by W E Johns
'Quite,' replied Biggles evenly, 'but there were several urgent things I had to do. You can't really complain though, because I've come back again, as you see.' He had been talking solely to gain time to think, and hardly knew what he was saying. His brain was working at feverish speed, trying to find a loop-hole of escape, but there was none. To employ force, unarmed as he was, against three armed men, could only end one way in real life, although it sometimes works out differently in the films.
'Yes, I'll take care of you this time,' sneered Darton. 'You talk too much, that's your trouble.'
'So do you. Stick your hands up and keep them there. I'll drop the first man who moves!'
The words, in a shrill treble, but hard as steel, cut through the room like a trumpet call; they came from the direction of the window, which was now open. Biggles had not seen it open; neither had the others; they had all been intent on the dramatic scene being enacted in the room. Even Biggles was shaken to the core and he could only stand and stare. At the open window, his head just above the sill, was Ginger. His right arm was thrust forward into the room, the hand gripping a squat automatic.
Blackbeard's burst of laughter broke the tension; it was clear that none of them took the matter seriously.
'Why that's the little swine who burst my shins,' roared Darton, and swung up his revolver.
There was a deafening roar and a streak of orange flame leapt across the room; it began at the window and ended at Darton's chest. The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning cordite. In the silence that followed, Darton turned slowly towards the others, a curious expression of inane surprise on his face. His lips twitched once, twice, and then he crashed face downwards on to the wooden floor.
'I warned you,' came Ginger's voice in a high falsetto, 'the next man who moves gets his. Come on, Biggles, what are you standing there for?'
Biggles crossed the room in a bound, snatching up the fallen man's revolver on the way, and dived through the window to the street.
'Keep your distance,' he told Blackbeard, 'I should be sorry to have to shoot you.' Then, with Ginger at his side, they sprinted for the forest.
They were only just in time, for the shot had been heard, and people were running up the main street towards the house. Luckily, the forest lay in the opposite direction.
'Keep to the track until we reach the siding,' Biggles panted as they ran on. 'It will be as black as pitch under the trees.'
Shouts came from the direction of the town; a whistle blew, and there were more shouts. 'Here we are,' he went on a few minutes later as they reached, the place where they had boarded the train. 'We shall have to take to the forest here. It will be hard to keep straight, but we shall have to do our best.'
'Biggles,' gasped Ginger.
'Yes, what's the matter?'
'Did I – have I killed him?'
'I don't know.'
'I felt awful – I didn't know it was loaded.'
'What! Do you mean to say you had the cheek to try and hold up the party with an empty gun?'
'That's what I thought. It was that chap's gun, too; you remember I picked it up that day we set fire to the house. I fired six shots that night, and I thought that was all it held – that's why they call 'em six-shooters.'
'Those are revolvers. Automatics hold up to a dozen, but seven is quite common.'
'There must have been seven in mine. When he pointed his revolver at me I was so scared that I pulled the trigger of mine. I thought it was his gun that had gone off till I saw him fall.'
'Well, he asked for what he got so I shouldn't worry about it,' replied Biggles shortly. 'He would have shot you, anyway. It seems to me that a fellow who pulls a gun on another chap can't complain if he gets shot himself.'
'But I hope—'
'Save your breath,' Biggles told him, 'you got me out of a nasty jam, that's the most important thing. What have you got in your hand?'
'A case I found in one of the huts. I thought there might be some information in it worth having.'
'Jumping mackerel!' Biggles looked at him in amazement. 'You certainly do think of things,' he muttered. 'Where did you get it?'
'Well, you see I was pretty worried when I discovered that the train had taken you away. The chap on the horse went off soon afterwards and I got back into the wood. I went back to the tree with the broken branch, but you weren't there, so I thought I'd better see if I could find you. As soon as it was dark I went down to those wooden huts and places and hung about there for a long time, but I couldn't see a sign of you. Then I started exploring a bit closer. The first hut I came to was a big place with maps all over the wall – I had a squint through the window. There were a lot of men in it, including the chap I shot and the other two. Then they all got up as if they were going and I saw one of them, the fellow who had done most of the talking, put some papers in a bag and put it on a shelf. Then they all went out. I slipped in and got the bag after they had gone, and then went down the back of the buildings, looking in the windows of those where there were any lights; that's how I saw you in the room with those three chaps. I could see how you were fixed too, so I thought I had better do something about it.'
'You certainly did that,' replied Biggles grimly. 'I'll buy you an aeroplane one of these days for pulling me out of that scrape. Steady now, mind your head on that branch. There's the lake on the right, that gives us our bearings. Hark!'
They stopped to listen. From different parts of the forest behind them came shouts and sharply given orders, but they were some distance away.
'It sounds as if they're going to try and find us, but we got a good start,' went on Biggles. 'We shall have to get out of this place before morning though. They'll comb every inch of it tomorrow now that they know we're here. If they do they'll find the Vandal, so we shall have to get off at the first crack of dawn. The bigger the distance we put between this place now and ourselves the better.'
'If they catch me, knowing that I've bumped off that guy—'
'They're not going to catch us,' Biggles assured him with a conviction he was far from feeling. 'We can't be very far away from the Vandal now. Ah! Here comes the moon; that's better. Yes, we're right, I remember those two holly bushes.'
Fortunately it was fairly open under the trees, and they made good progress, so it was not long before the open country loomed up beyond the edge of the forest.
'Here we are,' announced Biggles. 'Half a minute though – that's funny.' A cold hand seemed to catch his heart as he looked around the glade. Beyond all doubt it was the place where they had left the Vandal, for they could see the wheels' tracks in the loose pine needles, but the amphibian was no longer there. 'She's gone!' he cried hoarsely.
'You've sure said it,' agreed Ginger calmly.
Biggles sat down on the stump of a fallen tree. 'This is something I didn't bargain for,' he said quietly.
Chapter 10
Smyth Explains
'MAJOR BIGGLESWORTH!'
Biggles jumped as if he had been shot; the words seemed to come from the air, and the voice that uttered them seemed strangely familiar.
'Hullo yes, who's that?' he answered sharply, grabbing Ginger by the arm and hurrying to the side of the clearing ready for instant flight.
'It's all right, sir, it's me, Smyth.' There was a movement in the branches overhead, and they stared upwards. 'Just a minute, sir, I'm coming down,' went on Smyth, and presently he appeared, brushing dead twigs and pine needles from his face and hair.
'What in the name of heaven has happened?' asked Biggles quickly. 'Where's the machine – and where is Mr. Lacey?'
'He's gone, sir – they've both gone.'
'Gone! Where?'
'I'll tell you all about it, but we'd better not stay here; it isn't safe. Some soldiers have already been here.'
'Soldiers!'
'Well, they looked like it; they were either soldiers or glorified policemen. Can we find a place to hide while I tell you about it'
'Let's go back
to those holly bushes,' suggested Biggles. 'I'm not very happy about it as a hiding place, but I know of nowhere better.'
They hurried back to the place he had named, and in the inky black recesses of the hollies Smyth told his Story.
'You'd been gone about an hour, I should think it would be,' he began, 'and we were keeping a strict watch when we saw some machines on the horizon. They flew up and down for a bit and then they disappeared. About ten minutes later another lot came along from a different direction – three of them. We didn't pay much attention at first, except to take a general look as we should at any aeroplane. They were flying very low, under a thousand feet I should think, and about a quarter of a mile apart. Every now and then they turned and went back in the direction from which they had come, but a bit to one side of their original course; then they'd turn again and come back. We watched them for a bit, wondering what the dickens they were doing, and then Mr Lacey said, "Those fellows are looking for something, I wonder what it can be."
'It's funny, but it didn't strike either of us that time what they were looking for. They were working back towards us, on another beat, in a manner of speaking, when Mr Lacey jumped up and said, "What fools we are; they're looking for us." There was nothing we could do except sit still and hope they wouldn't see us, but it was no go. We'd covered the machine up pretty well, as you know, and I don't think anyone would have noticed it from the air in the ordinary way; but these fellows were deliberately looking, and covering every inch of the ground. They were two-seaters and I could see the fellows in the back seats leaning over the side. I saw one of them spot us as clear as daylight. By a bit of bad luck he had come smack over us. He was looking straight down on us and I saw him turn and tap his pilot on the shoulder, and then point. They came roaring down to about fifty feet, and I don't mind telling you we lay flat, thinking perhaps they were going to start bombing us; thank goodness they didn't. The chap who had seen us must have been in touch by wireless with the others for presently they all came circling over us, and then they turned and made off.
'Mr Lacey got into a rare state after they had gone. He said, "Those machines were making a systematic search for us, and they are not the only ones, I'll be bound. They've got wireless and they'll send an armed guard straight to this spot; we shall have to get out of it." "What about Major Bigglesworth and Ginger?" I said. Well, he sat down on that tree where you sat a minute ago and stared at the ground. "I'm dashed if I know what to do for the best," he said. "If we stay here they're bound to find us and collar the Vandal, and then we're sunk; there's no getting away from that. Yet if we take the machine away, how on earth can we let the others know what has happened; what will they do when they get here?"
'Well, it was a nice problem, as you can understand, sir. We talked it over. First we thought of taking the machine away, leaving a letter for you to say what had happened. Then we saw that wouldn't do, because if we left the letter in a conspicuous place the other people would find it when they came, and know all about it. If we put the letter where they couldn't see it, you wouldn't know it was there. Anyway, after a lot of ideas that we didn't like, we decided that the only thing to do was to split up, him taking the machine to a safe place, and me staying here to tell you what had happened. So he took off, and it was a good thing he did, for he hadn't been gone many minutes when I heard a crowd coming. I shinned up a tree and watched.
'There must have been about twenty of them, all in uniform, and they kicked up a rare old row when they found the machine had gone; they could see where it had been, of course, by the wheel marks. The chap who seemed to be in charge went to the edge of the wood and stared up at the sky for about ten minutes; then he gave it up as a bad job I suppose, for he pushed off, leaving a couple of men on guard. Just before it got dark, a fellow came along on horse-back and gave them fresh orders I fancy, for they all went away together. I wasn't sorry either, I can tell you, for I was getting pretty stiff up my tree. I hung about keeping watch, and I got back up the tree when I heard you coming, in case it wasn't you.'
Yes, but where has Mr Lacey gone and what is he going to do?' asked Biggles impatiently. 'They're searching the forest for us now, and they'll comb it from end to end as soon as it is daylight. Quite apart from the machine, they know that two of us are here, anyway.'
'How?'
'They've seen us. I haven't time to tell you about it, but they're after us. We managed to give them the slip in the dark, but I doubt if we can hang out very long in daylight. What did Mr Lacey say he was going to do?'
'He said he'd push off to that small lake we passed on the way here, and stay there until morning. He's coming back as soon as it is daylight to pick us up at the northern extremity of this lake.'
'I suppose it was the best he could do in the circumstances, but this all sounds a crazy business to me. We hadn't very much petrol as it was, and if he goes tearing about the sky looking for somewhere to land, he'll run out altogether, and then we shall be in a nice mess. The idea of landing anywhere on this lake makes me go cold. With the whole crowd looking for us I don't see how it can be done without us being seen.'
'But he wasn't to know that,' put in Ginger. 'I don't see what else he could do.'
'No, I suppose you're right,' admitted Biggles, 'but I wish he'd arranged some other landing place.'
'I don't suppose he knew of one; he wouldn't be such a fool as to land on this very spot again, knowing that it was certain to be watched.'
'He didn't like the idea of coming down on land,' put in Smyth. 'He said, "If I run into a tree stump or something bang goes the whole works." That's why he decided to come down on water, which he reckoned was the only safe thing to do. At one time we thought of asking you to try and reach the other lake on foot'
'Well, it's no use wondering what we might have done or should have done; we know what we have got to do, so let's do it. We'd better start working up towards the northern end of the lake.'
Crack! The whip-like report of a rifle shot, not very far away, made them all jump. It was followed by a shout, which in turn was followed by others.
'Yes, it's high time we were moving;' went on Biggles crisply, 'they're beating the forest for us, and they're shooting first and asking questions afterwards by the sound of it. Indian file, and take it slowly, but we must be in position by the time Algy lands. He won't be able to hang about waiting for us.'
With Biggles leading they set off towards the lake, and on reaching it turned towards the north, keeping the lake always in sight. It was a march that was to live in their memories for many a day. The moon came out from behind a cloud, and made things easier, but it flung curious shadows that often made them freeze into immobility until they were satisfied that the suspicious object was not a human being. Once, a water fowl rose up with a whirr of wings from under their feet, and brought their hearts into their mouths; but it served a useful purpose, for a voice spoke sharply from somewhere just ahead on their line of march. They just had time to crawl under some bushes and throw themselves flat when a crashing in the undergrowth warned them that someone was approaching. A moment later a man appeared at the water's edge, with a rifle held at the ready. He walked slowly towards them looking to right and left, and came to a stop not twenty yards away. Another voice called out from somewhere quite close, and the man answered, but they could not understand what he said. Shortly afterwards, to their infinite relief, he walked back in the direction from which he had come.
Ginger drew a deep breath. 'Say!' he breathed, 'this is giving me the heebie-jeebies; what are we going to do?'
'We're going on because it's no use going back,' muttered Biggles.
'The place is alive with people,' whispered Smyth.
'We can't help that. If anyone sees us we shall have to make a bolt for it; if they start shooting, I'll show them that two can play at that game. If I have to stop you two keep on and I'll follow as fast as I can.'
'I've got a gun, too,' whispered Ginger.
'You keep
it in your pocket; I shall feel safer. I don't think you've any ammunition left, but I don't want the back of my head blown off in the dark,' Biggles told him curtly. 'Come on.'
Almost at once they came upon an open lane, or drive, that had been cut through the forest. Biggles held up his hand, dropped on all fours, and crawled towards it with infinite care. He moved his head for-ward towards the edge of the cutting, looked both ways quickly, and then rejoined the others. He caught Ginger by the wrist and pulled him down until his ear was level with his mouth. 'Two men – twenty yards away,' he breathed. He did the same to Smyth. 'Don't move an inch,' he warned them. 'Crack a twig now and we're done.'
'Follow the lane until we come to a turn, then we can cross,' suggested Ginger, in an almost inaudible whisper.
Biggles shook his head. 'No use,' he said. 'The lane runs straight down to the water; we can't cross without being seen. We must wait.'
They sat still, hardly daring to breathe, for what must have been half an hour, but it seemed like hours, and still the men showed no signs of moving. Biggles began to get anxious. 'We shall have to risk it,' he whispered at last. 'We daren't waste any more time. It's two or three miles to the end of the lake, and it will start getting daylight presently.'
'Let me try something,' suggested Ginger. T know a trick that may work. It's risky; that's why I haven't suggested it before. The second you hear a crash in the bushes dart across. Don't wait, it has to be done like lightning.' He took his automatic from his pocket by the muzzle, fondled it a moment regretfully, and then, before the others were aware of his intention, he stepped into an open space and hurled it far into the air in the direction of the sentries. For perhaps five seconds, long enough for Biggles and Smyth to think he had taken leave of his senses, there was silence, and then a crash of twigs, followed by a thud as the weapon fell to the ground well beyond the sentries.
The moment it had left his hand he had dropped into the position of a sprinter at a starting post, and the others, suddenly understanding, did the same. While the echoes of the crash were still in their ears, they darted across the open space to the black shadows beyond, and lay motionless wherever they happened to alight.