Burton of the Flying Corps Read online

  IV

  Burton stood looking at the diminishing form of the steamboat. Theconstable touched his sleeve.

  "You see that gentleman there, sir?" he said.

  Following his glance, Burton saw a slim youthful figure, clad in a lighttweed suit and a soft hat, leaning over the rail.

  "Well?" he asked.

  The constable murmured a name honoured at Scotland Yard.

  "Put the case to him, sir," he added; "he can see through most brickwalls." Burton hastened to the side of the detective.

  "A man on that boat has stolen the secret of the new explosive for theBritish Navy," he said without preamble. "Can you stop him?"

  The detective turned his keen eyes on his questioner and looked hard athim for a moment or two.

  "Tell me all about it, sir," he said.

  Burton hurriedly related all that had happened. "A cable to Ostendwould be enough, wouldn't it?" he asked in conclusion.

  "I'm afraid it would hardly do, sir," replied the detective. "Yourdescription is too vague. Tall man about forty, bald, with ahand-bag--there may be dozens on the boat. It would be too risky. Wehave to be careful. I saw a notorious diamond thief go on board, but Icouldn't arrest him, not having a warrant, and nothing certain to goupon. You had better go to the police station, tell the superintendentall you know, and leave him to communicate with the Belgian police indue course."

  "And give the thief time to get rid of the stuff! If it once passesfrom his hands the secret will be lost to us, and any foreign Power maybe able to fill its shells with Dr. Micklewright's explosive. It's toobad!"

  He looked with bitter disappointment at the steamer, now a mere speck onthe surface of the sea. Suddenly he had an idea.

  "If I got to Ostend first," he said, "I could have the man arrested ashe lands?"

  The detective smiled.

  "I don't think the Belgian police would make an arrest on the strengthof your story, sir," he said. "Why, you can't even be sure your man isaboard. Arresting the wrong party might be precious awkward for you andeverybody."

  "I'll risk that," cried Burton. "It's my funeral, any way."

  "That little machine of yours is safe, I suppose, sir? It won't comedown and bury you at sea?"

  "No fear!" said Burton with a smile. "Still, in case of accidents,here's my card. All I ask is, don't give anything away to newspaper menfor a couple of days, at any rate. It's to a newspaper man we owe thewhole botheration."

  "All right, sir; I'll give you a couple of days. I wish you luck."

  Burton hurried to one of the small boats lying for hire alongside thepier, and was put on board his own vessel. He started the motor, but inhis haste he failed to pull the lever with just that knack that jerksthe floats from the surface. At the second attempt he succeeded, andthe water-plane rose into the air as smoothly as a gull. The steamerwas now out of sight, but he had a general idea of her direction, andhoped by rising to a good altitude soon to get a glimpse of her. Thewind had freshened, and time being of the utmost importance, Burtoncongratulated himself on the possession of a Clift compass, by means ofwhich he could allow for drift, and avoid fatal error in setting hiscourse. The steamer had nearly an hour's start, but as he travelled atleast twice as fast, he expected to overhaul her in about an hour if hedid not mistake her direction.

  His mind was busy as he flew. He had to admit the force of what thedetective had said. It would almost certainly be difficult to inducethe Belgian police to act on such slight information as he could givethem; and in the bustle of landing, the criminal, of whose identity hecould not be sure, might easily get away. Burton was beginning to feelthat he had started on a wild-goose chase when, catching sight of thesmoke of the vessel some miles ahead, he suddenly, without consciousreasoning, determined on his line of action. Such flashes sometimesoccur at critical moments.

  Waiting for a few minutes to make sure that the distant vessel was thatin which he was interested, he bore away to the east, instead offollowing directly the track of the steamer. It was scarcely probablethat the flying-boat had already been noticed from the deck. Hedescribed a half-circle of many miles, so calculated that when heapproached the vessel it was from the east, at an angle with her course.

  He was still at a considerable height, and as he passed over the vesselhis view of the deck was obscured by the cloud of black smoke from herfunnels. In a few seconds he wheeled as if to return on his track; butsoon after recrossing the steamer he wheeled again, and making a steepvolplane, alighted on the sea about half a mile ahead. Then with hishandkerchief he began to make signals of distress. There was aconsiderable swell on the surface, and it might well have seemed tothose on board the steamer who did not distinguish the flying-boat froman aeroplane that the frail vessel was in imminent danger.

  Signals of distress]

  The steamer's helm was instantly ported; she slowed down and was soonalongside. A rope was let down by which Burton swung himself to thedeck; and while he struggled through the crowd of excited passengers whoclustered about him, the flying-boat was hoisted by a derrick, and thevessel resumed its course.

  Burton made his way to the bridge to interview the captain.

  "I'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said. "And I'm very sorry tohave delayed you. My engine stopped."

  "So did mine," returned the captain, with a rather grim look about themouth, "or rather, I stopped them." Burton did not feel called upon toexplain that his stoppage also had been voluntary. "And I shall have topush them to make up for the twenty minutes we have lost. You would nothave drowned; I see your machine floats; but you might have drifted fordays if I hadn't picked you up."

  "It was very good of you," said Burton, feeling sorry at having had topractise a deception. "It's my first voyage across Channel. I startedfrom Folkestone; better luck next time. I must pay my passage,captain."

  "Certainly not," said the captain. "I won't take money from a gallantairman in distress. I have a great admiration for airmen; they rundouble risks. I wouldn't trust myself in an aeroplane on any accountwhatever."

  Burton remained for some minutes chatting with the captain, thendescended to the deck in search of his quarry, to be at once surroundedby a group of first-class passengers, who plied him with eager questionsabout his starting-point, his destination, and the nature of theaccident that had brought him down. He answered them somewhatabstractedly, so preoccupied was he with his quest. His eyes roamedaround, and presently he felt an electric thrill as he caught sight, onthe edge of the crowd, of a tall portly figure that corresponded, hethought, to Micklewright's brief description. The man had a round redface, with a thick stiff moustache upturned at the ends. His prominentblue eyes were fixed intently on Burton. He wore a soft hat, and Burton,while replying to a lady who wanted to know whether air-flight made onesea-sick, was all the time wondering if the head under the hat was bald.

  Disengaging himself by and by from those immediately around him, heedged his way towards this stalwart passenger. It gave him anotherthrill to see that the man held a small brown leather hand-bag. He feltthat he was "getting warm." No other passenger carried luggage; thisbag must surely contain something precious or its owner would have setit down. Burton determined to get into conversation with him, though hefelt much embarrassed as to how to begin. The blue eyes were scanninghim curiously.

  "I congratulate you, sir," said the foreigner in English, politelylifting his hat. Burton almost jumped when he saw that the uncoveredcrown was hairless.

  "Thank you, sir," he replied, in some confusion. "It was lucky I caughtthe boat."

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he thought, "What an idioticthing to say!" and his cheeks grew red.

  "Zat ze boat caught you, you vould say?" said the foreigner, smiling."But your vessel is a hydro-aeroplane, I zink so? Zere vas no danger zatyou sink?"

  "Well, I don't know. With a swell on, like this, it wouldn't be anysafer than a cock-boat;
and in any case, it wouldn't be too pleasant todrift about, perhaps for days, without food."

  "Zat is quite right; ven ze sea is choppy, you feed ze fishes; ven it iscalm, you have no chops. Ha! ha! zat is quite right. You do notunderstand ze choke?" he added, seeing that Burton did not smile.

  "Oh yes! yes!" cried Burton, making an effort. "You speak English well,sir."

  "Zank you, yes. I have practised a lot. I ask questions--yes, and venzey ask you chust now vat accident bring you down, I do not quiteunderstand all about it."

  "It was quite an ordinary thing," said Burton, rather uncomfortably.The explanation he had given to the questioners was vague; he was lothto tell a deliberate lie. "Do you know anything about petrol engines,sir?"

  "Oh yes, certainly. I ride on a motor-bicycle. One has often troubleviz ze compression."

  "That's true," said Burton, feeling "warmer" than ever. The foreignerwas evidently quite unsuspicious, or he would not have mentioned themotor-cycle. "We have excellent roads in England," he added, with afishing intention.

  "Zat is quite right; but zey are perhaps not so good as our roads inFrance, eh?"

  "Your roads are magnificent, it's true; still--what do you say to theDover Road?"

  "Ah! Ze Dover Road; yes, it is very good, ever since ze Roman times,eh? Yes; I have travelled often on ze Dover Road, from Dover toChatham, and vice versa. Viz zis bag!"

  Burton looked hard at the bag. He wished it would open. One peep, hewas sure, would be enough to convict this amiable Frenchman.

  "I have somezink in zis bag," the Frenchman went on in a confidentialtone--"somezink great, somezink magnificent,--_eclatant_ as we say;somezink vat make a noise in ze vorld."

  He tapped the bag affectionately. Burton tingled; he would have likedto take the man by the throat and denounce him as a scoundrel. Butperhaps if he were patient the confiding foreigner would open the bag.

  "Indeed!" he said.

  "Yes; a noise zat shall make ze hair stand on end. Ha! ha! Ah! youEnglish. You are ze great inventors. Your Sims, your Edvards, yourRowland--ah! zey are great, zey are honoured by all ze crowned heads inze vorld. Zat is quite right! I tell you! ... No; it is late. Youshall be in Ostend, sir?"

  "Yes."

  "Zen you shall see, you shall hear, vat a great sensation I shall make.Now it gets dark; if you shall pardon me, I vill take a little sleepuntil ve arrive. Zen!..."

  He lifted his hat again, and withdrew to a deck chair, where he proppedthe bag carefully under his head and was soon asleep.