen one which was strangely tight and refractory. At length, however, after a fierce struggle, he succeeded, and some ten minutes later had the box open.