*CHAPTER VII*
*A DUEL WITH WORDS*
Gadget's activities, however, were not confined merely to the duties ofcabin boy, although his diminutive size and his rapidity of movementmade him very useful in that capacity. To fetch and carry for theskipper or chief officer along that 670 feet of keel corridor was to hima life of sparkle and animation. But, when no particular duty calledhim, the pulsating mechanism of that mighty leviathan irresistiblyattracted him.
His round, closely cropped, well shaped head, and his roguish littleface, would suddenly appear in the wireless cabin or in one of the fourgondolas, where the powerful Sunbeam-Maori engines drove the whirlingpropellers.
Ship's mascot and general favourite though he was, his sharp wits soonenabled him to make himself almost indispensable. At length, however,the everlasting call seemed to be----
"Gadget! Gadget! Where is the little rascal? What mischief is he upto now?"
For it must be admitted that the overwhelming curiosity of the urchinsometimes got him into trouble. In this respect he had particularlyfallen foul of Morgan, the third engineer, a short, stout, somewhatstumpy type of Welshman, whose spell of duty generally confined hisactivities to the care of the twin-engines in the rear gondola.
It appears that Gadget had unwittingly broken the rules and regulationsof the airship by smuggling two parcels of tobacco aboard during a briefstay in one of the air ports. He knew full well that a little fortuneawaited the man who could unload smuggled tobacco down the WhitechapelRoad, and the temptation had been too great for him. He had beendiscovered, however, and the captain had punished him for the offence.
Now, Gadget was still smarting under this punishment when one day hestartled the third engineer by his sudden and unlooked for appearance inthe rear gondola.
"How now, you little rascal!" exclaimed Morgan, throwing a greasy rag atthe boy. "How much did you make on that tobacco?"
"Stop smokin' on dooty, will yer, an' mind yer own bisness!" rasped outthe urchin, feeling that both his dignity and importance were beingimperilled by this reference to his recent offence.
"Go away!" snarled the bad-tempered Welshman, surreptitiously hiding thestill smoking cigarette.
"Yah! Why don't yer get more 'revs' out o' those rear engines?" yappedthe insulting little Cockney boy, repeating a few words used by thecaptain himself the day before, and preparing to beat a hasty retreatthrough the doorway.
"You dirty ragamuffin!" shouted the stout man, flushing with anger, andhurling the oil can, which he held in his hand, at the gamin.
For one instant the tantalising little street arab disappeared on theother side of the door, but, when the missile had spent its force, andhad crumpled up against the panelling, leaving a pool of oil on thefloor, the urchin's head reappeared once more. The opportunity was toogood to be lost. All the vivacity of the boy was pitted against the hottempered Welshman, and Gadget was a master of invective, and had awonderful command of high sounding words, the real meaning of which,however, he did not properly understand. But he was just dying foranother of these encounters, so common in his experience of things downStepney way, or along the West India Dock Road.
"Call yerself an ingineer?" came the next gibe from the saucy, impudentlittle face, now distorted into something grotesque and ugly. "We'll betwo hours late at Cairo, an' all because you ain't fit to stoke adonkey-ingine."
"Ger-r-r-o-u-t!" shouted the angry man, making a rush for his tormentor."I'll break your head if you come in here again!"
"I'd like ter see yer!" came the tart reply, ten seconds later, as thehead reappeared once again, for Gadget had retreated swiftly some waydown the keel corridor, as his opponent made for him with a hugespanner.
The engineer had determined to lock the door of the little engine-roomagainst the little stinging gad-fly, but of course the sharp-wittedrascal had outwitted, or "spike-bozzled" him, as they say in the AirForce, by snatching the key and locking the communication-door on theouter side.
Morgan was beginning to find out to his cost that it was a very unwiseproceeding to cross the path of this pertinacious stowaway. He couldnot get rid of him, and this morning, after the skipper's recentremarks, he was trying to recover his lost reputation by extra attentionto his engines. Besides, the captain would be along on his rounds againsoon, and, if the engines were not doing their accustomed revolutions,there might be trouble.
Thinking he had now got rid of his tormentor, Morgan turned to examinehis engines, when the key turned softly in the lock once more, and theirrepressible mascot, peering through the slightly open door, grinned,and then gave vent to the one word, which means so much:--
"Spike-bozzled! Yah!"
"You're a little villain!" roared the engineer.
"You're an incubus!" retorted Gadget.
"Go away!"
"Swollen head, that's what you've got!"
"By St. David, if I catch you, I'll----" cried the now exasperatedWelshman.
"Abnormal circumference--distended stummick, that's what you'resufferin' from. The capten says so!" replied Gadget as a parting shot.
This ungentle reference to his personal symmetry was too much for theengineer, and he made another wild rush in the direction of hisopponent. This time, Gadget had no opportunity to lock the door, but,turning round, he bolted precipitately down the long keel corridor,cannoning into the chief officer, who was just coming along to the reargondola, and receiving a somewhat violent cuff on the head from thatdignified official, whose gravity had been gravely endangered by thissudden encounter.
"Here, you little rascal, take that!" cried the angry officer, andGadget, glad to get away on such slight terms, and feeling that he hadgiven his opponent value for his money, scampered off, and made his wayto the wireless cabin.
Here he assumed immediately an attitude of respectful attention, andeven prevailed on the officer in charge to give him another lesson onthe Morse code, for the urchin had a wonderful range of feeling whichenabled him at a moment's notice to adapt himself to the circumstancesof his environment.
"Wonderful, Gadget! You're making rapid progress. You shall have alesson in taking down messages, to-morrow. You have the making of agood wireless operator in you. I shall speak to the captain about it."
"Thank you, sir," replied the _gamin_, pulling his lock of hair by wayof salute. This lock of hair, by the way, at the urchin's specialrequest, had been left there, when the famous "R. D. clippers" had shornoff the rest of the crop, when the airship's barber had overhauled andclose-reefed him, soon after his first encounter with the captain.
Gadget's next visit was to the little photographic cabin, where thewonderful negatives and bioscope films were carefully prepared. Thesewere to record to the world at large the wonderful panorama of the earthand sky, photographed from the great air-liner on her wonderful trip.
Here, again, by his artful, winning way, which Gadget knew how to adoptwhen circumstances demanded it, the little urchin was on good terms withthe photographic officer. The latter, who admired the boy's characterand wit, and pitied his upbringing, had declared more than once thatGadget possessed in a large degree that intuitive genius which belongsto greatness, and prophesied a brilliant future for the neglected boy,if only he could be properly trained.
"Come to me for an hour a day, Gadget, when the captain does not requireyour services, and I will teach you photography. Some day you shallhave a camera of your own, and who knows, you may become a great filmoperator." And the grateful boy was only too quick to learn what theseskilful operators had to teach.
So, into this new life of adventure and travel, this little urchinentered with all the zest and enthusiasm of which he was capable, makingmany friends, and an occasional enemy. And all the while the greatairship, glistening in the tropical sun, sailed on across the widestretch of desert which lies between India and Egypt, along the line ofthe thirtieth parallel.