*CHAPTER VI*
*AN UP-TO-DATE CABIN BOY*
While the great, mammoth air-liner is racing like a meteor across theeastern skies, on its way to Cairo and London, it is necessary tointroduce to the reader a chirpy, little fellow called Gadget. In fact,this cute little chap, who stood a matter of four feet two inches in hisstockinged feet, deserves a chapter or two all to himself.
Now Gadget did not belong to the passengers, nor did his name appear atall in that distinguished list. Neither did he rightly belong to thecrew, except in the matter of his own opinion--on which subject he heldvery pronounced views. But he certainly did belong to the airship, andappeared to be part of the apparatus, or maybe the fixtures and effects.He certainly knew the run of that great liner, every nook and corner ofit, better even than the purser or the navigating officer.
To tell the truth, this insignificant but perky little bit of humanitywas a stowaway, who had determined, at twelve years of age, to see theworld, at the expense of somebody else. How he came aboard, and hidhimself amongst the mail-bags, until the airship had sailed a thousandmiles over land and sea, still remains a mystery. But it happened that,when the _Empress of India_ was crossing the blue waters of the Adriaticsea, on her outward voyage, there came a tap at the captain's door oneafternoon when the latter had just retired for a brief spell.
"Come in!" called the air-skipper, in rather surly tones, wondering whathad happened to occasion this interruption.
The next instant, the chief officer entered the little state-room,leading by a bit of string, attached to one of his nether garments, themost tattered-looking, diminutive, but perky little street Arab thecaptain had ever beheld.
"What in the name of goodness have you got there, Crabtree?" exclaimedthe skipper, starting up from his comfortable bunk, at this apparition.
"Stowaway, sir!" replied the officer briefly.
"Stowaway?" echoed the captain.
"Yes, sir."
"Where did you find him?"
"Didn't find him, sir. He gave himself up just now. Says he's beenhiding amongst the mail-bags. What shall I do with him, sir?"
"Tie him to a parachute and drop him overboard as soon as we are overthe land again," shouted the captain in angry tones. "I won't have anystowaways aboard my ship."
This was said more to frighten the little imp than with real intent,though the air-skipper spoke in angry tones, as if he meant what hesaid. He was evidently very much annoyed at this discovery.
"He's half-frozen, sir," interposed the chief officer in more kindlytones.
"Humph! Of course he is," added the captain. "This keen, biting windat three thousand feet above the sea must have turned his marrow cold.Besides, he hasn't enough clothes to cover a rabbit decently. Just lookat him!"
The little chap's eyes sparkled, and his face flushed a little at thisreference to his scant wardrobe. But he knew by the changed tone in thecaptain's voice that the worst was now over. He had not even heard areference to the proverbial rope's-end, a vision which he had alwaysassociated in his mind with stowaways.
"My word, he's a plucky little urchin, Crabtree!" declared theair-skipper at length, his anger settling down, and his admiration forthe adventurous little gamin asserting itself as he gazed at the raggedbut sharp-eyed little fellow.
"What is your name, Sonny?" he asked at length.
"Gadget, sir," whipped out the stowaway.
"Good enough!" returned the captain smiling. "We've plenty of gadgetsaboard the airship, and I guess another won't make much difference.What do you say, Crabtree?"
"Oh, we'll find something for him to do, sir. And we'll make him earnhis keep. He's an intelligent little shrimp, anyhow."
"How old are you, Gadget?" asked the captain.
"Twelve, sir!" replied the gamin.
"Father and mother dead, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Been left to look after yourself, Gadget, I reckon, haven't you?" saidthe skipper kindly, as he gave one more searching glance at the smallurchin, and noted how the little blue lips quivered, despite the braveyoung heart behind them.
There was no reply this time, for even the poor, ill-treated lad couldnot bring himself to speak of his up-bringing.
"Never mind, Gadget...!" interposed the skipper, changing the subject."So you determined to see the world, did you, my boy?"
"Yessir!" came the reply, and again the sharp eyes twinkled.
"Well, you shall go round the world with me, if you are a good boy.But, if you don't behave, mark my words"--and here the captain raisedhis voice as if in anger--"I'll drop you overboard by parachute, andleave you behind! Do you understand?"
The urchin promised to behave himself, and, in language redolent ofWhitechapel, began to thank the captain effusively.
"There, that will do! Take him away, and get him a proper rig-out,Crabtree," said the skipper impatiently. "I never saw such atatterdemalion in all my life."
"Come along, now, Gadget," ordered the chief officer, giving a littletug at the frayed rope, which he had been holding all this while, and,which, in some unaccountable way, seemed to hold the urchin's wardrobetogether.
This little tug, however, had dire results, in-so-far as the abovementioned wardrobe was concerned. It immediately became obvious that itnot only served as braces to the little gamin, but also as a girdle,which kept in a sort of suspended animation Gadget's circulating libraryand commissariat. For, even as the janitor and his prisoner turned, therope became undone, and, though Gadget by a rapid movement retained thenether part of his tattered apparel in position, yet his library--whichconsisted of a dirty, grease-stained, much worn volume--and hiscommissariat--composed of sundry fragments of dry crusts of breadwrapped in half a newspaper--immediately became dislodged by themovement, and showered themselves in a dozen fragments at the captain'sfeet.
"Snakes alive! what have we here?" demanded that august person, as hestooped and picked up the book. Then he laughed outright, as he readaloud from the grubby, much-thumbed title page:--
_Five weeks in a Balloon_ ... by Jules Verne.
The mate grinned too. He remembered how that same book had thrilledhim, not so long ago either. And, perhaps, after all, it was the samewith Captain Rogers.
"Where did you get this, Gadget?" asked the captain, reopening theconversation, after this little accident.
"Bought it of Jimmy Dale, sir," replied the boy readily.
"And how much did you pay for it?"
"Gev 'im my braces, an' a piece o' tar band for it, sir."
The captain ceased to laugh, and looked at the boy's earnest face. Andsomething suspiciously like a tear glistened in the eyes of the airman,as he replied:--
"You actually gave away to another urchin an important part of yourscanty wardrobe to get possession of this book?"
"Oh, it wur a fair bargen, sir. Jimmy found the book on a dust heap,but I wasn't takin' it fur nothin'. And then Jimmy never had anybraces."
"I see. Very well, you can go now, Gadget. Mr. Crabtree will find yousome better clothes, and get you some food. Then you shall report to meto-morrow. See, here is your treasured book," said the skipper,dismissing the urchin once more.
"Thank you, sir," returned the boy, pulling a lock of unkempt hair whichhung over his forehead, by way of salute. "I'll lend you the book, sir,if you'll take care of it," and the chief officer smiled as he led thelittle chap away.
So that was how Gadget became part of the fixtures and apparatus of theair liner. He was more than an adventurer, was Gadget. He might evenhave been an inventor or a discoverer, if he had met with better fortunein the choice of his parents. His sharp, young brain was full of greatideas.
In less than a couple of days, rigged out in a smart pair of overalls,which had been very considerably cut down, he was soon perfectly at homeaboard the great liner. But then he was so adaptable. As an up-to-datecabin boy, the captain declared that he never kn
ew his equal.
He became a general favourite, and in a very short space of time hediscovered more about airships and internal-combustion engines than manya man would have learnt in six months.
It was no use, therefore, to argue with the boy that he didn't belong tothe crew of the _Empress_. And it just wasn't worth while to inform himthat, as he was still of school age, he would be handed over to theauthorities, or placed in a reformatory, as soon as the vessel returnedto England. Gadget had made up his mind that he wouldn't. In a littlewhile it even became an open question whether Gadget belonged to theairship or the airship belonged to Gadget.
"I hain't argefyin' with you, I'm telling ye. This is the way it shouldbe done!" he was heard to remark to one of the air mechanics one day,after he had been on the vessel about a week. The point at issueconcerned a piece of work on which the mechanic was engaged, and Gadgethad even dared to express his point of view. The extraordinary thingwas that Gadget was right.
Ships and railway engines were all right in their way, but they were notgood enough for Gadget. Aeroplanes and airships were much more to hisliking. He was thoroughly alive and up-to-date, and though some monthsago, when this fever of world travel first seized upon him, he had morethan once considered the question of stowing himself quietly away onsome outward bound vessel from the West India Docks in London, hisfortunate discovery, and ultimate possession of that tattered copy of_Five Weeks in a Balloon_, had caused him to change his views.
Ever since reading that volume he had had no rest. Even his dreams hadbeen mainly concerning balloons and their modern equivalents, airships.
"I will see the world from an airship," he had confidently announced tohimself one day. "I will sail over tropical forests and lagoons, overdeserts and jungles."
This had been his dream and his prayer. But unlike many older folk,Gadget had left no stone unturned in order to answer his own prayer. Hehad carefully followed the newspapers (for he had earned many a shillingby selling them) for the movements of the new air liner and the openingup of the All-Red Route. And when the time had arrived for the airshipto sail, watching his opportunity the little fellow had smuggled himselfon board, and here he was, having now almost sailed around the world,crossing the Arabian desert on the homeward voyage.