The Great Airship: A Tale of Adventure.

  CHAPTER VI

  Carl Reitberg, Sportsman

  It may be imagined that the manufacture of an airship such as DickHamshaw had been introduced to, the child of Joe Gresson's clever brain,was not the work of a day. Four months had slipped by since thateventful day on which the young inventor and his uncle, Andrew Provost,had witnessed the flight of the Zeppelin outside Hamburg, and hadaccepted Carl Reitberg's somewhat arrogant challenge.

  Nor did the trial flights of this wonderful vessel escape public notice,though, it is true, her hull was practically invisible. But the rescueof a naval party sent to help a foundered aviator was bound to bereported, so that on the very morning after Andrew and his friendsreached their hangar, the journals were filled with this new mystery,while columns, indeed, were devoted to this new airship.

  "Sensational rescue at sea by the crew of a strange airship," Dick read."Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw and a party of six men aboard a steam pinnacewere left struggling in the water owing to their craft colliding with ahalf-submerged waterplane. Who is the owner of the airship? To whatnationality does she belong? Another air peril. Ship reported to bepractically transparent and, therefore, almost invisible."

  There was quite a furore about the affair, and no wonder, since Englandwas still a laggard, and still employed her officers, capable anddashing enough themselves, in playing with toy airships--to wit, theAlpha, the Beta, and the Gamma. Other nations were pushing ahead. To ushad belonged the mastery of the sea for years, the heavier elementhemming our tight little island around. Now the lighter element was indanger of conquest by some other nation, by a nation which at any momentmight prove to be an enemy, and which, within a few hours might have herair fleet hovering over our ports, our arsenals, our war harbours, evenover London itself. Was this, then, a newcomer to add to our perils?

  "I shall make it clear at once," said Mr. Provost, with that decisionone expected of him. "I shall send a statement to the papers. You ain'tafraid of the thing being copied, eh, Joe?"

  Joe smiled at that. He was a young man of singularly few words; one readhis answers often enough by his features. He shook his head vigorouslynow, and laughed outright.

  "Afraid! no. Why should I be, Uncle? They can copy the design any time.But they can't manufacture celludine. That is my secret, yours ifanything happens to me, the British nation's whenever we care to give itto them. Send along your statement. It will calm many who feel thatanother danger threatens."

  And so the evening journals one and all contained a crisp statement fromAndrew, a statement vouched for by one of the ministers of the realm.Thenceforward, as may be imagined, the curiosity of the nation wasacutely stirred. Men walked along staring into the sky, as if expectingto see the airship. There were more taxi-cab accidents from this onecause in London that week than had happened in a similar period before.And far and wide people who were utter strangers to one anothercongratulated those they met at the news which had been published.

  "Splendid! Magnificent! We'll be able to sleep peacefully in our bedsnow," observed Mr. Tobias Jones aloud to his fellow passengers as hetravelled to the city. He omitted to mention that he never by any chanceslept badly. His fatness, his red cheeks and blushing health proclaimedthat well enough. But he was a patriot and the statement he had venturedupon, and which he repeated a dozen times that day under differentcircumstances, went only to prove his love for his country.

  Meanwhile one may wonder how it was that Joe Gresson had been able toconstruct his ship in such a short space of time.

  "Of course, the thing would have been impossible had I not had a greatdeal of the work already in hand," he told his uncle. "You see, aZeppelin can be constructed in three months, though the first modelstook a year perhaps. But you must remember that I had a complete rollingmill installed here at my works, which was able to turn out the girdersand sheets we wanted as fast as we could put them together. Then again,the bending and fitting of celludine is a different thing entirely fromthat of steel or aluminium. Moderate heat will easily make the stoutestgirder we have used bendable, while the sheets require only the gentlestpressure. Then riveting is far easier. The electric iron has saved usnumbers of hours. As for the engines, I had them by me, having takenthem from my other model. So, after all, there's nothing very wonderfulabout the business."

  But if Joe Gresson modestly thought there was nothing to comment uponand no reason for congratulations to be showered upon him, there wereothers who thought quite the opposite. Andrew was hugely delighted. Theauthorities at the War Office and the Admiralty, sceptical as ever, tookthe thing up with a decision and an energy entirely foreign to them. AndMr. Carl Reitberg narrowly escaped a serious illness.

  "What! Constructed their airship already! Rescued people at sea!Transparent! Able to hoist men into the air as if they were flies.This--this is incredible."

  He didn't say it all quite like that, for he was troubled with adistinct accent, one, too, which had stuck to him all his business lifein spite of the fact that he had spent so many years beneath theprotection of the Union Jack. He blustered, fumed, and raged, andfinally went to bed. The following day he carefully investigated hisfinancial position.

  "It will ruin me, this challenge," he declared in despair. "One hundredthousand pounds! It is a gigantic sum. I was an idiot ever to listen toAndrew Provost and his fool of a nephew. But--_himmel!_ we shall seewhat we shall see. The ship is built, that is true enough. But can shecircle the globe, and if she be able to do that, can she complete thejourney in four months and a couple of weeks, all that remain now of theagreed-upon nine months? Ah! There is many a slip. She is fast, thisship. Eyewitnesses of her flight tell me that. She takes no notice ofthe wind. But Zeppelins have met with accidents: she may too!"

  His fat little face was deeply puckered and seamed for the nexthalf-hour. In fact, Mr. Carl Reitberg was considering matters verydeeply and seriously. Then he took a sudden resolution. He donned amagnificent fur-lined coat, jammed a glossy hat upon his head, then,with a fat cigar protruding from his mouth, and wearing the idealappearance of a very rich and prosperous financier, he stepped into hismotor car and drove off to the place where the great airship had beenconstructed. Sergeant Evans himself conveyed his somewhat large andobtrusive card to Andrew Provost.

  "A gentleman to see you, sir," he said in his well-trained voice. "H-m!"

  Andrew could tell almost without lifting his eyes to the Sergeant's facewhat his private opinion was of Mr. Reitberg; for the card bore thatgentleman's name. Not that Sergeant Evans was apt to forget hisposition. He was too good and too old a servant for that. But hehappened to have served in many parts, and, strangely enough, Mr.Reitberg was known to him.

  "Ever seen the gentleman before?" asked Andrew curiously.

  "South Africa, sir."

  "Ah!"

  "Him and a crew of the same sort as himself, begging pardon, sir."

  "Humph! I've thought as much myself," Andrew muttered, though exactlywhat his thoughts were he did not divulge. Still, from the curiousmanner in which Sergeant Evans spoke, from a queer inflection of hisvoice, Andrew gathered that he had not only met this Carl Reitbergbefore, but had little good to report concerning him.

  "Long ago?" he asked laconically.

  "Twelve years come Christmas, sir; during the Boer War."

  "Ah! And my acquaintance has lasted for ten years perhaps. He was richwhen I met him, and very pleasant. Was he, er--the same, Sergeant Evans?Please speak out; don't hesitate to tell me what you know. You mustunderstand that Mr. Carl Reitberg is the challenger who declared thatthe building of this ship was impossible, and that we could notconstruct and sail her round the world in nine months. Well, we've donethe first part. We've got only to circle the world."

  "And you'll have to watch him all the while, sir," whispered theSergeant. "He's got to pay if he loses, sir?"

  "One hundred thousand pounds."

  The Sergeant let go a little whistle. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, "butwhen I knew this Carl Reitberg, same gentle
man as is waiting outside, hewas a slippery fellow. He was trading near Johannesburg, and he was inwith foreigners, spies anxious to see the British troops beaten. I knowthat, for I was one of the police corps, and we'd our eyes on him. Showhim up, sir?"

  "Certainly."

  It followed that the magnificent, if small and podgy frame of Mr. CarlReitberg was introduced to the airship, and that within five minutes,puffing heavily with the astounding wonders he saw, that same gentlemanwas seated in the saloon, staring upward through the transparent ceilingwith positive amazement written on his face. An hour later he was backin the heart of London, when, dismissing his motor, he walked somedistance up the street, hailed a taxi, and drove rapidly away in aneasterly direction. Half an hour later, perhaps, he was closeted in aback room of a grimy house adjacent to Whitechapel, with an individualwho looked the very opposite of himself. He was untidy, down at heels,even ragged, while his face with its half-sunken cheeks showed obvioustraces of excitement. It was equally obvious also that Carl Reitberg andthis individual were not entire strangers. To be precise, they had atone time been bosom companions, at the very time, in fact, whenSergeant Evans had had knowledge of them. Then they had parted, and thequeer tricks Dame Fortune plays with various individuals had resulted inCarl Reitberg gathering wealth about him, while Adolf Fruhmann hadbecome almost a pauper. And it had chanced that the wealthy and luckyman had caught sight of his old-time friend but a week before as hedrove in his lordly motor down Whitechapel. He had seen Adolf Fruhmannhovering at one of the many corners; and though he passed him thenwithout so much as a nod--indeed, shrinking back out of sight--he nowremembered the chance vision he had caught of the down-at-heels man, andwith the view of obtaining help from him sought him out.

  "But I must go carefully," he told himself, as he drove in his taxi."I'll leave the cab very soon, and then walk along the pavement. Itshall be Adolf who shall recognize me, not I him. Then it shall be hewho shall ask for help; I will give it."

  The crafty little fellow followed out this plan to its successfulconclusion. Looking the plutocrat admirably, he stepped briskly down thepavement of Whitechapel, and when he saw his man in the distance, gavevent to a grunt of pleasure. And yet he contrived matters so that it wasAdolf who, looking up as the fur-coated man passed, recognized an oldpartner.

  "Hallo!" he called, while a sulky cloud gathered upon his sickly face."Carl Reitberg of all people!"

  Now at any other time Mr. Carl Reitberg would, as we have hinted, nothave been anxious to renew an acquaintance with such a man. His wealthhad brought with it position. Carl Reitberg chose to forget his earlierdays, and the people with whom he had consorted. But now he had anobject in view, and halting at once he allowed first a look of amazementto spread over his fat and jowly face; and then a welcoming smile sethis lips apart, while he stretched out a hand to grip Adolf's.

  "You!" he cried. "Who could have thought it? And here of all places.Why, we parted in South Africa."

  "Johnny'sberg--yes; because the police----"

  "H-hush! That's done with; I've forgotten," said Carl hastily. "But--butyou're down on your luck. I haven't forgotten that we were friends then,at any rate. This place is too public for a meeting. Take me somewherewhere we can be quiet."

  And thus it happened that they were closeted in that back room in thegrimy house adjacent to Whitechapel.

  "And so you're down, penniless," said Carl, eyeing his one-time friendnarrowly.

  "Absolutely; hopelessly."

  The opulent individual who had sought this interview so craftily liftedten fat fingers to show his concern. Then he dipped with difficulty intoa waistcoat pocket, pulled out a crinkling note of the value of fivepounds, and handed it across the dirty table.

  "That'll tide you over for a little," he said. "After that----"

  "Ah! That's where the pinch comes. What am I to do?"

  "You want work?" asked Carl.

  "Well, yes. Not hard labour, mind you. The class of thing we did out inSouth Africa wouldn't come amiss."

  Whatever that task may have been one was not to hear it, for Carl heldup a fat hand instantly.

  "S-s-sh!" he said, somewhat angrily. "Least said soonest mended. Weforget South Africa. But--yes, I might find a task for you, a congenialtask. You've heard of this new airship?"

  Adolf Fruhmann looked puzzled. After all, when a man has fallen uponevil days and finds it hard to discover from where his next meal is tocome, he is not apt to betray much interest in passing events, nor hashe, often enough, spare halfpence with which to purchase journals. Butit happened that Adolf had seen an account in a paper, and since thestory had now leaked out, and it was known how Mr. Carl Reitberg hadissued a challenge to Andrew Provost and his nephew Joseph Gresson, herecollected that he had even noted the name of his one-time friend andassociate in connection with this wonderful airship.

  "Yes," he ejaculated. "One hundred thousand pounds, eh, Carl? A lot tolose if they win, and it looks as if they might do so."

  A crafty look came across his face. He leaned farther across the tableand whispered something. "Why don't you?" he asked.

  "What! Impossible! I couldn't. It would be scandalous," came the instantanswer, though Carl Reitberg's tones rather belied his words. "You don'tmean to suggest that I should take steps to--to destroy the ship?"

  He endeavoured to cast a tone of indignation into his speech now; but itseemed that Adolf knew his man well. He scoffed at that tone.

  "Why not?" he asked quickly. "If they win, you pay one hundred thousandpounds. Eh? One hundred thousand sovereigns."

  "True--but----"

  "There is no but. They must not succeed. There are others who wouldwillingly pay for the secrets of this airship, and who long to hear thatshe has been wrecked. Give me the job. Keep in the background yourself.Go down to the ship and wish them the best of success. Place yourself ina good light before them and the world. Let them believe you to be whatis known to these fools as a sportsman. Yes, that is the word. Asportsman, almost anxious to see yourself lose, and ready at any momentto pay that hundred thousand pounds. Then leave the rest to me."

  Carl Reitberg sank back upon the hard-wood chair he occupied andpondered deeply. Even Adolf Fruhmann with all his knowledge of Carl'scunning--and in former days the two associates had carried out many arascally piece of business together, demanding no little acumen andcunning--even he failed to see to the depths of Carl Reitberg. For theplutocrat had skilfully planned this meeting with one object in view,and had so arranged matters that this proposal, which he listened towith pretended indignation, and which had been hatched in his own brain,came actually from Adolf Fruhmann. To appear too ready to fall in withit would be to weaken his own position. Therefore he sat bunched up onhis chair, one fat hand over his eyes, but those same orbs closelyscrutinizing his companion's crafty features from between his own fatfingers. He remained in that position for a full five minutes, whileAdolf fidgeted and fretted. For the man was eager to undertake thiswork, a task after his own rascally heart. He had not been engaged inSouth Africa, in delving for British secrets and in selling them to theenemy without something resulting. A born schemer, those experiences hadwhetted his appetite for more conspiracy. Besides, it was a game whichpromised wealth, while it had an element of danger that appealed to therascal, for, to give him his due, he was a man of courage, a man whofaced odds willingly, and who found in difficulties and danger thestimulus that whetted his efforts and gave a zest to an undertaking.

  "Well," he demanded impatiently, "you know me by now. Have I failedbefore? There was that affair at Nicholson's Cloof. Did I fail there?Then why now? As for you, who is to learn that you are mixed up in theaffair? Go down to these people. Pass yourself off as a sportsman,and--leave the rest to me."

  Carl stirred. He took the fat hand from his face and looked at hiscompanion. "How much?" he asked curtly. "What will you do this for?"

  The remainder of their conversation was carried on in low tones and withthe greatest earnestness. Th
ese two rascals, for both were that,bargained eagerly, and it was quite an hour later before they parted.Then Mr. Carl Reitberg passed out of the house, roughly pushed aside apoor woman who begged alms of him, hailed a taxi, and drove away to hisgorgeous mansion. He left Adolf Fruhmann richer than he had been formany a day, with the promise of abundance in the future and sufficientmoney with which to carry on the plot so craftily hatched in that backroom in the grimy house off Whitechapel. The following day found themagnate down at Joe Gresson's wonderful hangar again. He was genialityitself. He had come to wish the crew and the ship a safe voyage and arapid one, and to hope that nothing might happen to arrest theirprogress or to damage the airship.

  "To my old friend, Mr. Andrew Provost," he said, "and to his wonderfulnephew, Mr. Joseph Gresson. May they return triumphant!"

  Lifting the glass of wine he had been sipping and standing up hesolemnly drank the health of the party. Then, with a cordial grip of thehand all round, he left the ship under the pilotage of Sergeant Evans.His tongue was in his cheek as he stepped on to the gangway which led tothe floor of the hangar. He turned to wave his adieus to the peopleabove, distinguishable through the framework of the vessel. And then heregarded the Sergeant with a puzzled expression.

  "Strange," he said. "I seem to know your face, to have met you before."

  "The other day, sir," came the respectful and guarded answer; "I tookyour card up to Mr. Andrew."

  "Yes, that must be the explanation," Carl told himself, and departedsatisfied. He was more than satisfied, in fact, and hugged himself inthe depths of his motor car. For the interview had gone off wonderfully.A reporter who, thanks to his own skilful arrangement, had been present,proceeded at once to write up a glowing account of the meeting, and thatevening the world learned that Mr. Carl Reitberg had been aboard theairship, where he had generously wished all the utmost success, haddrank to their health, and had shown in every way that he was asportsman. More than that, he had intimated his intention of at oncedepositing one hundred thousand pounds at his bankers', so that, in thelikely event, as he hoped, of the successful termination of the venture,Mr. Andrew Provost might claim it instantly. What could be fairer ormore magnanimous? What could be better calculated to throw dust in theeyes of the public, and, more important than all, in the eyes of thecrew of the airship? Carl Reitberg not only hugged himself as he sankback amid the luxurious cushions of his landaulette. He chuckled loudly.He rubbed his fat hands unctuously together and positively grinned.Yes, he had been wonderfully canny and successful. It remained now forthe crafty Adolf Fruhmann to carry on the conspiracy and see it to asuccessful ending.

  "Bah! Thought he'd seen me before. Didn't let on that it was out inSouth Africa," Sergeant Evans was murmuring as he entered the vesselagain. "Now if I know Mr. Reitberg he ain't up to any good. He's a foxyfellow at any time, the chap who sits at home and does the gentleman,while those friends of his carry out the scheme that he's after. Well, Ifor one will keep an eye open."

  The three days which passed after Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw added hisimportant presence to the airship were decidedly busy ones. He himselfhad his kit to obtain and friends to say farewell to. And then there wasthe victualling of the ship, a matter of great importance. All day andnight carts arrived at the hangar, and the crew of the ship, composedalmost entirely of soldiers and sailors, were engaged in piling casesupon the lift and hoisting them into the interior of the vessel.Sufficient tinned goods were taken to last the party for five months.There was fuel to be considered, and one had to remember that a journeyof the description contemplated demanded various weights of clothing,weapons, ammunition, in fact a hundred and one items. But at length,thanks to Joe Gresson's foresight and Andrew Provost's energy, they weregathered and stored in the huge storage rooms of the vessel. The hangarswung round easily with her head away from the wind, while the motorsbegan to rumble. Stationed with Joe in the engine-room Alec and Dickwatched the young inventor gently handle a lever, and looking backwardsaw the gigantic propeller reverse. The ship moved. Those wide lateralkeels running upon rollers inserted in the wide slots on either side,which were part and parcel of the hangar, began to slide gently awayfrom their holding. The ship backed slowly and surely out of her hangartill she was entirely clear. A bell sounded in the engine-room, while avoice was heard through the loud-speaking telephone. It was from Hurst,now trained to new duties, and at that moment stationed on the upperdeck, right on the prow of the vessel.

  "All clear, sir," he called. "She backed forty feet from the hangar. Allclear."

  Another bell sounded. "All clear aft," came from Hawkins, stationed nearthe propeller.

  "Then we ascend. What's the time?" asked Joe.

  "Eight thirty, sir," answered Dick promptly. "Eight thirty p.m."

  "Precisely; and the day is Wednesday?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then in one hundred and twenty-four days, less three hours and thirtyminutes from this moment, we are due to return. If we are here then, andour foreign office passport has been properly initialled, then we shallhave won the challenge. We can let her go. Stand by there! I'm going totake her up quickly. Then London shall have a glimpse of their ship, andafterwards----"

  "Yes, afterwards?" asked Commander Jackson, who had now joined them.

  Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? I myself have confidence inthe vessel. But accidents may happen. We might be delayed by thesmallest and most unexpected circumstance. We can but make the attempt."

  "And win or lose I shall be satisfied," chimed in Andrew. "Let her go."

  The motors roared. Those elevator fans within the ship whirled at agiddy rate, and at once the gigantic framework shot upward till she wastwo thousand feet above the hangar. Then Joe touched another lever. Thepropeller in rear began to sing its own strange note. The ship movedforward and that adventurous voyage had begun.

  "Starting's easier than returning," Mr. Carl Reitberg told himself witha chuckle when he read of the departure of the ship on the followingmorning and of her appearance over London. "Let 'em wait a bit. AdolfFruhmann has yet a word or so to say in the matter."