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"Pardon once more: a Zeppelin would be incapable of ascending much above six thousand feet. At least, that is their record so far, and it is for that reason that, though a menace to all nations who have none, supposing Germany were to declare war, and such nations were within the six hundred miles radius, the Zeppelin is still not entirely mistress of the air. There is always the speedy, powerful aeroplane, capable with ease of ascending infinitely higher, far out of range of her deck guns, for Zeppelins carry weapons above just as you see here, and from that point dropping bombs upon her."
"Ugh! Disagreeable sort of game that," laughed the Major, shrugging his shoulders and staring upward. "Nasty thing to receive a bomb when slung even six thousand feet in the air. You'd come an awful crasher."
"As to exploding," continued Joe serenely, "of course one no longer experiences at these high alt.i.tudes the normal fourteen pounds per square inch one is accustomed to on terra firma. The atmosphere is rarer, it weighs considerably less, and exerts decidedly less pressure.
Hence, as you rightly a.s.sume, the envelope of a Zeppelin tends to tear.
But, my dear sir, permit me to hand you a sample of sheet celludine.
See, it is transparent, flexible, and extremely light. Please tear it, using as much force as you wish, and thereby prove that it is neither tough nor unstretchable."
The inventor held out a single sheet of his wonderful yet simple material, while d.i.c.k craned his neck forward to get a closer view. As for Alec and Andrew, they were already versed in the characteristics of the stuff, but none the less interested. At once the Major complied with Joe's wishes.
"Light, transparent, flexible," he said. "Yes, admitted. You agree, Colonel. Now tough and non-extensible; that is, won't stretch."
"Like rubber," interjected d.i.c.k.
"Quite so. Hang on--no, you're too light yet. Who ever heard of a mids.h.i.+pman having weight? The Colonel will suit my purpose. Now, Steven, pull with all your might."
As was only to be expected the experiment proved the value of celludine conclusively.
"I've been through the same sort of game," laughed Andrew. "I've tugged and pulled and stamped on the stuff till I was hot. Then, gentlemen, I put my money into this s.h.i.+p. I had had a practical demonstration."
"But we were talking of exploding," said Joe. "Of course, each one of the gas compartments has a safety valve, so that if at any time the pressure from without should lessen to a dangerous degree, then the valves open and gas escapes. But you were looking at the aeroplane. I propose to make use of it presently; for our friend, the French airman whom d.i.c.k was sent to rescue, is now recovered and wishes to be landed."
A close inspection of the heavier-than-air machine designed by Joe Gresson proved of absorbing interest, for here again celludine entered into the greater part of its construction. Possessed of two planes, these were supported by girders pa.s.sing to right and left, and braced together in a manner which made them peculiarly rigid, while the lower and upper planes were supported on the girders holding those positions respectively, some three feet only separating them. Immediately beneath, forming, in fact, the foundation for the girders, was a long, boat-shaped body, with sharpened prow, no visible keel, and a flat bottom tapering from stem to stern. The latter extended a considerable distance, and supported at its end two small elevating planes and a big vertical rudder. Finally, two struts on either side had spring wheels attached to them, while the steel stampings, to which they were bolted themselves, had a form of spring attachment which one could realize would provide against severe shocks when landing.
"Then she can come down on water or on land?" asked the Colonel, adjusting an eyegla.s.s which he had just produced. "Most interesting. And how, pray, does she return to her parent s.h.i.+p, this gigantic air vessel?"
"How? By merely circling above and dropping on this deck. I will show you," said Joe, his face flushed with pride. "But first allow me to describe the method by which the pilot controls the machine, and how lateral and fore-and-aft stability are a.s.sured. See, there are the same movements as on other machines for controlling height, for turning, or 'banking', to use the technical expression. One merely sits in the cab placed towards the stem of the boat body where the levers are located.
Come, Colonel, and you too, Major, and d.i.c.k. Try a spin. I can a.s.sure you that there is no risk in the matter."
"But--but set off when ten thousand feet from the land, when one can distinguish no single object," cried the former, aghast at such a suggestion. "Yes, I'll come," he said a moment later, deliberately s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his monocle a little tighter into position and looking at the inventor. "You tell me there is no great risk, and hearing that, I accept the invitation. After all, you must not blame me if I show some little trepidation. My dear sir, I am not a bird, and this is the first occasion on which I have ever ascended from native earth."
As for the Major, he too nodded his willingness, though he also felt not a little trepidation. As for d.i.c.k, one may say that the happy-go-lucky fellow hardly ever counted risks, such is the record of mids.h.i.+pmen. But even so, a glance through the transparent material beneath him towards the brown blur far, far below caused him an undoubted tremor. But he had grit. He had proved it, and now leaped into the boat without further hesitation. The Colonel and his brother officer were already there, while Joe stepped in behind them.
"Take your seats, gentlemen," he said, with a smile which went far to rea.s.sure them. "Now, we are ready, save for the fact that our engine is not yet running, while the doors of this sunken hangar are not open. But I pull this cord hanging overhead. See! An electric motor raises the whole shed and opens it. Then we press this little pedal--more electricity, my friends--a six-volt battery feeds a small motor aboard here and turns the engine round. Now air is forced through my paraffin carburettor and the vapour resulting is fed to that gasometer in the bows of the boat. Yes, it's a gasometer, just as you see on land, though much smaller. Thence the gas pa.s.ses to the engine, where it receives more air and--ah! she's off. Listen to her humming, and for one moment notice the position of the engine. It is centrally placed, immediately beneath the planes, and is suspended from a single point. Thus it is free to swing both backward and forward and from side to side. There lies the secret of automatic stability. Say we are coasting along and a gust cants us to the right. The heavy engine still keeps in the same vertical position, while this whole machine turns as it were on that single point. You can readily follow that certain levers attached to engine and machine will be altered in position, and as a direct result the wing tips are warped in a prearranged manner, the back planes rotate upward or downward, or the rudder itself is operated. That is for coasting, for use when on a long, straight flight, when one wishes to take note of one's surroundings, to eat, or even to sleep."
"Sleep!" gasped the Major.
"Why not?" came Joe's cool answer.
"But up in the air, thousands of feet up!"
"As well there as within a hundred feet. The action I have been describing is automatic. There is no question of human error in its behaviour. So long as the planes have room for manoeuvring, and the engine does not stop, there is no need to interfere in the slightest.
Set your course, lock your tiller, and go to sleep. But you shall see; for the moment I will trust to my own skill in manoeuvring. In fact, by pulling this small lever I secure the engine. In effect it is now suspended not only from a single point, but fixed rigidly to the framework of the whole machine. Then if I wish to bank, no automatic action can disturb my calculations. We are ready, I think. Look!
flexible tubes above the engine carry the water from the force pumps to the motors on the hubs of the two propellers. There you see precisely the same hydraulic system of conveying power as is used elsewhere in this airs.h.i.+p. No need, therefore, to have a dozen men holding the machine down, for the propellers are motionless, the bypa.s.s being full open. But I close it now--watch them twirl. I shut it almost completely----"
"Hi! Hold on!" shouted d.i.c.k at that instant, while the Colonel gripped the sides of the cab and actually dropped his monocle.
"We're off!" bellowed the Major, jamming his hat down on his head and clenching his teeth tightly.
"Away she goes!" called Joe, his face set, his eyes glued on the deck before him.
Those two propellers hissed and roared as they rotated, the biplane resting so tranquilly a moment earlier beneath the transparent roof of her shed leaped into the open, her wheels already engaged with the rails placed there to guide them. In a moment or two she was speeding along them at forty miles an hour, so fast, indeed, that d.i.c.k could feel her lifting already. He sat down hard, bit his lip, and tried to look as if the trip before him was of little moment. But the gallant d.i.c.k's heart was fluttering in the most uncomfortable manner. Indeed, we must report the fact that Mr. Mids.h.i.+pman Hamshaw was almost reduced to the condition of abject funk. For the machine lifted of a sudden. The deck of the airs.h.i.+p, that deck which only a few hours before had seemed to the mids.h.i.+pman so insecure, so frail, so wanting in stability, and now--so curious is the change of opinion brought by altered circ.u.mstances--which offered such a firm standing, that deck flashed from beneath the biplane. One second there was the familiar, transparent ma.s.s of the airs.h.i.+p beneath them; the next they were perhaps a hundred feet from her, out in the open, suspended on thin air, supported by the atmosphere upon a machine which relied on no gas to sustain it, but merely upon the upward push of the ether into which she had rushed. No wonder that the usually das.h.i.+ng d.i.c.k clutched firmly to the side of the cab and uttered a breathless "Jingo!"
CHAPTER XII
Carl Aboard the Biplane
There is a very old and no doubt true saying that everything comes to those who wait, and Mr. Carl Reitberg may be said to have been one of these fortunate individuals. For all that he desired seemed to be about to be consummated.
"At last! A brilliant inspiration, really," he was telling himself almost at the identical moment when Joe Gresson set out from the great airs.h.i.+p with the Major, the Colonel, and d.i.c.k, and swooped into s.p.a.ce upon his wonderful biplane. "A really brilliant inspiration. Here have I been thinking and bothering and cudgelling my brains for a means to--to--er--well, to put a stop to what might well be an astounding triumph for that Andrew Provost and his conceited nephew, when a sudden thought strikes me, all difficulties are cleared away, and the future becomes rosy."
The stout, roundabout figure of this little man who spoke English with an accent, who loved the freedom, the customs, and the inst.i.tutions of Great Britain, and who had waxed rich and prosperous because of the protection and many opportunities which the country or her possessions had given him, rolled round in the deep armchair in which he was seated, while his hand groped for a cut-gla.s.s tumbler standing on an adjacent table. The deep-set, cunning eyes saw none of the surrounding magnificence which the walls of his smoking-room displayed; for Mr. Carl Reitberg was deeply immersed, lost in thought, carried away by the brilliance of his inspiration.
"Yes," he reflected again, "a brilliant inspiration. Here was I in London--or rather, to put it correctly, here am I in London--hearing on every side tales of the airs.h.i.+p, of her strength, of her swiftness, of her original design, capacity, and extraordinary power; and yet there is no way of moving, no means of arresting the world tour of the air vessel, no method of--er--er causing an unfortunate accident Then, when all seems to have gone badly for me, when, owing to my own stupid impulse, my desire to be applauded as a sportsman, the bank holds one hundred thousand pounds which I have deposited, without power of withdrawal, against the day when the s.h.i.+p returns, then, I say, difficulties suddenly fly. It is strange how a man's brain at last hits upon a solution."
In his delight he had begun to speak aloud, addressing his words to the four walls of the room, to the costly pictures attached to them, to the velvet curtains, the cigar cabinets, the table loaded with bric-a-brac, and to curios and valuables in general. In any case he had not included the only other occupant of the room, had never once turned his eyes in his direction, had seemed to have forgotten him utterly. But the man there, lounging placidly in a deep and luxurious armchair, smiling sardonically, and nursing a damaged arm which he wore in a sling, was listening intently. Once he scowled and growled something beneath his breath. And now that Carl Reitberg seemed to have finished he stole a look at him, and leaned over and coolly helped himself to a cigar which, by the breadth of the gilded band about it, might have cost a small fortune.
"A brilliant inspiration, eh?" he asked languidly, settling himself back in his chair when he had set his cigar going. "What?"
The words brought his host back to Mother Earth with a start. To speak the truth there was no love lost between Carl Reitberg and Adolf Fruhmann, for that rascal was the other inmate of this room. The pompous little owner of this magnificent establishment would have ignored his one-time accomplice had he not need of him. Now he put up with his presence as best he could. Not that Adolf Fruhmann was of much value at the moment; for an accident in the streets had left him with a broken arm, much to Carl's annoyance.
"That's what I was telling you," he answered savagely. "Here are you fool enough to get an arm broken, thereby rendering yourself helpless when it was a matter of arrangement between us that you were to act----"
"One moment; not so fast," came from the other. "You speak as if I'd asked that taxi driver to run me down, as if I enjoyed the suffering that's followed. Besides, if I'm helpless for the moment, and you've been fool enough to plant a hundred thousand pounds into a bank in such a way that you can't finger it till this challenge is settled, why, it's for you to move, you to risk your own skin, I'm thinking."
Certainly there was no love lost between them, and if Carl imagined that Adolf would cringe and whine when in his presence, the events of the past few days had entirely undeceived him. For Adolf had become a leech, a detestable fellow who clung to the man who desired to employ him. From that squalid tenement dwelling down by Whitechapel, he had removed himself to Carl Reitberg's luxurious mansion, and protest on that indignant gentleman's part had no effect.
"We've just got to sink or swim together," observed Adolf, with a scornful smile when his would-be benefactor flared out at him and bade him depart. "We're old chums, don't forget that, old partners, and--and there's a few who would like very much--very much indeed--to meet us."
It was a significant statement, and Adolf took no trouble to rob his words of the sinister threat which underlay them. From the meek, half-starved, down-at-heels ruffian, he had of a sudden, once he had been discovered by Carl, become a sleek, sardonic individual, sleeker perhaps for the fact that the best of London tailoring had turned him out in the latest of fas.h.i.+ons. Indeed, in the well-dressed, or rather, somewhat over-dressed individual lolling in the deep armchair in Carl's room, it was hard to recognize the unkempt, unwashed rascal of but a few days earlier.
And his benefactor was helpless. As Carl lay back watching his accomplice through half-closed lids, he was bound to admit that here was one item in which his scheme of attacking Andrew Provost had miscarried.
Adolf Fruhmann had got disgracefully out of hand, and was almost unmanageable. He had picked him out of the gutter merely for a purpose, and knowing that for gold this rascal would do almost anything. And now he was actually afraid of the man, dared not order him away, was fearful that a word from him might jeopardize his, Carl Reitberg's own position.
"Well, I suppose I shall have to put up with the nuisance," he reflected, as he scowled at his companion. "After all, it will not be for long, and later, when I have made use of him, why there are ways of ridding oneself of a nuisance. Now," he said aloud, "you were asking about this brilliant inspiration."
"I am incredulous. Carl Reitberg with an inspiration worth hearing of!"
The man was positively offensive, and caused the fat and pompous Carl to squirm, while the ferrety little eyes, sunk behind their lashes, positively glared at the rascal who had spoken.
"Well, let us hear it," said Adolf flippantly, flicking his cigar ash with one finger, and inspecting the glowing end with every sign of approval. "Carl Reitberg has an inspiration; his friends long to hear all about it."
"It is about the airs.h.i.+p," began Carl, ignoring the man's words, though his cheeks were purple.
"It always is," came the retort. "You dream of the thing; you think of it by day and night. That hundred thousand pounds weighs as heavily as a ton of lead."