CHAPTER III
THE WONDERS OF THE SECRET BATTLEPLANE
"IT'S a long story," began Athol, having first given their questionertheir names. "We don't want to bore you, Mr. Blake."
"Not at all," the host hastened to assert. "I am all attention."
"Suppose I ought to go back to the early stages of the war," saidAthol. "You see, one yarn does for both of us, since we share andshare alike. Fifteen months ago we were at a boarding-school in thesouth of England. It was only a small affair. We were prefects andall that sort of thing, and had practically finished our educationbefore entering an engineering college. Dick's father is a majorserving in Mesopotamia, my governor is a lieutenant-colonel and aprisoner of war at Meseritz. We have no relatives left in England.After a time we ran away from school and enlisted. You see, we arefairly big fellows and somehow we couldn't hang back. The trainingpart wasn't half bad, although we had a couple of gypsies, anex-convict, and a solicitor as billet-mates. Then we did five monthsin France, and got on jolly well until we were both offeredcommissions. That put the hat on the show."
"How was that?" asked Mr. Blake.
"The colonel sent us back to the regimental depot, and while ourpapers were under consideration the War Office made us produce ourbirth certificates. Then they found out that we were both undereighteen, so they pushed us out of the army--worse luck."
"Wouldn't even give us a chance to go back to the ranks," added Dick."And we were having quite a good time. We'd stuck it through the bestpart of the winter, and the warmer weather was coming; but it was nouse. They turned us down."
"And so we thought we'd have a fling before we settle down toengineering," continued Athol. "We both have a little money. Webought the motor-bike and side-car--got it dirt cheap from a fellowwho was going to join up. We started off through the Midlands, werein the thick of the last Zepp raid in Northampton, went on throughNewark, York, Halifax, and Lancashire, and then to Cheshire. Fromthence to Shrewsbury and here we are."
"What regiment were you in?" enquired their host.
The lads produced the documents that had effectually floored therecruiting sergeants at Shrewsbury. They were their discharges fromthe Loyal North Lancashires.
"Wonder, with your mechanical turn of mind, that you hadn't tried forthe Royal Engineers or the Flying Corps," remarked Mr. Blake.
"We did have a shot at the R.F.C., but there were no vacancies atthat moment," explained Athol. "We were rather cut up about it. Butwe did see some flying out there. Once we saw our monoplanes bringdown a couple of Taubes one after the other; but sometimes we sawwhat we didn't want to see--our machines outclassed by those Fokkers.The brutes have the advantage, you know. They climb much more quicklythan ours. It's not that they are more powerfully engined. It's thedesign. Our fellows are frightfully keen, but they are handicapped."
"You seem keen on aviation?"
"Rather," replied Athol, enthusiastically.
"Then, perhaps, my modest workshop may interest you," remarkedDesmond Blake. "Pon' my word I don't know why I should allow you toinspect my work; I have kept it a strict secret so far, evendispensing with a staff of assistants in order to be untrammeled bythe unwelcome visits of more or less incompetent factory inspectors."
He paused, pondering over in his mind some debatable point.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, noticing his guests' empty soup plates."We're supposed to be at lunch, and I had forgotten the fact."
In answer to a summons on a bell the old servant reappeared, deftlyremoved the plates and served the second course. This done, he wentout.
"Since you have given me a résumé of your career," said Mr. Blake,"perhaps you might like to hear mine, at all events since themomentous day, the fourth of August, 1914.
"At the outbreak of hostilities I was in South America, doingremarkably well in mining engineering. A particular hobby of mine wasflying, and having made three or four successful experimentalmachines, embodying features not previously known to aviation, Inaturally thought that my experience would be welcome to the WarOffice.
"Accordingly I settled my affairs out there with the utmost dispatchand hurried home. My first interview with the authorities atWhitehall was decidedly frigid. They were awfully polite, but somehowthey failed to come to any practical decision. Wanted a scale model,as if that would serve the same purpose as the actual machine Iproposed to submit. I offered to have a battleplane complete,including engines, for inspection and test within fifteen days, but Iwas informed that this was unnecessary until the plans had beeninspected by a sub-committee.
"Altogether half a dozen sub-committees tried their hands with myplans and specifications. Afterwards I discovered that hardly asingle member knew anything about practical flying. Some of themhardly knew the difference between an airship and an aeroplane--askedquestions on a par with those of the Yankee senator at the 'Titanic'enquiry.
"Without going into details I may say that my offer to the War Officewas finally declined with thanks. I had no better luck with theAdmiralty, for directly they learnt that the War Office had 'turnedme down' I was metaphorically shown the door.
"I warrant that if I were a renegade and had taken my plans to Berlinthe German government would have snapped them up, either by fairmeans or foul. As it is, their agents have been giving me a deal oftrouble.
"However, foiled in my patriotic efforts I determined to erect aprivate factory, build a really formidable battleplane and give apractical demonstration over the heads of the War Office. My firsttrouble was to find a suitable site. It had to be in a remotedistrict, far from a prohibited military area, yet fairly accessiblefrom the important industrial centres. I lighted upon this place, andfound it answered my purpose.
"Everything I have to do single-handed. I dare not run the risk ofgetting mechanics to help, partly, as I said before, owing to theFactory Act restrictions, but more especially from a fear lest myideas should be filched.
"And now the finished article lies in my grounds, ready for instantflight, except for one drawback----"
"The snow, I suppose," hazarded Dick.
"Does not affect it to any appreciable extent," rejoined DesmondBlake. "My battleplane does not require hard, level ground for a'take-off.' It will rise almost perpendicularly. No, it is not theclimatic elements. To be concise I need a couple of capable andwilling helpers, and judging by what you have already told me, Ithink you fellows have sufficient patriotism to volunteer yourservices in that direction. Am I right?"
Dick gave his chum an enquiring glance. Athol, naturally cautious,knew that Dick would have jumped at the offer.
"Your tempting invitation needs thinking over," replied Athol. "Weshould----"
"Of course," agreed Desmond Blake. "Of course. Suppose you defer yourdecision until you have inspected my invention? You will, I feelsure, treat the subject as one of a highly confidential nature."
"Rather," agreed both lads simultaneously.
"I knew you would," continued their host. "In any case you will behere a week at least, for the snow lies about a long time, and theroads will be simply impassable for motor traffic during the thaw.That is, if you decide to continue your journey by motor. There isalways a means of getting to Church Stretton on foot and taking trainfrom there. On the other hand, if you decide to remain, my house isat your disposal."
"You are awfully kind," said Athol.
"With an ulterior motive," added Desmond Blake. "You are the veryfellows I was looking for. I want to 'rope you in.' That's speakingbluntly. I believe in saying what I mean without beating about thebush."
"You mentioned that you had trouble with the German agents," remarkedDick.
"I have reason to believe so," replied Blake. "I have no conclusiveproofs. I can only infer that spies are at the bottom of the trouble.On three occasions my grounds were broken into. My gatekeeper,Harvey, a tough old chap in spite of his years, was able to thwarttwo attempts to break into my workshop. On the third instance Iscared the intruder pretty badly by mean
s of a shock with a hightension wire. At the same time the automatic shutter of a camera wasreleased in the hope of getting the likeness of the gentleman inquestion. Unfortunately the magnesium flashlight failed to explode atthe same moment as the exposure of the lens. What I ought to havedone was to leave the lens uncovered. I shall know better next time."
"Wouldn't the plate become fogged?" asked Dick, who was a successfulamateur photographer.
"Oh no; you must remember the attempt was made at night. The suddenflash of the magnesium acts much the same as the brief exposure ofthe plate in daylight."
The meal proceeded slowly, while conversation flowed briskly. DesmondBlake knew the value of a good lunch as an incentive to amiability,and had played his cards well. "Now for the hangar," he said, at theend of the meal. "You smoke? No, good; I'm glad to hear it. It's anexpensive habit, although I have a great weakness in that direction.In fact, I sometimes find myself on the point of smoking a pipe inthe petrol store."
"We've seen fellows in the Royal Flying Corps drop the glowing endsof their cigarettes in petrol just for sheer mischief," said Dick."Nothing happened."
"But it might have," rejoined their host. "'Fraid it doesn't speakfor the good quality of the petrol or the common sense of the men whofool about with it. It isn't the liquid petrol that is dangerous, butthe vapour it gives off. I've been experimenting in that direction,trying to get a spirit that is non-inflammable under normalatmospheric pressure and only exploded when under compression."
"Have you been successful?" asked Athol.
"To a certain extent; that is to say, I have treated petrol so as tomake it unresponsive at ordinary pressure except to a very hotspark."
Still conversing Desmond Blake led the way from the house, through adense belt of pine trees, to a small clearing. The greater part ofthis space was occupied by a galvanised iron shed, at one end ofwhich were large double doors. Between the threshold and the nearmosttrees there was a distance of roughly ninety feet, the treesthemselves exceeding a hundred and twenty feet in height.
"Here's the hangar," announced their guide, indicating the shed.
"Curious situation, if you don't mind my saying so," observed Athol."You'll have to cut down more of those trees before the biplane isable to take flight."
"On the contrary there is more 'taking-off' space than is absolutelynecessary, and, I might add, the machine is not a biplane. It isfashioned, as far as possible, on the principle of a bird, and unlessmy memory plays me false, I know of no bird possessing more than twowings. But here we are."
Desmond Blake rolled back one of the doors of the shed. The other,actuated by means of a flexible wire running over pulleys, slid backtoo.
"Merely a labour-saving device," said Blake. "I based my calculationsupon a one-man show. But what do you think of her?"
In the dazzling reflected light from the snow the battleplane stoodrevealed to the lads' eager gaze. At first sight it hardly resembleda flying machine. It was more like a huge cigar raised at an angle offorty-five degrees and supported by a pair of trellis girders each ofwhich in turn terminated in a couple of pneumatic-tyred wheels. Theplanes were folded against the fuselage; there were no signs ofaerilons, horizontal or vertical rudders and other contrivancescommon to aeroplanes. This creation had the appearance of a gaunt,featherless bird standing erect on a pair of spidery legs.
"What propels it?" asked Dick. "Where is the propeller? And theplanes? You said it was not a biplane. To me it looks like a_non_plane. Hope I am not asking too many questions," he addedapologetically.
"Fire away; as many as you like," rejoined Desmond Blake. "In thefirst place there is no propeller, that is, if you mean a rotary one.To go back to the simile of birds; they don't cleave through the airunder the action of a two-bladed propeller. That, after all, is atacit admission by aeronautical engineers that they are unable tocopy nature; so they make a substitute that fails to perform therelative task that a bird's wings do with seemingly little effort. Ihave dispensed with a propeller and substituted mechanical planesthat approximate very clearly the natural method of flying. Before Iexplain further we must get aboard; I'll show you the way. One couldmake use of a pair of steps, but they would be awkward things tocarry about, especially at the Front."
With remarkable agility the inventor swarmed up a light aluminiumladder built into the girder-legs of the battleplane. Thirty feet uphe disappeared from view through an aperture in the underside of thefuselage.
In a trice Dick followed, Athol ascending with more deliberation. Thelatter was puzzled at the great rigidity of the aluminium girders.Evidently Desmond Blake had solved the task of making the metal astough as steel without any marked increase of weight. Another thingAthol noticed was that all the cross sections of the latticed girderwere pear-shaped, the blunt end facing the direction of flight, thetapering end being aft. This was expressly for the purpose ofreducing the friction of the air.
Squeezing through the trap door the lads found themselves on thefloor of the chassis, which was composed of a succession of broadsteps on inclined planes in order to afford a firmer footing when thebattleplane was at rest. Between the floor and the curved roof ordeck there was sufficient space for a tall man to stand upright.Against the concave sides were folded cots, in which those of thecrew "off duty" could sleep during prolonged flights, while atapproximately one-third of the length of the fuselage from the bluntnose was the motor room, a veritable nest of intricate, lightly-builtand powerful machinery.
"Do you work the battleplane entirely from under cover?" asked Athol.
"Oh no," replied Desmond Blake. "It is essential to have a wide fieldof outlook. Here is the pilot's seat. Get in and see what it islike."
He indicated a circular seat perched about a foot beneath the deck,from which an oval-shaped opening provided with a raised coaming hadbeen cut. Overhead was a light metal canopy which, when required,could be lowered flush with the top part of the chassis. To gain theseat from the floor of the fuselage it was necessary to make use of ametal ladder.
"Steady yourself by that horizontal bar," cautioned the inventor,indicating a short rod on the fore side of the coaming.
The warning was necessary, for, as Athol slid into the seat, the seatslid from him. It was only by hanging on to the bar and allowing hisfeet to dangle in the air that the lad saved himself from fallingfour or five feet to the floor.
"Don't say that I didn't give you fair warning," exclaimed DesmondBlake, while Dick laughed at his friend's predicament. "Now, haveanother shot at it. Lift yourself fairly into the seat. That's it."
"What's the idea?" enquired Athol.
"There are four seats like that, and each one is gimballed. That is,it is suspended in a similar manner to a compass on board ship, sothat in spite of the motion the sitter is always 'right side up.' Nomatter how the battleplane banks, nose-dives, or even 'loops theloop,' the crew, seated in their allotted stations, are always in anatural position."
"That I can see," said Dick. "But how is a fellow to see where's hegoing when the plane is upside down? In that event his head andshoulders are inside the fuselage."
"Only for a few moments," replied the inventor. "The plane isself-righting, provided, of course, there is 'air-room.' Just give aglance at your friend's feet. No, there's nothing wrong with them.That's not what I meant. His feet are resting on a step, behind thestep is a sheet of burnished metal inclined at an angle offorty-five. Now, in the event of the 'plane turning over on its majoraxis that mirror would project below the inverted deck of thechassis, and thus the pilot would still be able to 'look ahead.'"
Facing the pilot's seat were a few indicators and levers, whereby thealtitude and speed of the plane could be determined and the aircraftsteered on her course. A voice-tube communicated with themotor-mechanic who occupied the third seat. The second and fourthseats were raised slightly above the others, and were intended forthe machine-gunners.
"The offensive armament is not yet on board," explained the inventor."I have turn
ed out a couple of automatic weapons firing eight hundredshots a minute. Here is one of the cartridges," he continued, drawinga metal cylinder from his pocket. "The calibre is 303, the same asthat of the small arms of the British Army, but you must observe thatthe bullet is longer and different in other respects."
"It certainly is longer," agreed Dick, as he handled the cartridge."But beyond that I see no difference."
"Do you notice a minute line round the bullet?" asked Blake. "Theprojectile is made in two parts. On leaving the muzzle the parts flyapart, but are held together by a length of flexible wire. Thus eachbullet resembles a miniature chain-shot of the days of the old woodenwalls. A hostile plane would stand little chance if under the fire ofa hail of these bullets. There would be no clean holes in the fabric;struts and tension wires would be severed and the whole contraptionwould fall like a stone."
"Then what propels the plane?" asked Dick, his interest in the motorsclaiming precedence above all other constructional details.
"This pair of engines, each of two hundred horse-power," was thereply. "See, I actuate this lever and the wings--I prefer to callthem wings rather than planes--unfold."
Swiftly, yet with an even movement, wings, hitherto lying snuglyagainst the chassis, were outspread. Taking into consideration thelength of the battleplane from nose to tail--barely fifty feet--thespace from tip to tip of the wings looked disproportionately small.Each wing projected fifteen feet from the side, and curved backwardslike that of a bird. The fabric from which the wings were made wascomposed of thin, specially-treated aluminium, in plates overlappingeach other like tiles on the roof of a house.
"Now, Tracey," continued Desmond Blake, "see if you can coax themotors to start. If you can manage a car-engine you will be able toget them to fire. There's no danger of the bird taking flight. She'spinned down to the floor securely. At the same time I don't think Iwould run the motors all out, if I were you."
Deftly Dick set to work turning on the petrol and flooding thecarburettor.
"Is it necessary to prime the motors?" he asked.
"They ought to fire without," replied the inventor. "There's theself-starter--that lever on your right."
At the first attempt the engines fired easily. In spite of being in aconfined space there was very little noise, thanks to the efficientsilencer. It was doubtful whether the purr of the motors could beheard beyond the limits of the grounds.
Yet, although the fabric of the battleplane trembled under thepulsations of the motors, the wings remained motionless save for thevibration imparted to the whole contrivance. Seeing Dick's look ofenquiry the inventor pointed to a lever close to the lad's righthand.
"Gently with it," he cautioned. Depressing the lever Dick was awareof a terrific air-current rushing overhead. Dead leaves and pieces ofaluminium sheeting that were lying on the floor of the shed werewhisked up and flung about with great velocity. Peering over the edgeof the coaming Dick could see that both wings were now beating theair with terrific violence, being actuated by a number of rodsworking on concealed cams. Supplementary rods imparted a secondmotion to the wings, the innermost and rearmost edges of which movedup and down independently of the primary movement of the fore part.
Stretching out his hand the inventor cut off the electric current,and the motors came to a standstill.
"Cannot afford to waste petrol in these hard times," he said with asmile. "You've seen enough to form an idea of how the plane flies.The mere up and down flap of the wings is insufficient; it is thepeculiar twist of the after part that does the trick--something afterthe principle of a man sculling a boat by means of a single oarworking over the transom. If he were to waggle the blades of the oarto and fro without giving a dexterous twist nothing would resultexcept a see-saw motion of the boat. It certainly would not moveahead through the water, except for the tortuous movement of theoar."
"I should have thought that the wings were far too small," observedAthol.
"On the contrary they are just the right proportion compared with theweight and power of the motors," replied Desmond Blake. "I have notmodelled my invention on the lines of an albatross, whose spread ofwings is enormous. I had the lark in my mind's eye. That little bird,as you know, soars almost perpendicularly, yet the wings are small inproportion to the size and weight of its body. Now you have had ageneral idea of the secret battleplane. To return to the attack: areyou fellows willing to sign on as crew?"
"Rather!" replied both lads without hesitation.