CHAPTER II
EASTWARD HO!
Before the farmer reached the hospitable door of the Three Waggoners,Smith had made his descent upon a broad open space in his father'spark near Cosham. There stood the large shed in which he housed theaeroplane; adjoining it were a number of workshops. It was quite darknow, and no one was about; but Smith clearly had no intention ofputting his machine up for the night. As soon as he came to the groundhe hurried off on foot in one direction, Rodier on a bicycle inanother, their purposeful movements betokening a course of actionarranged during the few minutes' conversation at the farm.
Smith walked rapidly through the park, and, entering the house, foundhis mother placidly knitting on a settee in the large old-fashionedhall.
"Ah, my dear boy," she said, as he appeared; "how late you are, andhow dirty! We have waited dinner for you."
"You shouldn't have done that, mother," he replied cheerfully; "thoughit's very good of you."
"Well, you see, it's your last night with us for ever so long, andwith Tom and your father away--"
"Yes, I'm sorry I'm so late," Smith broke in hastily. "We were caughtin a mist. I shan't be ten minutes changing."
He ran up the stairs, and before going to his room put his head in atthe door of his sister's.
"You there, Kate? You didn't get my telegram, then? Come to my room inten minutes, will you? I want to see you particularly before dinner."
With a seaman's quickness he was bathed and dressed within the time hehad named.
"Come in," he said, as his sister tapped. "You've got a pretty coolhead, Sis; look at this, quickly."
He handed her the evening paper, pointing out the fateful paragraph.Kate went a little pale as she read it; her bosom heaved, but she saidnothing.
"It must be kept from Mother," he said. "Get hold of to-morrow'spaper, and if the paragraph is there, cut it out or tear off thepage."
"But people will write, or call. They are sure to speak of it."
"That's your chance. Intercept 'em. You always read the Mater'sletters to her, don't you? Keep the servants' mouths shut. And I wantyou to write for me to all those people and cry off; pressingbusiness--any excuse you like."
"But you, Charley?"
"I'm off to London, to-night; must see what can be done for the olddad, you know."
"How shall we explain to Mother? She has been looking forward to yourspending your last night at home."
"Roddy will come up by and by with an urgent telephone message. TheMater is so used to that sort of thing that she won't smell a rat."
"How you think of everything, Charley! But I'm afraid Mother willnotice something in our manner at dinner."
"Not if we're careful. You take your cue from me. Come along!"
No one would have guessed at that dinner table that anything wasamiss. Smith seemed to be in the highest spirits, talking incessantly,describing his sudden descent on Firtop Farm and his interview withthe farmer so racily that his mother laughed gently, and even Kate,for all her anxiety, smiled. In the middle of the meal the belatedtelegram arrived, giving Smith an opportunity for poking fun atofficial slowness.
Dinner was hardly over when a servant announced that Mr. Rodier wasbelow, asking to see Mr. Smith upon particular business. Smith slowlylighted a cigarette before he left the room. He found Rodier in thehall.
"Got it, Roddy?" he asked.
"Yes, I ask for globe: Mr. Dawkins give me first a pink paper. 'Sadnews this!' says he."
"I hope to goodness he'll hold his tongue about it."
"He must have it back to-morrow, he said. The inspector is coming."
"All right. Now cut off to the housekeeper and stroke as hard as youcan. I don't know when you'll get another meal."
Returning to the dining-room, Smith said--
"Sorry, Mater, I've got to go to London at once. Too bad, isn't it,spoiling our last night. Ah well! it can't be helped."
"Is it Admiralty business, Charley?" asked his mother.
"Well, not exactly; something about a wreck, I think."
"I suppose I had better send on your things to the Leslies in themorning?"
"I'll send you a wire. I mayn't go there, after all. Nuisance havingto change again, isn't it?"
He hastened from the room, got into his air-man suit, covered it withan overall, emptied his cash-box into his pocket, and returned to saygood-bye. Kate accompanied him to the door.
"Buck up, old girl," he said, as he kissed her. "I'll let you knowwhat happens, if I can. By the way, there's a globe in the shed I wantyou to send back to Dawkins, the school-master, first thing to-morrow.Good-bye! Send Roddy after me as soon as he has finished his grub."
He hurried through the park, and coming to the shed, switched on theelectric light, which revealed a litter of all sorts of objects:models, parts of machinery, including an aero-cycle on which he hadspent many fruitless hours, and, on a bench, a small geographicalglobe of the world. Taking up a piece of string, he made certainmeasurements on the globe, jotting down sundry names and rows offigures on a piece of paper. Then he went to a telephone box in acorner of the shed, and rang up a certain club in London, asking ifMr. William Barracombe was there. After the interval usual in trunkcalls, he began--
"That you, Billy? Good! Thought I'd catch you. Can you give me anhour or two?... What?... No: not this time. No time for explanationsjust now.... Right!... Exactly: nothing ever surprises you."(A smile flickered on his face.) "Well, I want you to wire toConstantinople--Con-stant-i-no-ple--to some decent firm, and arrangefor them to have eighty gallons of petrol and sixteen of lubricatingoil ready first thing to-morrow.... Yes, to the order of LieutenantSmith.... Also means of transport, motor if possible: if not,horses.--I say, Central, don't cut me off, please. Yes, I know mytime's up: I'll renew.--You there, Billy? That all right?... No,that's not all. I want you to meet me on Epsom Downs aboutmidnight.... Yes, coming by 'plane.... Wait a bit. Bring with you fourbottles of bovril, couple of pounds meat lozenges, half-dozen tinssardines, bottle of brandy--yes, _and_ soda, as you say; couple ofpounds chocolate, two tins coffee and milk.... No: I say, hold on....Also orographical maps--maps ... o-ro-graph-i-cal maps ... of AsiaMinor, Southern Asia including India, Straits Settlements,Polynesia.... I don't know: Stanford's will be shut, but I _must_ have'em.... That's up to you. Bring 'em all down with you.... Well, you'dbetter light a bonfire, so that I can tell where you are. You'llmanage it? Good man! See you about midnight then.... Yes: I saw it;bad business. Hope they'll manage to hold out.... Tell you when I seeyou. Goodbye!"
He replaced the receiver, and turned to find Rodier at his elbow.
"Now, Roddy," he said, "we've got two hours. Slip into it, man."
For the next two hours they worked with scarcely the exchange of aword, overhauling every part of the engine quickly, but withmethodical care, cleaning, oiling, testing the exhaust and thecarburettor, filling the petrol tank and the reservoir of lubricatingoil, examining the turbines and the propeller--not a square inch ofthe machinery escaped their attention. When their task was finishedthey were as hot and dirty as engine-drivers. They washed at a sink,filled two stone jars with water and placed them in the cage, adjustedthe wind screens, and then sat down to rest and talk over thingsbefore starting on their night journey. Smith pencilled somecalculations on a piece of paper, referring more than once to theglobe. Then taking a clean piece, he drew up a schedule which had someresemblance to a railway timetable.
"There! How does that strike you, Roddy?" he said, when he hadfinished it.
"It strikes me hot," said the Frenchman. "What I mean, it will be hotwork. But that is what I like."
"So do I, so long as I can keep cool. At any rate we can start to thesecond. Are you ready?"
The sky was brilliant with stars when, just after midnight, they tooktheir places in the aeroplane. Twenty-five minutes' easy run,east-north-east, brought them within sight of the dull red glarenorthward that betrayed London. Smith had so often made this journeythat, even if the
stars had been invisible, he could almost havedirected his course by the lights of the villages and towns over whichhe passed. He knew them as well as a sailor knows the lights of thecoast.
Just before half-past twelve, in a steep slope on his right, loomingup black against the sky, he recognized Box Hill. Passing this at amoderate pace, which allowed them to take a good look-out, they saw ina minute or two a small red flame flickering in the midst of a darkexpanse. Every second it grew larger as they approached; Smith did notdoubt it was the bonfire which he had asked his friend Barracombe tokindle. Dropping to the ground within a few feet of the fire, whichturned out to be of considerable dimensions, he found a motor-carstanding near it, and Barracombe walking up and down.
"Well, old man," said Barracombe, as Smith alighted; "they call me ahustler, but you've hustled me this time. What in the world are youafter?"
"Have you got the stuff?" returned Smith with the curtness of an oldfriend.
"Yes; chocolate, bovril, the whole boiling; but--"
"And the maps?"
"_And_ the maps. A nice job I had to get them. All the shops wereshut, of course. I stole 'em."
"Played the burglar?"
"No. I went to the Royal Societies' Club, and pinched them out of thelibrary. Posted a cheque to pay for 'em, but there was nobody aboutand I couldn't stop for red tape."
"Well, you're a big enough man to do such things with impunity. That'swhy I 'phoned you: knew you'd do it somehow."
Although Barracombe was a potentate in the city, who controlledimmense organizations, and held the threads of multifarious interests,he was very human at bottom, and Smith liked him all the better forthe glow of self-satisfaction that shone upon his face at this tributeto his omnipotence.
"But now, what's it all mean, you beggar? Are you off to reorganizethe Turkish navy or something?"
"I'm off to the Solomon Islands."
"What!"
"That's it: going to have a shot at helping the poor old governor."
"But, my dear fellow, he'll either be relieved or done for long beforeyou can get there. The paper said they were practically unarmed."
"Exactly. I'm going to pick up some rifles and ammunition at one ofthe Australian ports, and so help 'em to keep their end up until thegunboat reaches them. I'll probably get there a day before the boat."
"But do you know how far it is? It's thirteen thousand miles or more."
"I know. I'm going to have a try. I've got seven days to get there andback; then my leave's up. I can do it if the engine holds out, and ifyou'll help."
"My dear chap, you know I'll do anything I can, but--well, upon mysoul, you take my breath away. I'm not often surprised, but--what areyou grinning at?"
"At having knocked the wind out of your sails for once, old man.Seriously, we've thought it out, Roddy and I. We've more than oncedone a speed of a hundred and ninety. Of course it's a differentmatter to keep it up for days on end, but how long have you had yourmotor-car?"
"Three months. Why?"
"And how often has it broken down?"
"Not at all; but I haven't done thirteen thousand miles at a go."
"You've done more, with stoppages. Well, I shall have stoppages--justlong enough to clean and take in petrol and oil, and that's where Iwant your help. I want you to arrange for eighty gallons of petrol andsixteen of oil, to be ready for me at three places besidesConstantinople. Here's the list; Karachi, Penang, and Port Darwin.Could you cable me to the address in Constantinople the names of firmsat those places?"
"Of course. I'll look 'em up the first thing in the morning."
"Too late. It must be done to-night. If all goes well I shall be inConstantinople soon after eight to-morrow--our time; and I must leavethere in a couple of hours if I'm to stick to my programme."
"Very well. I'll look out some names as soon as I get back to town.You mean to keep me up all night. There you are, man; it's absurd; youcan't drive night and day for seven days without sleep."
"Roddy and I shall have to take watch and watch."
"But suppose you're caught in a storm; suppose the engine breaks downwhen you're over the sea--"
"My dear chap, if we fall into the sea we shan't hurt ourselves somuch as if it were land. I've got a couple of lifebuoys. If a stormcomes on, too bad to sail through, we must come down and wait tillit's over. Of course any accident may stop us, even a speck of grit inthe engine; but you're the last man in the world to be put off a thingby any bogey of what-might-be, and I'm going to look at the brightside. It's time I was off, so I'll take the things you'vebrought--oh, I see Roddy has already shipped them, so I'll getaboard."
"Well, I wish you all the luck in the world. Send me a wire when youland, will you, so that I may know how you are getting on."
"If I have time. Good-bye, old man; many thanks."
They shook hands, and Smith was just about to jump into his seat whenthere came the sound of galloping horses, and the incessant clangingof a bell. Smith laughed.
"Your blaze has roused the Epsom Fire Brigade," he said with achuckle.
"Well, I thought I'd better make a big one to make sure of you,"replied Barracombe.
Smith waited with his hand on the lever until the fire-engine haddashed up.
"What the blazes!" cried the captain, as he leapt from his seat,looking from the motor-car to the aeroplane with mingled amazement andindignation.
"Good-bye, Billy," cried Smith; "I'll leave you to explain."
The propeller whirled round, the machine flew forwards, and in a fewseconds was soaring with its booming hum into the air. Smith glanceddown and saw the fireman facing Barracombe, his annoyance beingevidently greater than his curiosity. He would have smiled if hecould have heard Barracombe's explanation.
"W-w-why yes," he said, affecting a distressing stutter; "this kind ofb-b-bonfire is a hobby of m-mine; it's about my only r-r-recreation.M-m-my name? Certainly. My name's William bub-bub-Barracombe, andyou'll find me in, any day between t-ten and f-five, at 532mum-mum-Mincing Lane."