CHAPTER XXII
FIRE AT SEA
“Well, Dave, they stole a march on us last night.”
“How is that, Hiram?” questioned the young aviator.
“Landed. Yes, sir, the _Albatross_ made a landing about midnight on thebeach of some island—Bermuda or Bahama, or something like that. Lastpoint of land this side of Europe, the professor says. Took on a freshsupply of water. Mr. King visited the town nearby and got some papers,and sent a message to the aero association.”
Hiram had just come from the cabin, preceding his comrade in waking upby a few minutes. When the two friends went to the cabin they foundyoung Brackett waiting to take breakfast with them.
A few days had made a marked change in the new passenger of the_Albatross_. Everybody was pleasant and encouraging to him. He hadbecome greatly interested in the workings of the airship. Dave hadsuggested to him that, owing to the fact that his father was a foremostmanufacturer in the aeroplane line, he had a splendid opportunity tobegin business life in the same field.
The _Albatross_ had started out on its real voyage in fine shape,weather conditions being perfect. So far, except for the adventure amongthe mountain men of North Carolina, not one adverse incident had marredthe flight.
The three friends chatted and joked buoyantly while dispatching theirappetizing meal. Young Brackett had picked up one of the newspapersbrought to the airship from the island just after midnight. He waslooking it over casually, when he uttered a quick cry as of startledamazement.
“It’s not true!” he almost shouted, and he brought his fist down uponthe table to emphasize the remark with such force that the dishesrattled.
“What’s not true, Brackett?” inquired the young aviator, in somesurprise.
“Listen!” called out the lad in considerable excitement, and then heread from the newspaper:
“Another red, white and blue float was picked up three hundred milesfrom land by the steamer _Royale_. It proved to contain a dispatch withthe readings: ‘Aug. 21, altitude one thousand feet, course due east,making splendid time. Airship _Dictator_: Signed, Roger Davidson, PerryDawson, on board.’”
“That sounds like business,” exclaimed Hiram. “The twenty-first. That’sthe day we started. They were forty-eight hours ahead of us.”
“Not true!” again declared young Brackett, sharply.
“You mean?” asked Dave, in wonder.
“Davidson and Dawson are not aboard of the _Dictator_.”
“Oh, pshaw, now how can you say that,” challenged the impetuous Hiram,“when here is the clear evidence?”
“You seem to know something we don’t know,” remarked Dave, with a closeglance at Brackett. “The public prints announced that Davidson andDawson started with the _Dictator_ on the trip across the Atlantic onthe afternoon of the nineteenth.”
“They did,” nodded Brackett. “I saw them. But they came back.”
“What’s that?” cried Hiram.
“Yes, they did.”
“In the _Dictator_?”
“Oh, no, and that’s the queer part of it. They may have lost theirnerve—it looks that way. They may have hired someone else to take therisk of the trip. Anyhow, they got out of the _Dictator_ after leavingSenca, and came back there at midnight. I slept that night in the placewhere they had built the _Dictator_. I saw them come, I saw them goaway.”
“Brackett, you astonish me,” said Dave, bluntly. “Are you sure of whatyou say?”
“Perfectly,” declared the lad, with positiveness. “Davidson and Dawsoncame secretly to the old aerodrome. They had a big automobile, andloaded into it a long box. Both were disguised, and I recognized themonly by their voices. I heard them speak of getting to the steamer. Howto explain these dispatches, apparently dropped from the _Dictator_ intothe ocean, I don’t know. I’ve only told you what I do know.”
“Mr. King must know of this,” said Dave, thoughtfully.
No plausible solution of the tangle was arrived at, however. Amid thesheer exhilaration and activity of their own superb flight, the crew ofthe _Albatross_ soon forgot the incident surrounding the rival airshipwith new mystery.
For two days and nights the giant airship made an even, steady run, trueas a needle to a set course. There was a slight mist over the waters thenext evening. So fair and promising was the weather, that ProfessorLeblance had deviated from the route he had first laid out. He had madean aerial short cut. The result was that they were somewhat out of theregular path of ocean travelers.
It was always a pleasure for the boys to watch out nights for thesteamers far beneath them. That night, Grimshaw, seated at one of thewindows, remarked in his usual laconic way:
“Light ahoy!”
“Where away?” chirped the active Hiram, who was priding himself onbecoming quite nautical.
“Just ahead, somewhat to the southeast.”
“I see it,” said the young aviator.
“So do I,” joined in Hiram. “Why, say,” he added, excitedly a minute ortwo later, “that’s no light. It’s a fire.”
As they progressed and the radiance became plainer, all hands decidedthat Hiram was right. Nearer and nearer they came to the growing light.Flames became visible, then the fire fringed the outlines of hull andrigging.
Dave ran to the pilot room and quickly advised Mr. King of thecircumstance. Professor Leblance was summoned from the engine room.
“Slow down and focus the searchlight on the ship,” he ordered.
This was done. It was a vivid and exciting scene. The great fingers ofradiance went groping all about the craft. No one seemed aboard. No oneseemed struggling in the waves about the ship.
Fast to its stern, however, by a long cable and thus held in position,was a rude raft. The searchlight showed a man standing upon this andviewing the blazing ship. At his feet, covered over with a tarpaulin,there seemed to be another human form.
“We cannot leave those people to their fate,” said the Professor. “Mr.King, we will drop the floats and stop, while you and the boys take theemergency yawl and go after whoever may be aboard of that raft.”
The _Albatross_ rested its floats lightly upon the water and skimmed itslowly at an even height, like the royal bird after which it was named.
The handling of the yawl was of a piece with the operation of all theperfect utilities of the airship. The three boys took the oars and theairman acted as pilot.
Just as they got near to the raft they saw the man standing upright uponit, sever the cable holding it to the burning ship. The heat from theflames had evidently become too intense for him to bear. Then he posedin an attitude of suspense and eagerness, a wiry, keen-eyed little man.He had a long, oval metal box strapped across his shoulder, and wasdripping wet.
“Good for you!” he hailed, as the airman grappled the raft with aboathook.
“Ship caught fire, did it?” remarked Mr. King.
“No, I set it.”
The yawl crew stared almost unbelievingly at the man as he made thisstatement, but he went on calmly:
“I had to. She’s water logged, and bound to sink the first capful ofbreeze that hits her.”
“Where are the passengers and crew?” asked the airman.
“Abandoned her early this morning. I was down in the cabin gettingthis”—and the speaker tapped the tin box as though it containedsomething precious. “They missed me, and were away in the boat before Iknew it.”
“But the fire?”
“I made this raft ready against the ship scuttling. Thought I’d fire theship for a signal for help. You see it did some good.”
“Well, get aboard,” ordered the airman.
“What about him?” inquired the shipwrecked man, and he pointed to thetarpaulin on the raft.
“Someone there?”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“A man I rescued not an hour ago. He lay across a wooden grating,floating along past the ship. Hi
s head is bleeding, and he isunconscious.”
Mr. King directed Dave and Hiram to assist in lifting the insensible manto the yawl. The latter was limp and lifeless as some water logged rat.They placed him in the bottom of the yawl and resumed their oars.
“See here,” spoke the man with the tin box, “the best you can do for meis a sky sailor, is it?”
“That, or nothing,” replied the airman.
“Where are you bound for?”
“Across the Atlantic, for Europe.”
“I knew it would come some day,” observed the rescued man quite coolly.“You see, I’m an inventor myself. I’ve got in that tin box patents for anew kind of color photography that will make me millions. I’m notaltogether poor just now, either, and if you set me and my patents safeon _terra firma_ almost anywhere, I’ll pay a handsome reckoning.”
Within the hour the rescued men were hoisted safely into the airship andthe yawl replaced in position. The unconscious man had been carried intoone of the staterooms. Professor Leblance had quite a smattering ofmedicine. He examined the patient, prepared some remedies from amedicine chest the craft carried, and came into the cabin to report toMr. Dale.
“A very sick man. What water and exposure have not done, a bad cut onthe head has. He is delirious and in a weak and feverish condition. Iwould suggest that you in the cabin here take turns in caring for him.”
All hands were agreeable to this. In the excitement and bustle of therescue, Dave and the others had not particularly noticed the sufferer.Dave had scarcely entered the place where the patient lay, however, withHiram, when he gave a great start. He stood with his eyes fixed on theman, as he spoke hurriedly to his comrade.
“Go to Mr. King and tell him to come here at once.”
“What is it, Dashaway?” inquired the airman, appearing a few minuteslater.
“Look, Mr. King,” said the young aviator, pointing to the prostrate man;“who is he?”
“Impossible!” ejaculated Mr. King, starting back. “Why, it’s RogerDavidson!”
There was no doubt of the fact. In turn Grimshaw, young Brackett andeven Hiram confirmed the identification.
“Here’s a new mystery for you,” admitted Mr. King, coming into the cabinan hour later. “The clothes that man wore show little adaptability toairship work. In one of his pockets I found the main stub of a steamshipticket. He never fell from any airship. I can account for hisextraordinary appearance upon the scene in one way only.”
“And that?” questioned Mr. Dale.
“Is that he was lost off some ocean steamer. One thing certain—the_Dictator_ never started across the Atlantic with this man in charge.”
For three days Davidson lay insensible most of the time. Meanwhile the_Albatross_ coursed its way without accident or delay. All hands weredelighted over the success thus far of their wonderful enterprise. Theypassed the three-quarters distance mark with every prospect of reachinggoal in splendid trim.
It was a cool, cloudy and misty night, and both the professor and airmanwere on close guard on account of the changed weather conditions. Theboys were reading in the cozy cabin. Grimshaw and Mr. Dale had gone tobed, and everything seemed proceeding smoothly in engine and pilotrooms. Finally Hiram looked up from his book.
“We are surely going to make it,” he remarked. “The professor says thatit will be a clean shoot ahead for land first thing in the morning.”
“I can hardly realize that there is every chance of reaching the goaland winning the prize,” observed the young aviator.
“Say, what was that?” abruptly interjected young Brackett.
There had come a sudden shock. It resembled a wrench, a shiver; as ifsome vital part of the giant mechanism had met with disaster.
“Something wrong!” cried Dave, springing to his feet.
At that moment a blood-curdling yell echoed through the airship.