CHAPTER XII
Carl Aboard the Biplane
There is a very old and no doubt true saying that everything comes tothose who wait, and Mr. Carl Reitberg may be said to have been one ofthese fortunate individuals. For all that he desired seemed to be aboutto be consummated.
"At last! A brilliant inspiration, really," he was telling himselfalmost at the identical moment when Joe Gresson set out from the greatairship with the Major, the Colonel, and Dick, and swooped into spaceupon his wonderful biplane. "A really brilliant inspiration. Here have Ibeen thinking and bothering and cudgelling my brains for a meansto--to--er--well, to put a stop to what might well be an astoundingtriumph for that Andrew Provost and his conceited nephew, when a suddenthought strikes me, all difficulties are cleared away, and the futurebecomes rosy."
The stout, roundabout figure of this little man who spoke English withan accent, who loved the freedom, the customs, and the institutions ofGreat Britain, and who had waxed rich and prosperous because of theprotection and many opportunities which the country or her possessionshad given him, rolled round in the deep armchair in which he was seated,while his hand groped for a cut-glass tumbler standing on an adjacenttable. The deep-set, cunning eyes saw none of the surroundingmagnificence which the walls of his smoking-room displayed; for Mr. CarlReitberg was deeply immersed, lost in thought, carried away by thebrilliance of his inspiration.
"Yes," he reflected again, "a brilliant inspiration. Here was I inLondon--or rather, to put it correctly, here am I in London--hearing onevery side tales of the airship, of her strength, of her swiftness, ofher original design, capacity, and extraordinary power; and yet there isno way of moving, no means of arresting the world tour of the airvessel, no method of--er--er causing an unfortunate accident Then, whenall seems to have gone badly for me, when, owing to my own stupidimpulse, my desire to be applauded as a sportsman, the bank holds onehundred thousand pounds which I have deposited, without power ofwithdrawal, against the day when the ship returns, then, I say,difficulties suddenly fly. It is strange how a man's brain at last hitsupon a solution."
In his delight he had begun to speak aloud, addressing his words to thefour walls of the room, to the costly pictures attached to them, to thevelvet curtains, the cigar cabinets, the table loaded with bric-a-brac,and to curios and valuables in general. In any case he had not includedthe only other occupant of the room, had never once turned his eyes inhis direction, had seemed to have forgotten him utterly. But the manthere, lounging placidly in a deep and luxurious armchair, smilingsardonically, and nursing a damaged arm which he wore in a sling, waslistening intently. Once he scowled and growled something beneath hisbreath. And now that Carl Reitberg seemed to have finished he stole alook 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 smallfortune.
"A brilliant inspiration, eh?" he asked languidly, settling himself backin his chair when he had set his cigar going. "What?"
The words brought his host back to Mother Earth with a start. To speakthe truth there was no love lost between Carl Reitberg and AdolfFruhmann, for that rascal was the other inmate of this room. The pompouslittle owner of this magnificent establishment would have ignored hisone-time accomplice had he not need of him. Now he put up with hispresence as best he could. Not that Adolf Fruhmann was of much value atthe moment; for an accident in the streets had left him with a brokenarm, much to Carl's annoyance.
"That's what I was telling you," he answered savagely. "Here are youfool enough to get an arm broken, thereby rendering yourself helplesswhen 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'dasked that taxi driver to run me down, as if I enjoyed the sufferingthat's followed. Besides, if I'm helpless for the moment, and you'vebeen fool enough to plant a hundred thousand pounds into a bank in sucha way that you can't finger it till this challenge is settled, why, it'sfor you to move, you to risk your own skin, I'm thinking."
Certainly there was no love lost between them, and if Carl imagined thatAdolf would cringe and whine when in his presence, the events of thepast 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. Fromthat squalid tenement dwelling down by Whitechapel, he had removedhimself to Carl Reitberg's luxurious mansion, and protest on thatindignant gentleman's part had no effect.
"We've just got to sink or swim together," observed Adolf, with ascornful smile when his would-be benefactor flared out at him and badehim depart. "We're old chums, don't forget that, old partners, and--andthere'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 hiswords of the sinister threat which underlay them. From the meek,half-starved, down-at-heels ruffian, he had of a sudden, once he hadbeen discovered by Carl, become a sleek, sardonic individual, sleekerperhaps for the fact that the best of London tailoring had turned himout in the latest of fashions. Indeed, in the well-dressed, or rather,somewhat over-dressed individual lolling in the deep armchair in Carl'sroom, it was hard to recognize the unkempt, unwashed rascal of but a fewdays earlier.
And his benefactor was helpless. As Carl lay back watching hisaccomplice through half-closed lids, he was bound to admit that here wasone item in which his scheme of attacking Andrew Provost had miscarried.Adolf Fruhmann had got disgracefully out of hand, and was almostunmanageable. He had picked him out of the gutter merely for a purpose,and knowing that for gold this rascal would do almost anything. And nowhe was actually afraid of the man, dared not order him away, was fearfulthat a word from him might jeopardize his, Carl Reitberg's own position.
"Well, I suppose I shall have to put up with the nuisance," hereflected, as he scowled at his companion. "After all, it will not befor long, and later, when I have made use of him, why there are ways ofridding oneself of a nuisance. Now," he said aloud, "you were askingabout 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 tosquirm, 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 ashwith one finger, and inspecting the glowing end with every sign ofapproval. "Carl Reitberg has an inspiration; his friends long to hearall about it."
"It is about the airship," began Carl, ignoring the man's words, thoughhis cheeks were purple.
"It always is," came the retort. "You dream of the thing; you think ofit by day and night. That hundred thousand pounds weighs as heavily as aton of lead."
"And rightly so," Carl answered sharply. "I was deluded, I say. I had noidea that this Joe Gresson could succeed in his undertaking, I----"
"Exactly," came the dry answer. "If you had been fully awake you'd neverhave issued that challenge. You were too cocksure, Carl. You put downthat money feeling that it was safe. Now you're doubtful. So am I.You'll lose it if all that the papers report is correct. Just fancy! theship sails across to Adrianople quicker than an aeroplane could takeyou. She hovers over the city. She rises and falls and disappears atwill. Then she heads back for England, while her wireless tells _TheDaily Flier_ all the news. If that hundred thousand pounds weremine--and some of it will be according to our agreement--why, I'd beginto get fidgety. I'd begin to dream and seek for inspirations. Well,what's yours?"
"I use the wireless also. I call up the ship. I follow the idea ofbehaving as a sportsman."
"Ah!" Adolf smiled satirically. "That cost a heap!" he said. "Well?"
"I ask to be taken aboard for this world trip. Can they refuse me?"
It was his companion's turn to show some irritation. If Carl Reitberghad the intention of accompanying the great airship on her voyage, thenit could be with one object, for there were no secrets
between these tworascals. He desired to gain access to the ship with the sole idea ofwrecking or damaging it. Very good, that! Crafty! Quite commendable.
"But there's myself to be considered. If he succeeds, what do I get?Where is the reward promised?"
The ruffian eyed Carl with undisguised contempt, and yet half fearfully.
"Clever idea, very," he said aloud. "You go aboard for the trip. Thereis, perhaps, an accident. Unfortunate, of course, but--er--necessary.You are as sorry as the others. You express a thousand regrets--but allthe while you are laughing in your sleeve. You are really thinking ofsomething far harder to give than regrets; you are thinking of your onehundred thousand pounds, eh, my friend? That is, I think, the beginningand end of the inspiration."
It was so obvious that Adolf admired the craftiness of the scheme thatCarl almost forgave him. But the next few seconds undeceived him, andreminded the magnate of the fact that he had others to consider.
"Of course," said Adolf slowly, "our bargain holds good. If--if there isan unfortunate accident, and the voyage of the airship is arrested, youreturn and pay me the sum promised."
"But----" cried Carl indignantly, his fat cheeks swelling.
"There are no buts in the matter. I am paid, or I blab. I have a longmemory, and there are other things I can mention. No, friend Carl, weswim or sink together, as I have said. You leave England. Good! I lookafter your house, your servants, and your interests during your absence.Supposing you fail--supposing this--er--accident doesn't happen, thenyou fall back on your dear friend. I seek for an inspiration. I attemptanother accident. In either case, if you are successful, or if thehonour falls to me, our bargain holds, I am paid what was promised."
It was a sordid business; but no doubt there are other rascals of thesame kidney haggling over even less unsavoury schemes in the great cityof London. But this was evident, Carl was in a corner, hoist as it wereby the very rascal he had hoped to use merely as a tool, and then tothrow away when no longer useful. It was a bitter blow, but to beendured, and he must not allow it to prevent his following the line ofaction he had suddenly decided on. He gulped down the contents of histumbler, scowled at his companion, and then stretched out for thetelephone receiver. A moment later he was dictating a telegram to bedispatched by wireless to the great airship.
"Mr. Carl Reitberg presents his warmest congratulations to Mr. AndrewProvost and his clever nephew, and asks to be allowed to accompany theparty aboard the airship during some part of their world trip. Wireplace at which ship could call."
Down in the depths of the airship, in the Marconi operator's cabin, theoperator was busily employed some few minutes later, while the aerialsabove flashed in the sun and clicked in their own extraordinary fashion.Then a paper was thrust into Andrew's hand as he paced the deck arm inarm with the Commander.
"Umph!" he said, handing it to the naval officer. "Rather spoil the funof the party. I ain't too fond of Mr. Carl Reitberg."
"But it's sporting of him, eh?" reflected the officer, now rapidlyrecovering.
"Sporting? Er--yes--that's what he aims at particularly. Sad if he wereto spoil also the ship's chances."
"But surely that's impossible--one man spoil the chances of the ship'ssuccess!"
"Well, perhaps I'm unduly suspicious. Carton, wire back that we shall bepleased to receive him, and that Joe Gresson will call for him inLondon. Then call up Joe. He's well within range of the ship's wireless,and repeat the message."
And thus it followed that while Joe, with the Major and Colonel and thederelict Frenchman on board, were coasting towards England, having oncedemonstrated to our friends the security of the biplane, the aerialsaboard that wonderful machine clicked, while the receiver told out itsmessage. An hour later, perhaps, while Carl Reitberg was snoring in hisluxurious chair, the telephone summoned him from slumber.
"Be ready to start to-morrow morning early. Joe Gresson will call foryou. Warm welcome awaits you aboard the great airship."
Carl simpered. His pig-like eyes lit up wonderfully, and for one briefmoment he wore the appearance he had borne when Joe first met him aboardthe Hamburg-Amerika liner. He was positively genial, and any old lady ofa credulous disposition happening to observe him at that moment wouldhave set him down definitely as a most engaging, kind-hearted, andsimple gentleman. And so he could have been, had he not at heart been ascheming rascal. For Carl Reitberg was that. If he had been a patriot,if he had belonged to some other country than England, and for her sakehad decided to destroy the airship with her crew, we would have recordedthe fact plainly. But Carl had no country, not even that of England,which had fostered him, protected him, even innocently aided him in someof his rascally schemes. His scheme was merely for personal objects, tosave his pocket, to win a challenge, to defeat Andrew Provost and JoeGresson, and all the while appear in the public eye as a sportsman,something understood by the people and sure to make him wonderfullypopular.
The hours that followed were busy ones indeed for Carl, and AdolfFruhmann aided him wonderfully in spite of a damaged arm. They retreatedto a garret in a street off Soho, where they remained till day wasalmost dawning. Nor did they present themselves at the place as CarlReitberg and Adolf Fruhmann respectively. No; they went disguised, usingfalse names also. What passed in that garret we need not enquire into;but this is certain: when the two rogues finally left and drove away ina taxi, there was a suspicious square box beside them.
"Gently, gently! You carry it," suggested Carl, as they stepped out ofthe cab and walked away.
"Very well; I'm not afraid if you are. The things are safe till youbegin to tamper with them. Then----"
Adolf raised his eyes expressively and sniggered. "Then there's an endto you and--and the airship," he giggled.
"H-hush, man! Are you a fool? Here! Step into this cab. We can drivestraight home now, I think."
They had dived into a side street for a moment, where they had rapidlyremoved the beards which had disguised them. Now they hailed a taxi,entered, and boldly told the man to drive to Carl's address. Thefollowing morning found the chief of these two rascals dressed for anouting. An immaculate knickerbocker suit clad his rotund proportions,while the monocle he--like the gallant Colonel--affected transformed himinto an object such as one sees at St. Moritz, one of the band of heroeswho go to look on at somewhat hazardous winter sports and continuealways to look on only.
Buzz! The telephone called him. They were speaking from his office inthe city, to which all telegrams were sent. "What's that?" demanded Carlincredulously, when he had listened to the message. "Eh! I am to driveout to Hendon, where Mr. Gresson will pick me up? Where's the airship?"
"Somewhere above Italy," came the answer. "Mr. Gresson arrived yesterdayevening in an aeroplane."
"An aeroplane! But--but--surely he doesn't expect me to--to travel insuch a thing with him!" cried Carl tremulously, much to Adolfs amusementand ill-concealed contempt.
"Why not?" he asked. "You've asked to go on a flying trip. Where's thedifference between a ship and plane? Pooh! You're a sportsman, aren'tyou? Then you've got to show spirit."
But that was just precisely the virtue of which Carl was most deficient.He could ape the sportsman, providing no physical display of couragewere wanted. He could even venture a trip in the airship, knowing nowfrom excited reports from all quarters that she was the last word insuch matters; and when the time came, and the moment were opportune, hetold himself he had the nerve to place that curious box he had justprocured in the most advantageous position, set its contents going, andthen decamp. Oh, yes, he would decamp, quickly too, to be sure! Why not?That would merely be discretion.
"Supposing there was an accident?" he suddenly blurted out, his facefallen, his features as long as a fiddle. "Supposing the box wereoverturned! Besides, I've never been in an aeroplane. Hundreds of menhave lost their lives when flying."
"A noble end for a sportsman, truly," grinned Adolf. "Let me go, then? Abroken arm will not prevent my acting."
"No; I'l
l take train to Turin. I could be there as soon as thisaeroplane," he said, almost tearfully. "Are you there? Why don't youstay at the telephone? Is Mr. Joe Gresson at the office?"
It was that young inventor himself who answered.
"Good morning!" he said curtly enough. "Glad you are coming. We leave intwo hours' time."
"But--but I am detained," cried Carl desperately. "I cannot leave then.I will catch the midday continental express and go to Turin. I shall bethere to-morrow evening."
"While we shall be beyond that city this afternoon," came the curtanswer. "We must not delay longer, for though I calculate that theairship could circle the twenty-five thousand and odd miles which a tripround the world comprises in some seventeen to twenty days, yet theremay be breakdowns----"
"Ah, yes, certainly! I hope not," said Carl swiftly.
"That's nice of you. But there may be, while we may desire to deviate alittle. Indeed our trip will not take us along a straight line. Wepropose to take an oblique course, and therefore must make the most ofevery day that remains to us. Therefore we leave Hendon almostimmediately."
"And pass Turin before the evening!" cried Carl aghast. Such rapidtravel spelled catastrophy to him. "I--I--do you expect an accident?"
"An accident?"
"Yes; to your machine. Aeroplanes are notoriously dangerous.I--I--really think that I'll not----"
"Sorry, Mr. Reitberg," came Joe's curt answer. "But we must push ahead.If you wish to join us at all you must come now, and on the biplane."
The pompous city magnate put the telephone down with somethingapproaching a groan. Indeed, his features were positively haggard, hisfat cheeks hung flaccid, his mouth drooped, his eyes were bloodshot. Hemight, indeed, have been a condemned criminal. And then Adolf's sneeringlaughter stung him to some show of courage, or perhaps it wasdesperation.
"It is the only, the last chance," he said. "I'll go. I'll risk travelin this abominable machine. Herman!"
He tugged at the bell and shouted for his butler.
"Call the car round," he ordered magnificently. "Put my baggage onboard, and--er--please be careful of this box. It's very valuable."
"In fact, there is glass inside, old curios," added Adolf, guffawing asthe man shut the door behind him. "Curios for dear Andrew Provost. Apresent from London city to the great airship! A token of love andesteem from Carl Reitberg."
The ruffian was a humorous fellow at times, and his cynical mind oftenperceived a vein of fun where others saw nothing. His confederate'snervousness, the dilemma into which he had managed to introduce himselfin his efforts to get aboard the airship provided Adolf with a vastamount of amusement, and he was sniggering still when his friend marchedponderously out of the establishment.
"_Bon voyage!_" called Adolf after him, as he stood on the steps of thegorgeous mansion, his undamaged arm tucked beneath his coat tails, acigar of Carl's most expensive brand between his teeth, and a smilewrinkling his somewhat sardonic features. "_Bon voyage!_ Have no fears.I'll look after things in your absence."
But oh that voyage! Oh the terror before starting! Carl Reitberg,sportsman, cut but a sorry figure as he shook Joe's honest hand andclambered into the cab of the biplane.
"But--but you'll never venture to rise above the ground in this?" hecried aghast. "It's not even made of steel or wood. It's transparentstuff, and looks frightfully fragile."
"Try it," grinned Dick, who was one of the party. "Ask Alec to jump onthe wings, or--oh, I know, Mr. Reitberg, try a ride on one yourself!It'd be a ripping sensation to lie out there on one of the planes whileshe was soaring."
"Brat! Conceited young midshipman! Wants kicking!" Carl thought angrily."But if they've come all the way from the neighbourhood of Adrianople,why, I suppose the machine is strong enough. Horrible it seems to me!But I must screw up my courage. Ah! He's started his engine. Whycouldn't he wait a little longer till I'd settled down. Stay stillthere, young man. We're moving, and if you get too much to one side thething will capsize once we're off the ground."
Alec regarded the trembling magnate with a pitying smile, though quitepolitely. "Oh, that's with ordinary aeroplanes, sir," he said loftily."You can't upset this. You ask Joe. We'll try, just to impress you."
"Try to upset the machine when in the air! Madness!" Carl positivelyscowled at Alec, and then at Dick, catching him grinning. Then hisattention was called elsewhere. Joe shut down his bypass valve abruptly.The propellers roared. The biplane shot forward and mounted into the airas if eager for a struggle. They were up a hundred yards before theirpassenger had had time to fasten his grip quite to his own liking on theedge of the cab. Then Joe banked her.
"Put me down!" roared Carl, scared out of his senses, for the machinehad tilted, and from his own position he could look direct to the groundbeneath. He felt the machine slipping bodily sideways.
"Got in an air hole," observed Joe calmly. "Skidding a trifle. But shecan't go far. The cross sections between the planes hold her up nicely.Up we go again, turning all the time. Hold on for a moment."
It was truly a terrifying experience for Carl, and he never quite becameaccustomed to this new form of locomotion. Even when Joe, havingelevated the machine to the height of ten thousand feet, set theautomatic gear in motion, and, lighting a cigarette in the shelter ofthe cab, went to chat with the Major, the magnate felt far from happy.
"But--but," he quavered, "leave the steering gear! Who, then, controlsthis machine? What is to prevent us being dashed to pieces?"
"Atoms, rather," suggested Dick, always ready with something likely toimprove the occasion.
"Eh?" asked Carl.
"You said pieces," grinned the midshipman. "We're ten thousand feet up.We wouldn't make jelly even if we fell. We'd be smashed to atoms."
"Horrible! Loathsome young fool!" thought Carl, groaning at the meremention of such an ending. "Anything will be more pleasant than this.When will this awful trip be over?"
Flying steadily at over one hundred miles an hour it can be reckonedthat the biplane soon swallowed up distance. In fact, late thatafternoon she was over Italy, while an hour afterwards she swooped outover the Adriatic Sea, where she sighted the airship. Not that thelatter was easily visible. But a practised eye could make her out.
"See--the airship," said the Major, pointing towards her for Carl'sbenefit.
"Ah! Yes. Then we sink to the water?"
"No--we swoop towards her and land on her deck."
"In midair! Is it--is it really safe?" asked this nervous passenger.
"As houses," interjected Dick. "Hold on, sir! Don't speak to Joe, or hemight make an error and drop us over the edge."
It was a huge, if unkind, joke to watch the twitching face of themagnate, and, as is often enough the way of youth, Dick and Alec enjoyedCarl's discomfiture immensely. But they were near the ship now. Joe senthis biplane higher, till she was two thousand feet above the air vessel.Then he banked, banked till the machine looked as if she would turnturtle. But there was a master man at the controls, and at once thebiplane dived downward, curling spirally, with her engine stopped, tillshe looked as if she would drop through the heart of the ship below her.Then the engine hummed, the propellers revolved, the biplane righted,dived swiftly, rose a yard or two, and then dropped without a quiver onthe broad back waiting to receive her.
"Welcome!" said Mr. Andrew Provost, accosting the party, and helpingCarl Reitberg to alight. "Welcome to the ship which by your ownchallenge you yourself helped to erect."
He led him to the lift, escorted him down to the gallery below, andshowed him his cabin. In fact, Andrew did all that a host who is agentleman could do for a guest. He didn't like Mr. Reitberg; he made nopretence of doing so. He was polite as a matter of course, and becauseit was good manners. But whatever he thought of this stout littlemagnate, indeed, whether he suspected the true depths of his sportinginstincts, Andrew never imagined that he had just welcomed a craftyruffian, a schemer, a mean-hearted man who, now that he was safelyaboard, would leave no stone un
turned till he had wrecked the vessel. Asfor Carl, he sat himself down by that precious box of his and mopped hisforehead.
"I've put up with a heap," he said. "Now my time's coming."
The Great Airship: A Tale of Adventure. Page 12