IX. The Terror In The Air
"There's something queer about these aeroplane accidents at BelmorePark," mused Kennedy, one evening, as his eye caught a big headline inthe last edition of the Star, which I had brought uptown with me.
"Queer?" I echoed. "Unfortunate, terrible, but hardly queer. Why, it isa common saying among the aeronauts that if they keep at it long enoughthey will all lose their lives."
"Yes, I know that," rejoined Kennedy; "but, Walter, have you noticedthat all these accidents have happened to Norton's new gyroscopemachines?"
"Well, what of that" I replied. "Isn't it just barely possible thatNorton is on the wrong track in applying the gyroscope to an aeroplane?I can't say I know much about either the gyroscope or the aeroplane, butfrom what I hear the fellows at the office say it would seem to me thatthe gyroscope is a pretty good thing to keep off an aeroplane, not toput on it."
"Why?" asked Kennedy blandly.
"Well, it seems to me, from what the experts say, that anything whichtends to keep your machine in one position is just what you don't wantin an aeroplane. What surprises them, they say, is that the thing seemsto work so well up to a certain point--that the accidents don't happensooner. Why, our man on the aviation field tells me that when thatpoor fellow Browne was killed he had all but succeeded in bringing hismachine to a dead stop in the air. In other words, he would have won theBrooks Prize for perfect motionlessness in one place. And then Herrick,the day before, was going about seventy miles an hour when he collapsed.They said it was heart failure. But to-night another expert says inthe Star--here, I'll read it: 'The real cause was carbonic-acid-gaspoisoning due to the pressure on the mouth from driving fast through theair, and the consequent inability to expel the poisoned air which hadbeen breathed. Air once breathed is practically carbonic-acid-gas. Whenone is passing rapidly through the air this carbonic-acid-gas is pushedback into the lungs, and only a little can get away because of the rushof air pressure into the mouth. So it is rebreathed, and the result isgradual carbonic-acid-gas poisoning, which produces a kind of narcoticsleep.'"
"Then it wasn't the gyroscope in that case?" said Kennedy with a risinginflection.
"No," I admitted reluctantly, "perhaps not."
I could see that I had been rash in talking so long. Kennedy had onlybeen sounding me to see what the newspapers thought of it. His nextremark was characteristic.
"Norton has asked me to look into the thing," he said quietly. "If hisinvention is a failure, he is a ruined man. All his money is in it,he is suing a man for infringing on his patent, and he is liablefor damages to the heirs, according to his agreement with Browne andHerrick. I have known Norton some time; in fact, he worked out his ideasat the university physical laboratory. I have flown in his machine, andit is the most marvellous biplane I ever saw. Walter, I want you to geta Belmore Park assignment from the Star and go out to the aviation meetwith me to-morrow. I'll take you on the field, around the machines--youcan get enough local colour to do a dozen Star specials later on. I mayadd that devising a flying-machine capable of remaining stationary inthe air means a revolution that will relegate all other machines to thescrap-heap. From a military point of view it is the one thing necessaryto make the aeroplane the superior in every respect to the dirigible."
The regular contests did not begin until the afternoon, but Kennedyand I decided to make a day of it, and early the next morning we werespeeding out to the park where the flights were being held.
We found Charles Norton, the inventor, anxiously at work with hismechanicians in the big temporary shed that had been accorded him, andwas dignified with the name of hangar.
"I knew you would come, Professor," he exclaimed, running forward tomeet us.
"Of course," echoed Kennedy. "I'm too much interested in this inventionof yours not to help you, Norton. You know what I've always thought ofit--I've told you often that it is the most important advance since theoriginal discovery by the Wrights that the aeroplane could be balancedby warping the planes."
"I'm just fixing up my third machine," said Norton. "If anythinghappens to it, I shall lose the prize, at least as far as this meet isconcerned, for I don't believe I shall get my fourth and newest modelfrom the makers in time. Anyhow, if I did I couldn't pay for it--I amruined, if I don't win that twenty-five-thousand-dollar Brooks Prize.And, besides, a couple of army men are coming to inspect my aeroplaneand report to the War Department on it. I'd have stood a good chanceof selling it, I think, if my flights here had been like the trials yousaw. But, Kennedy," he added, and his face was drawn and tragic, "I'ddrop the whole thing if I didn't know I was right. Two men dead--thinkof it. Why, even the newspapers are beginning to call me a cold,heartless, scientific crank, to keep on. But I'll show them--thisafternoon I'm going to fly myself. I'm not afraid to go anywhere I sendmy men. I'll die before I'll admit I'm beaten."
It was easy to see why Kennedy was fascinated by a man of Norton'stype. Anyone would have been. It was not foolhardiness. It was doggeddetermination, faith in himself and in his own ability to triumph overevery obstacle.
We now slowly entered the shed where two men were working over Norton'sbiplane. One of the men was a Frenchman, Jaurette, who had worked withFarman, a silent, dark-browed, weatherbeaten fellow with a sort ofsullen politeness. The other man was an American, Roy Sinclair, a tall,lithe, wiry chap with a seamed and furrowed face and a loose-jointedbut very deft manner which marked him a born bird-man. Norton's thirdaviator, Humphreys, who was not to fly that day, much to his relief, wasreading a paper in the back of the shed.
We were introduced to him, and be seemed to be a very companionable sortof fellow, though not given to talking.
"Mr. Norton," he said, after the introduction, "there's quite an accountof your injunction against Delanne in this paper. It doesn't seem to bevery friendly," he added, indicating the article.
Norton read it and frowned. "Humph! I'll show them yet that myapplication of the gyroscope is patentable. Delanne will put me into'interference' in the patent office, as the lawyers call it, will he?Well, I filed a 'caveat' over a year and a half ago. If I'm wrong, he'swrong, and all gyroscope patents are wrong, and if I'm right, by George,I'm first in the field. That's so, isn't it?" he appealed to Kennedy.
Kennedy shrugged his shoulders non-committally, as if he had neverheard of the patent office or the gyroscope in his life. The men werelistening, whether or not from loyalty I could not tell.
"Let us see your gyroplane, I mean aeroscope--whatever it is you callit," asked Kennedy.
Norton took the cue. "Now you newspaper men are the first that I'veallowed in here," he said. "Can I trust your word of honour not topublish a line except such as I O.K. after you write it?"
We promised.
As Norton directed, the mechanicians wheeled the aeroplane out on thefield in front of the shed. No one was about.
"Now this is the gyroscope," began Norton, pointing out a thing encasedin an aluminum sheath, which weighed, all told, perhaps fourteen orfifteen pounds. "You see, the gyroscope is really a flywheel mountedon gimbals and can turn on any of its angles so that it can assume anyangle in space. When it's at rest like this you can turn it easily. Butwhen set revolving it tends to persist always in the plane in which itwas started rotating."
I took hold of it, and it did turn readily in any direction. I couldfeel the heavy little flywheel inside.
"There is a pretty high vacuum in that aluminum case," went on Norton."There's very little friction on that account. The power to rotate theflywheel is obtained from this little dynamo here, run by the gas-enginewhich also turns the propellers of the aeroplane."
"But suppose the engine stops, how about the gyroscope?" I askedsceptically.
"It will go right on for several minutes. You know, the Brennan monorailcar will stand up some time after the power is shut off. And I carry asmall storage-battery that will run it for some time, too. That's allbeen guarded against."
Jaurette cranked the engine, a seven-cy
lindered affair, with thecylinders sticking out like the spokes of a wheel without a rim. Thepropellers turned so fast that I could not see the blades--turnedwith that strong, steady, fierce droning buzz that can be heard a longdistance and which is a thrilling sound to hear. Norton reached over andattached the little dynamo, at the same time setting the gyroscope atits proper angle and starting it.
"This is the mechanical brain of my new flier," he remarked, patting thealuminum case lovingly. "You can look in through this little window inthe case and see the flywheel inside revolving--ten thousand revolutionsa minute. Press down on the gyroscope," he shouted to me.
As I placed both hands on the case of the apparently frail littleinstrument, he added, "You remember how easily you moved it just amoment ago."
I pressed down with all my might. Then I literally raised myself offmy feet, and my whole weight was on the gyroscope. That uncanny littleinstrument seemed to resent--yes, that's the word, resent--my touch.It was almost human in the resentment, too. Far from yielding to me, itactually rose on the side I was pressing down!
The men who were watching me laughed at the puzzled look on my face.
I took my hands off, and the gyroscope leisurely and nonchalantly wentback to its original position.
"That's the property we use, applied to the rudder and theailerons--those flat planes between the large main planes. That givesautomatic stability to the machine," continued Norton. "I'm not goingto explain how it is done--it is in the combination of the various partsthat I have discovered the basic principle, and I'm not going to talkabout it till the thing is settled by the courts. But it is there, andthe court will see it, and I'll prove that Delanne is a fraud--a fraudwhen he says that my combination isn't patentable and isn't practicableeven at that. The truth is that his device as it stands isn'tpracticable, and, besides, if he makes it so it infringes on mine. Wouldyou like to take a flight with me?"
I looked at Kennedy, and a vision of the wreckage of the two previousaccidents, as the Star photographer had snapped them, flashed across mymind. But Kennedy was too quick for me.
"Yes," he answered. "A short flight. No stunts."
We took our seats by Norton, I, at least, with some misgiving. Gentlythe machine rose into the air. The sensation was delightful. The freshair of the morning came with a stinging rush to my face. Below I couldsee the earth sweeping past as if it were a moving-picture film. Abovethe continuous roar of the engine and propeller Norton indicatedto Kennedy the automatic balancing of the gyroscope as it bent theailerons.
"Could you fly in this machine without the gyroscope at all?" yelledKennedy. The noise was deafening, conversation almost impossible. Thoughsitting side by side he had to repeat his remark twice to Norton.
"Yes," called back Norton. Reaching back of him, he pointed out the wayto detach the gyroscope and put a sort of brake on it that stopped itsrevolutions almost instantly. "It's a ticklish job to change in theair," he shouted. "It can be done, but it's safer to land and do it."
The flight was soon over, and we stood admiring the machine while Nortonexpatiated on the compactness of his little dynamo.
"What have you done with the wrecks of the other machines?" inquiredKennedy at length.
"They are stored in a shed down near the railroad station. They are justa mass of junk, though there are some parts that I can use, so I'll shipthem back to the factory."
"Might I have a look at them?"
"Surely. I'll give you the key. Sorry I can't go myself, but I want tobe sure everything is all right for my flight this afternoon."
It was a long walk over to the shed near the station, and, togetherwith our examination of the wrecked machines, it took us the rest of themorning. Craig carefully turned over the wreckage. It seemed a hopelessquest to me, but I fancied that to him it merely presented new problemsfor his deductive and scientific mind.
"These gyroscopes are out of business for good," he remarked as heglanced at the dented and battered aluminum cases. "But there doesn'tseem to be anything wrong with them except what would naturally happenin such accidents."
For my part I felt a sort of awe at the mass of wreckage in which Browneand Herrick had been killed. It was to me more than a tangled mass ofwires and splinters. Two human lives had been snuffed out in it.
"The engines are a mass of scrap; see how the cylinders are bent andtwisted," remarked Kennedy with great interest. "The gasoline-tank isintact, but dented out of shape. No explosion there. And look at thisdynamo. Why, the wires in it are actually fused together. The insulationhas been completely burned off. I wonder what could have caused that?"
Kennedy continued to regard the tangled mass thoughtfully for some time,then locked the door, and we strolled back to the grand stand on ourside of the field. Already the crowd had begun to collect. Across thefield we could see the various machines in front of their hangars withthe men working on them. The buzz of the engines was wafted across bythe light summer breeze as if a thousand cicadas had broken loose topredict warm weather.
Two machines were already in flight, a little yellow Demoiselle,scurrying around close to the earth like a frightened hen, and aBleriot, high overhead, making slow and graceful turns like a huge bird.
Kennedy and I stopped before the little wireless telegraph station ofthe signal corps in front of the grand stand and watched the operatorworking over his instruments.
"There it is again," muttered the operator angrily.
"What's the matter?" asked Kennedy. "Amateurs interfering with you?"
The man nodded a reply, shaking his head with the telephone-likereceiver, viciously. He continued to adjust his apparatus.
"Confound it!" he exclaimed. "Yes, that fellow has been jamming me forthe past two days off and on, every time I get ready to send or receivea message. Williams is going up with a Wright machine equipped withwireless apparatus in a minute, and this fellow won't get out of theway. By Jove, though, those are powerful impulses of his. Hear thatcrackling? I've never been interfered with so in my experience. Touchthat screen door with your knife."
Kennedy did so, and elicited large sparks with quite a tingle of ashock.
"Yesterday and the day before it was so bad we had to give up attemptingto communicate with Williams," continued the operator. "It was worsethan trying to work in a thunder-shower. That's the time we get ourtroubles, when the air is overcharged with electricity, as it is now."
"That's interesting," remarked Kennedy.
"Interesting?" flashed back the operator, angrily noting the conditionin his "log book."
"Maybe it is, but I call it darned mean. It's almost like trying to workin a power station."
"Indeed?" queried Kennedy. "I beg your pardon--I was only looking at itfrom the purely scientific point of view. Who is it, do you suppose?"
"How do I know? Some amateur, I guess. No professional would butt inthis way."
Kennedy took a leaf out of his note-book and wrote a short message whichhe gave to a boy to deliver to Norton.
"Detach your gyroscope and dynamo," it read. "Leave them in the hangar.Fly without them this afternoon, and see what happens. No use to try forthe prize to-day. Kennedy."
We sauntered out on the open part of the field, back of the fence and tothe side of the stands, and watched the fliers for a few moments. Threewere in the air now, and I could see Norton and his men getting ready.
The boy with the message was going rapidly across the field. Kennedy wasimpatiently watching him. It was too far off to see just what they weredoing, but as Norton seemed to get down out of his seat in the aeroplanewhen the boy arrived, and it was wheeled back into the shed, I gatheredthat he was detaching the gyroscope and was going to make the flightwithout it, as Kennedy had requested.
In a few minutes it was again wheeled out.
The crowd, which had been waiting especially to see Norton, applauded.
"Come, Walter," exclaimed Kennedy, "let's go up there on the roof of thestand where we can see better. There's a platfor
m and railing, I see."
His pass allowed him to go anywhere on the field, so in a few moments wewere up on the roof.
It was a fascinating vantage-point, and I was so deeply engrossedbetween watching the crowd below, the bird-men in the air, and themachines waiting across the field that I totally neglected to noticewhat Kennedy was doing. When I did, I saw that he had deliberatelyturned his back on the aviation field, and was anxiously, scanning thecountry back of us.
"What are you looking for?" I asked. "Turn around. I think Norton isjust about to fly."
"Watch him then," answered Craig. "Tell me when he gets in the air."
Just then Norton's aeroplane rose gently from the field. A wild shoutof applause came from the people below us, at the heroism of the man whodared to fly this new and apparently fated machine. It was succeeded bya breathless, deathly calm, as if after the first burst of enthusiasmthe crowd had suddenly realised the danger of the intrepid aviator.Would Norton add a third to the fatalities of the meet?
Suddenly Kennedy jerked my arm. "Walter, look over there across the roadback of us--at the old weatherbeaten barn. I mean the one next to thatyellow house. What do you see?"
"Nothing, except that on the peak of the roof there is a pole that lookslike the short stub of a small wireless mast. I should say there was aboy connected with that barn, a boy who has read a book on wireless forbeginners."
"Maybe," said Kennedy. "But is that all you see? Look up in the littlewindow of the gable, the one with the closed shutter."
I looked carefully. "It seems to me that I saw a gleam of somethingbright at the top of the shutter, Craig," I ventured. "A spark or aflash."
"It must be a bright spark, for the sun is shining brightly," musedCraig.
"Oh, maybe it's the small boy with a looking-glass. I can remember whenI used to get behind such a window and shine a glass into the darkenedroom of my neighbours across the street."
I had really said that half in raillery, for I was at a loss to accountin any other way for the light, but I was surprised to see how eagerlyCraig accepted it.
"Perhaps you are right, in a way," he assented. "I guess it isn't aspark, after all. Yes, it must be the reflection of the sun on a pieceof glass--the angles are just about right for it. Anyhow it caught myeye. Still, I believe that barn will bear watching."
Whatever his suspicions, Craig kept them to himself, and descended.At the same time Norton gently dropped back to earth in front of hishangar, not ten feet from the spot where he started. The applause wasdeafening, as the machine was again wheeled into the shed safely.
Kennedy and I pushed through the crowd to the wireless operator.
"How's she working?" inquired Craig.
"Rotten," replied the operator sullenly. "It was worse than ever aboutfive minutes ago. It's much better now, almost normal again."
Just then the messenger-boy, who had been hunting through the crowd forus, handed Kennedy a note. It was merely a scrawl from Norton:
"Everything seems fine. Am going to try her next with the gyroscope. NORTON."
"Boy," exclaimed Craig, "has Cdr. Norton a telephone?"
"No, sir, only that hangar at the end has a telephone."
"Well, you run across that field as fast as your legs can carry you andtell him if he values his life not to do it."
"Not to do what, sir?"
"Don't stand there, youngster. Run! Tell him not to fly with thatgyroscope. There's a five-spot in it if you get over there before hestarts."
Even as he spoke the Norton aeroplane was wheeled out again. In a minuteNorton had climbed up into his seat and was testing the levers.
Would the boy reach him in time? He was half across the field, wavinghis arms like mad. But apparently Norton and his men were too engrossedin their machine to pay attention.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Craig. "He's going to try it. Run, boy, run!"he cried, although the boy was now far out of hearing.
Across the field we could hear now the quick staccato chug-chug of theengine. Slowly Norton's aeroplane, this time really equipped withthe gyroscope, rose from the field and circled over toward us. Craigfrantically signalled to him to come down, but of course Norton couldnot have seen him in the crowd. As for the crowd, they looked askance atKennedy, as if he had taken leave of his senses.
I heard the wireless operator cursing the way his receiver was acting.
Higher and higher Norton went in one spiral after another, those spiralswhich his gyroscope had already made famous.
The man with the megaphone in front of the judge's stand announced inhollow tones that Mr. Norton had given notice that he would try for theBrooks Prize for stationary equilibrium.
Kennedy and I stood speechless, helpless, appalled.
Slower and slower went the aeroplane. It seemed to hover just like thebig mechanical bird that it was.
Kennedy was anxiously watching the judges with one eye and Norton withthe other. A few in the crowd could no longer restrain their applause. Iremember that the wireless back of us was spluttering and crackling likemad.
All of a sudden a groan swept over the crowd. Something was wrong withNorton. His aeroplane was swooping downward at a terrific rate. Would hebe able to control it? I held my breath and gripped Kennedy by the arm.Down, down came Norton, frantically fighting by main strength, it seemedto me, to warp the planes so that their surface might catch the air andcheck his descent.
"He's trying to detach the gyroscope," whispered Craig hoarsely.
The football helmet which Norton wore blew off and fell more rapidlythan the plane. I shut my eyes. But Kennedy's next exclamation caused mequickly to open them again.
"He'll make it, after all!"
Somehow Norton had regained partial control of his machine, but it wasstill swooping down at a tremendous pace toward the level centre of thefield.
There was a crash as it struck the ground in a cloud of dust.
With a leap Kennedy had cleared the fence and was running toward Norton.Two men from the judge's stand were ahead of us, but except for themwe were the first to reach him. The men were tearing frantically atthe tangled framework, trying to lift it off Norton, who lay pale andmotionless, pinned under it. The machine was not so badly damaged, afterall, but that together we could lift it bodily off him.
A doctor ran out from the crowd and hastily put his ear to Norton'schest. No one spoke, but we all scanned the doctor's face anxiously.
"Just stunned--he'll be all right in a moment. Get some water," he said.
Kennedy pulled my arm. "Look at the gyroscope dynamo," he whispered.
I looked. Like the other two which we had seen, it also was a wreck. Theinsulation was burned off the wires, the wires were fused together, andthe storage-battery looked as if it had been burned out.
A flicker of the eyelid and Norton seemed to regain some degree ofconsciousness. He was living over again the ages that had passed duringthe seconds of his terrible fall.
"Will they never stop? Oh, those sparks, those sparks! I can'tdisconnect it. Sparks, more sparks--will they never--" So he rambled on.It was fearsome to hear him.
But Kennedy was now sure that Norton was safe and in good hands, and hehurried back in the direction of the grand stand. I followed. Flyingwas over for that day, and the people were filing slowly out toward therailroad station where the special trains were waiting. We stopped atthe wireless station for a moment.
"Is it true that Norton will recover?" inquired the operator.
"Yes. He was only stunned, thank Heaven! Did you keep a record of theantics of your receiver since I saw you last?"
"Yes, sir. And I made a copy for you. By the way, it's working all rightnow when I don't want it. If Williams was only in the air now I'd giveyou a good demonstration of communicating with an aeroplane," continuedthe operator as he prepared to leave.
Kennedy thanked him for the record and carefully folded it. Joining thecrowd, we pushed our way out, but instead of going down to the stationwith t
hem, Kennedy turned toward the barn and the yellow house.
For some time we waited about casually, but nothing occurred. At lengthKennedy walked up to the shed. The door was closed and double padlocked.He knocked, but there was no answer.
Just then a man appeared on the porch of the yellow house. Seeing us, hebeckoned. As we approached he shouted, "He's gone for the day!"
"Has he a city address--any place I could reach him to-night?" askedCraig.
"I don't know. He hired the barn from me for two weeks and paid inadvance. He told me if I wanted to address him the best way was 'Dr. K.Lamar, General Delivery, New York City.'"
"Ah, then I suppose I had better write to him," said Kennedy, apparentlymuch gratified to learn the name. "I presume he'll be taking away hisapparatus soon?"
"Can't say. There's enough of it. Cy Smith--he's in the electric lightcompany up to the village--says the doctor has used a powerful lot ofcurrent. He's good pay, though he's awful closemouthed. Flying's overfor to-day, ain't it? Was that feller much hurt?"
"No, he'll be all right to-morrow. I think he'll fly again. Themachine's in pretty good condition. He's bound to win that prize.Good-bye."
As he walked away I remarked, "How do you know Norton will fly again?"
"I don't," answered Kennedy, "but I think that either he or Humphreyswill. I wanted to see that this Lamar believes it anyhow. By the way,Walter, do you think you could grab a wire here and 'phone in a storyto the Star that Norton isn't much hurt and will probably be able to flyto-morrow? Try to get the City News Association, too, so that allthe papers will have it. I don't care about risking the generaldelivery--perhaps Lamar won't call for any mail, but he certainly willread the papers. Put it in the form of an interview with Norton--I'llsee that it is all right and that there is no come-back. Norton willstand for it when I tell him my scheme."
I caught the Star just in time for the last edition, and some of theother papers that had later editions also had the story. Of course allthe morning papers had it.
Norton spent the night in the Mineola Hospital. He didn't really need tostay, but the doctor said it would be best in case some internal injuryhad been overlooked. Meanwhile Kennedy took charge of the hangar wherethe injured machine was. The men had been in a sort of panic;Humphrey could not be found, and the only reason, I think, why the twomechanicians stayed was because something was due them on their pay.
Kennedy wrote them out personal checks for their respective amounts,but dated them two days ahead to insure their staying. He threw off alldisguise now and with authority from Norton directed the repairing ofthe machine. Fortunately it was in pretty good condition. The brokenpart was the skids, not the essential parts of the machine. As for thegyroscope, there were plenty of them and another dynamo, and it was avery simple thing to replace the old one that had been destroyed.
Sinclair worked with a will, far past his regular hours. Jaurette alsoworked, though one could hardly say with a will. In fact, most of thework was done by Sinclair and Kennedy, with Jaurette sullenly grumbling,mostly in French under his breath. I did not like the fellow and wassuspicious of him. I thought I noticed that Kennedy did not allow himto do much of the work, either, though that may have been for the reasonthat Kennedy never asked anyone to help him who seemed unwilling.
"There," exclaimed Craig about ten o'clock. "If we want to get back tothe city in any kind of time to-night we had better quit. Sinclair, Ithink you can finish repairing these skids in the morning."
We locked up the hangar and hurried across to the station. It was latewhen we arrived in New York, but Kennedy insisted on posting off up tohis laboratory, leaving me to run down to the Star office to make surethat our story was all right for the morning papers.
I did not see him until morning, when a large touring-car drove up.Kennedy routed me out of bed. In the tonneau of the car was a hugepackage carefully wrapped up.
"Something I worked on for a couple of hours last night," explainedCraig, patting it. "If this doesn't solve the problem then I'll give itup."
I was burning with curiosity, but somehow, by a perverse association ofideas, I merely reproached Kennedy for not taking enough rest.
"Oh," he smiled. "If I hadn't been working last night, Walter, Icouldn't have rested at all for thinking about it."
When we arrived at the field Norton was already there with his headbandaged. I thought him a little pale, but otherwise all right. Jaurettewas sulking, but Sinclair had finished the repairs and was busilyengaged in going over every bolt and wire. Humphreys had sent word thathe had another offer and had not shown up.
"We must find him," exclaimed Kennedy. "I want him to make a flightto-day. His contract calls for it."
"I can do it, Kennedy," asserted Norton. "See, I'm all right."
He picked up two pieces of wire and held them at arm's length, bringingthem together, tip to tip, in front of him just to show us how he couldcontrol his nerves.
"And I'll be better yet by this afternoon," he added. "I can do thatstunt with the points of pins then."
Kennedy shook his head gravely, but Norton insisted, and finally Kennedyagreed to give up wasting time trying to locate Humphreys. After that heand Norton had a long whispered conference in which Kennedy seemed to beunfolding a scheme.
"I understand," said Norton at length, "you want me to put thissheet-lead cover over the dynamo and battery first. Then you want me totake the cover off, and also to detach the gyroscope, and to fly withoutusing it. Is that it?"
"Yes," assented Craig. "I will be on the roof of the grand stand. Thesignal will be three waves of my hat repeated till I see you get it."
After a quick luncheon we went up to our vantage-point. On the wayKennedy had spoken to the head of the Pinkertons engaged by themanagement for the meet, and had also dropped in to see the wirelessoperator to ask him to send up a messenger if he saw the same phenomenaas he had observed the day before.
On the roof Kennedy took from his pocket a little instrument with aneedle which trembled back and forth over a dial. It was nearing thetime for the start of the day's flying, and the aeroplanes were gettingready. Kennedy was calmly biting a cigar, casting occasional glances atthe needle as it oscillated. Suddenly, as Williams rose in the Wrightmachine, the needle swung quickly and pointed straight at the aviationfield, vibrating through a small area, back and forth.
"The operator is getting his apparatus ready to signal to Williams,"remarked Craig. "This is an apparatus called an ondometer. It tells youthe direction and something of the magnitude of the Hertzian waves usedin wireless."
Five or ten minutes passed. Norton was getting ready to fly. I could seethrough my field glass that he was putting something over his gyroscopeand over the dynamo, but could not quite make out what it was. Hismachine seemed to leap up in the air as if eager to redeem itself.Norton with his white-bandaged head was the hero of the hour. No soonerhad his aeroplane got up over the level of the trees than I heard aquick exclamation from Craig.
"Look at the needle, Walter!" he cried. "As soon as Norton got into theair it shot around directly opposite to the wireless station, and now itis pointing--"
We raised our eyes in the direction which it indicated. It was preciselyin line with the weather-beaten barn.
I gasped. What did it mean? Did it mean in some way another accident toNorton--perhaps fatal this time? Why had Kennedy allowed him to try itto-day when there was even a suspicion that some nameless terror wasabroad in the air? Quickly I turned to see if Norton was all right. Yes,there he was, circling above us in a series of wide spirals, climbingup, up. Now he seemed almost to stop, to hover motionless. He wasmotionless. His engine had been cut out, and I could see his propellerstopped. He was riding as a ship rides on the ocean.
A boy ran up the ladder to the roof. Kennedy unfolded the note andshoved it into my hands. It was from the operator.
"Wireless out of business again. Curse that fellow who is butting in. Amkeeping record," was all it said.
I shot a glance of inquiry at Kennedy, but he was paying no attentionnow to anything but Norton. He held his watch in his hand.
"Walter," he ejaculated as he snapped it shut, "it has now been sevenminutes and a half since he stopped his propeller. The Brooks Prizecalls for five minutes only. Norton has exceeded it fifty per cent. Heregoes."
With his hat in his hand he waved three times and stopped. Then herepeated the process.
At the third time the aeroplane seemed to give a start. The propellerbegan to revolve, Norton starting it on the compression successfully.Slowly he circled down again. Toward the end of the descent he stoppedthe engine and volplaned, or coasted, to the ground, landing gently infront of his hangar.
A wild cheer rose into the air from the crowd below us. All eyeswere riveted on the activity about Norton's biplane. They were doingsomething to it. Whatever it was, it was finished in a minute and themen were standing again at a respectful distance from the propellers.Again Norton was in the air. As he rose above the field Kennedy gavea last glance at his ondometer and sprang down the ladder. I followedclosely. Back of the crowd he hurried, down the walk to the entrancenear the railroad station. The man in charge of the Pinkertons was atthe gate with two other men, apparently waiting.
"Come on!" shouted Craig.
We four followed him as fast as we could. He turned in at the lanerunning up to the yellow house, so as to approach the barn from therear, unobserved.
"Quietly, now," he cautioned.
We were now at the door of the barn. A curious crackling, snapping noiseissued. Craig gently tried the door. It was bolted on the inside. Asmany of us as could threw ourselves like a human catapult against it. Ityielded.
Inside I saw a sheet of flame fifteen or twenty feet long--it was averitable artificial bolt of lightning. A man with a telescope had beenpeering out of the window, but now was facing us in surprise.
"Lamar," shouted Kennedy, drawing a pistol, "one motion of your handand you are a dead man. Stand still where you are. You are caughtred-handed."
The rest of us shrank back in momentary fear of the gigantic forces ofnature which seemed let loose in the room. The thought, in my mind atleast, was: Suppose this arch-fiend should turn his deadly power on us?
Kennedy saw us from the corner of his eye. "Don't be afraid," he saidwith just a curl to his lip. "I've seen all this before. It won't hurtyou. It's a high frequency current. The man has simply appropriated theinvention of Mr. Nikola Tesla. Seize him. He won't struggle. I've gothim covered."
Two burly Pinkertons leaped forward gingerly into the midst of theelectrical apparatus, and in less time than it takes to write it Lamarwas hustled out to the doorway, each arm pinioned back of him.
As we stood, half dazed by the suddenness of the turn of events, Kennedyhastily explained:
"Tesla's theory is that under certain conditions the atmosphere, whichis normally a high insulator; assumes conducting properties and sobecomes capable of conveying any amount of electrical energy. I myselfhave seen electrical oscillations such as these in this room of suchintensity that while they could be circulated with impunity throughone's arms and chest they would melt wires farther along in thecircuit. Yet the person through whom such a current is passing feels noinconvenience. I have seen a loop of heavy copper wire energised by suchoscillations and a mass of metal within the loop heated to the fusingpoint, and yet into the space in which this destructive aerial turmoilwas going on I have repeatedly thrust my hand and even my head, withoutfeeling anything or experiencing any injurious after-effect. In thisform all the energy of all the dynamos of Niagara could pass throughone's body and yet produce no injury. But, diabolically directed, thisvast energy has been used by this man to melt the wires in the littledynamo that runs Norton's gyroscope. That is all. Now to the aviationfield. I have something more to show you."
We hurried as fast as we could up the street and straight out on thefield, across toward the Norton hangar, the crowd gaping in wonderment.Kennedy waved frantically for Norton to come down, and Norton, who wasonly a few hundred feet in the air, seemed to see and understand.
As we stood waiting before the hangar Kennedy could no longer restrainhis impatience.
"I suspected some wireless-power trick when I found that the fieldwireless telegraph failed to work every time Norton's aeroplane was inthe air," he said, approaching close to Lamar. "I just happened to catchsight of that peculiar wireless mast of yours. A little flash of lightfirst attracted my attention to it. I thought it was an electric spark,but you are too clever for that, Lamar. Still, you forgot a much simplerthing. It was the glint of the sun on the lens of your telescope as youwere watching Norton that betrayed you."
Lamar said nothing.
"I'm glad to say you had no confederate in the hangar here," continuedCraig. "At first I suspected it. Anyhow, you succeeded pretty wellsingle handed, two lives lost and two machines wrecked. Norton flew allright yesterday when he left his gyroscope and dynamo behind, but whenhe took them along you were able to fuse the wires in the dynamo--youpretty nearly succeeded in adding his name to those of Browne andHerrick."
The whir of Norton's machine told us he was approaching. We scattered togive him space enough to choose the spot where he would alight. As themen caught his machine to steady it, he jumped lightly to the ground.
"Where's Kennedy?" he asked, and then, without waiting for a reply,he exclaimed: "Queerest thing I ever saw up there. The dynamo wasn'tprotected by the sheet-lead shield in this flight as in the firstto-day. I hadn't risen a hundred feet before I happened to hear thedarndest sputtering in the dynamo. Look, boys, the insulation iscompletely burned off the wires, and the wires are nearly all fusedtogether."
"So it was in the other two wrecked machines," added Kennedy, comingcoolly forward. "If you hadn't had everything protected by those shieldsI gave you in your first flight to-day you would have simply repeatedyour fall of yesterday--perhaps fatally. This fellow has been directingthe full strength of his wireless high-tension electricity straight atyou all the time."
"What fellow?" demanded Norton.
The two Pinkertons shoved Lamar forward. Norton gave a contemptuous lookat him. "Delanne," he said, "I knew you were a crook when you triedto infringe on my patent, but I didn't think you were coward enough toresort to--to murder."
Lamar, or rather Delanne, shrank back as if even the protection of hiscaptors was safety compared to the threatening advance of Norton towardhim.
"Pouff!" exclaimed Norton, turning suddenly on his heel. "What a fool Iam! The law will take care of such scoundrels as you. What's the grandstand cheering for now?" he asked, looking across the field in an effortto regain his self-control.
A boy from one of the hangars down the line spoke up from the back ofthe crowd in a shrill, piping voice. "You have been awarded the BrooksPrize, sir," he said.