The Great Airship Part 24

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 that none 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 from those 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 broad smile 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 d.i.c.k 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 s.p.a.ce 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. d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k joined him, he greeted that promising young officer with effusion.

"Sea dog, eh?" he quizzed. "Budding Nelson."

"Budding Nelson be blowed!" was d.i.c.k's disrespectful answer, only it was _sotto voce_. "Sea dog! Listen to the fellow. Makes a chap feel ill.

Morning, Mr. Reitberg!" he said aloud. "Having a const.i.tutional?"

"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 d.i.c.k 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 suspected _that_, 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 ma.s.sive 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 d.i.c.k 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 ma.s.sive 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 amus.e.m.e.nt in the figures of his fellow pa.s.sengers.

"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 celludine through 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, d.i.c.ky, why do sailors roll? Is it side only?"

That brought a flush of wrath to the cheeks of the indignant d.i.c.ky.

"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 p.r.o.nounced 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 d.i.c.k. "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 a.s.sertive. Yes, it was a joy to shut 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 pa.s.sage, 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 armchair sceptic 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 Ca.n.a.l.