50 Biggles and the Pirate Treasure

by Captain W E Johns

  The Prince looked surprised and said no. Biggles then reminded him that according to the contract there was a little matter of a thousand pounds to be handed over. The Prince, full of apologies, with a smile which to Ginger looked forced, had thereupon given him a bundle of notes, which, being bulky, and as the engines were running, he stowed in a locker. The matter was not referred to again, but the incident, trifling though it was, did nothing to inspire confidence in the passengers.

  The plan outlined by Biggles was simple. The aircraft, safely down, would taxi to the far end of the airstrip and then turn ready for a quick take-off should danger threaten. It was supposed that if terrorists were about they would by that time have shown themselves.

  All being well, Biggles, Bertie, Ginger and Mr. Kling would set off for the temple, no great distance, leaving Algy and the Prince with the machine. It didn't matter which of the Kahorans acted as guide to the secret vault since both knew the entrance; but Biggles felt that one of them should be with each party in case natives were encountered.

  Conversation would then be possible. This was merely a precautionary measure to prevent trouble for the white men should local people intercept them. The idol would be wrapped in canvas and carried in slings brought for the purpose. With four of them to take the weight the manhandling of the idol

  to the aircraft should not be difficult. As soon as the idol was on board they would start for home. The whole operation, it was estimated, should not take more than an hour.

  The bend of the river, exactly as the Prince had described it, came into view, with the burnt-out village on one bank. Close by, rising above the trees, were the twin pagoda-like towers of the temple, with the usual upturned eaves and abundance of carved figures.

  The landing ground, too, was plain to see, for apart from some overgrown paddy fields near the village it was the only open area for miles. Ginger regarded it dubiously. The herbage looked lush, and secondary growth was already advancing from the jungle: but the stuff, he thought, was not yet stiff enough to upset them.

  Biggles went down to twenty feet to have a close look at it. Apparently he was of the same opinion, for having made a circuit he put the Wellington down on what turned out to be quite a good surface. He taxied right on, leaving a track of flattened grass, to the boundary, and then turned into position for a quick take-off.

  When, after waiting five minutes, no one had appeared, he switched off.

  Another quarter of an hour passed, crew and passengers watching the fringe of the jungle anxiously.

  'Okay,' said Biggles. 'Let's go.'

  With canvas and slings over their shoulders the transport party moved off, Mr. Kling leading, leaving Algy and the Prince in charge of the aircraft. In the event of trouble a gunshot would be the signal to rally on the machine.

  Jungle travel was nothing new to Ginger, who brought up the rear. The heat was oppressive, sultry and sticky. The air was heavy with the stench of rotting vegetation.

  The green world through which they moved was the usual mixture of beauty and horror.

  From the mush underfoot sprang graceful tree-ferns, groping lianas and creepers with monstrous, bloated leaves. From the trunks of trees, both living and dead, hung sprays of orchids. From overhanging branches leeches launched themselves on the invaders.

  Sometimes a butterfly or moth of vivid colouring would cross their path.

  But with these things Ginger was not concerned. He had seen them before.

  His idea was to get through it, and out of it, as quickly as possible. He kept a watchful eye open for snakes.

  In actual fact the ordeal did not last long. The forest gave way reluctantly to an open space of some size, and there, in the middle of it, stood the temple, obviously a building of great age, judging from the way the carving had weathered. Mr. Kling strode on towards it, clearly determined to get the business finished without loss of time. But as they drew nearer Ginger dropped back for a longer look at a structure which, he imagined, few white men had seen.

  Upon such minor details does so much often depend. Had Ginger not stopped

  — but he did, so speculation as to what might otherwise have happened is futile.

  He noted the door by which the others had entered the temple, and was about to hurry after them when a hoarse voice hailed him in English:

  'Hi! Wait a minute!'

  Looking in the direction from which the sound had come he was amazed to see a man, a white man, gaunt, bearded and in tattered tropical kit, jump from a window and run towards him.

  Ginger waited. 'Who are you?' he queried crisply, although he already had a suspicion.

  'Hobbs is the name. Who are you, and what in thunder are you doing here?'

  'I've come with some friends to fetch something from the temple. We've an aircraft on the strip. If you want to go home—'

  'Hold hard,' broke in Hobbs. 'Who brought you here ? ' 'Prince Yuan—'

  'He's dead. I saw his brother shoot him in cold blood. He was responsible for the mess here. He tried to get me, too, the dirty rat.'

  'Has this brother got a little scar on his chin ? ' 'Yes – why?'

  'He's calling himself the Prince. He's in our aircraft.'

  'Then keep a gun handy, for a worse thug never lived. He was Prime Minister here, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to be King, so he plugged his brother in the back. But he started something he couldn't stop and had to bolt. He pinched my Moth and took his crooked pal, Kling, with him.'

  Ginger looked shocked. 'Do you mean he can fly?' 'Sure he can fly. Learnt to fly in England. He was educated there.'

  Ginger began to see daylight. It was clear now how the man calling himself Prince Yuan had got into England. 'He seems to have plenty of money,' he observed.

  'Not he. He rifled the treasury but there was mighty little in it. What's he come back for, anyway?'

  'An ivory idol.'

  'I might have guessed.'

  'He said it had no intrinsic value.'

  'He always was a liar. The eyes of that idol are rubies the size of bantams' eggs.'

  Ginger caught his breath. He had suspected a plot, but nothing like this.

  'Kling has just gone into the temple with my friends to get the idol.'

  'If he sees me he'll know the game's up, so watch out for trouble. I wonder what's inside the idol.'

  'Inside it ? '

  It's hollow – bound to be. Built up of pieces. No elephant ever grew a tusk that size. It's a masterpiece. I haven't lived here all my life without learning a few things about it.

  Years ago it was human sacrifices they put inside, but—'

  'Never mind that now,' interrupted Ginger urgently. 'I must warn my chief. Make for the landing ground, and when I come back watch for signals. You're coming home with us, so we look like having a show-down on the spot.'

  'Suits me,' grunted Hobbs, and strode towards the jungle.

  Ginger ran on, to meet the others just coming out with the idol swathed in canvas.

  'What are you playing at ? ' shouted Biggles angrily. 'I didn't bring you along to watch.

  Lend a hand. This thing weighs half a ton.'

  'Then put it down and have a breather,' answered Ginger meaningly, catching his eye. '

  Come over here. I want to speak to you.'

  Biggles walked over to where Ginger stood waiting. 'What goes on ? ' he asked quietly.

  'Hold your hat,' Ginger told him grimly. 'You've some shocks coming. Our precious prince is an impostor. and Kling murdered Prince Yuan and touched off the revolution.

  They rifled the treasury, tried to kill Hobbs, and pinched his Moth to make a get-away. That skunk in the Wellington can fly. Think that over.'

  Biggles looked shaken. Then his face set in hard lines. `Who told you this ? '

  'I've seen Hobbs.'

  'Where is he?'

  'On the edge of the airfield waiting for a signal from us.' 'Let's get along,' said Biggles tersely. Ì'll think this over on the way.'


  They rejoined the others, and taking up the load continued on to the airfield. Not a word was spoken. Sweat streamed from their faces, for the idol was heavier than had been suggested.

  On arriving at the aircraft, which stood as they had left it, the two occupants got down to greet them. As the canvas-wrapped idol was lowered gently to the ground in its natural sitting position the cover slid off, revealing a flat face smiling an inscrutable smile, a round body and hands resting on knees. The eye sockets were empty holes.

  'Let's get it on board and away,' said Kling sharply. 'This place is dangerous.'

  Biggles took a pace back. His hand went casually into a side pocket.

  'Just a minute,' he said. 'We're taking an extra passenger with us.'

  The man who had called himself Prince Yuan started. 'A passenger! Who is he?'

  'Fellow named Hobbs,' answered Biggles evenly. 'You told us about him.

  Remember?'

  Ginger could feel the atmosphere stiffening. He raised a hand, beckoning, then put it back in his pocket. Hobbs emerged from the jungle and walked forward. `So he stayed here,' said the Prince in a thin, hard voice.

  'He had to, since you stole his machine,' returned Biggles calmly.

  Hobbs came up, his eyes glinting dangerously as they went from one schemer to the other. They switched to the idol and then back. 'Been busy with your knife as usual, I see,' he sneered.

  'Take it easy, Hobbs,' said Biggles, quietly.

  'Thanks to these two beauties I've been taking it easy long enough,'

  rasped Hobbs. '

  Having set the country afire they've the brass face to come back and lift the one holy thing left in this unholy country. What's inside it, I wonder ? ' Before anyone could stop him he had seized the right arm of the idol and raised it high. Instantly a door in the back flew open disclosing a filling of what appeared to be brown bricks, some of which fell out. A peel of mirthless laughter broke from his lips. 'Dope,' he cried. 'I ought to have guessed it. Enough opium to dope—'

  He jumped sideways as the 'Prince' whipped out an automatic. Two shots crashed as one.

  The Prince crumpled from the knees and slumped forward on his face. Kling was running for the jungle, but Hobbs turned the smoking muzzle of his revolver on him and fired three shots. The third found its mark. Kling pitched forward and lay still.

  'You shouldn't have done that, Hobbs,' snapped Biggles.

  'That's where you're wrong,' answered Hobbs casually, pocketing his gun.

  'They had it coming. Never mind what they tried to do to me, Prince Yuan was a fine man, and a particular friend of mine. This is my best day's work for a long time. You can do what you like about it now as far as I'm concerned.'

  There was silence while Biggles examined the fallen men.

  Returning, he announced that both were dead. 'I wonder what they intended to do,' he muttered.

  'I'll tell you,' answered Hobbs. 'If you'd got into that plane you'd never have come out of it alive. You'd have been shot dead without knowing anything about it. Your passenger would have taken over the controls and gone to some place he had in mind with enough dope and wealth to last him the rest of his life.'

  'Wealth?' queried Biggles.

  'Were you with Kling when he entered the vault?'

  'No. He went in alone to confirm the thing was still there.'

  Hobbs smiled cynically. 'I'll show you what he went in for.' Walking over to Kling he went through his pockets. Returning, he handed to Biggles two enormous rubies.

  reckon that when a man sinks low enough to poke out the eyes of his god he can't go much lower,' he remarked coldly.

  'What beats me is this,' said Biggles. If the fellow was a pilot why did he come to me?'

  'He wanted a plane.'

  'He could have got one. He'd plenty of money.' 'Who says so.'

  'He paid me a thousand pounds at the start.'

  'In notes?'

  'Yes.'

  'Have you looked at them?'

  'No.'

  'You'd better.'

  Biggles fetched the wad, and looking chagrined peeled a single ten pound note from a mass of tissue paper. 'So that was why he waited until the engines were ticking over before he coughed up. He gambled I wouldn't stop to count it.'

  'What are you going to do with this ? ' Hobbs inclined his head towards the idol.

  'Leave it where it is. I'm taking no chances by putting it back in the temple.'

  'If the natives caught you with it they'd skin you alive.'

  'That's what I was thinking. No doubt they'll find it and put it back.

  We'll take the dope with us and drop it in the jungle as we go home.'

  'What about the rubies ? '

  'They'll be safe in the Bank of England until a rightful authority claims them. No use leaving them lying about loose here. Let's get along. The sooner I'm out of this the more comfortable I shall be.'

  Ten minutes later the Wellington was in the air on a course for home. On the abandoned airfield the ivory god, still smiling inscrutably, stared at the jungle with sightless eyes.

  BIGGLES BUYS A WATCH

  Detective Air-Inspector Bigglesworth, walking briskly down the Strand towards his office at Scotland Yard, pulled up as a hand fell on his arm.

  Turning, his eyes opened wide and a smile parted his lips as his gaze fell on a man resplendent in a purple and gold uniform. 'Well, well,' he exclaimed. 'If it isn't Flight-Sergeant Crane. Nice to see you again after all this time. How's life treating you, Flight-Sergeant ? '

  'Oh, not so bad, sir,' was the cheerful reply. 'Seems a long while since we sweated together under those bloomin' palms in North Africa.'

  'It does indeed,' answered Biggles. 'I see you're out of the Service.

  What are you doing now? That's some nice bright plumage you're wearing.'

  The ex-airman jerked a thumb. 'I'm doorkeeper at the big stores down the road.'

  After chatting for a few minutes about old times Biggles was about to walk on when the N.C.O. said: 'Oh, by the way, sir, I suppose you don't happen to want to buy a watch?'

  Biggles' face expressed surprise. 'Not particularly. Why? Have you got more than you want?'

  Crane smiled sadly. 'A smart guy worked one on me the other day.' As the airman spoke he unstrapped from his wrist a nice-looking watch, obviously new. 'It's a good job,' he declared. 'Keeps right time, and all that, but I can't afford watches at five pounds a go.

  You can have it for what it cost me.'

  Biggles examined the watch. 'It looks all right.'

  'You couldn't buy it for a fiver at the shop,' asserted the Flight-Sergeant.

  'How did you get it ? '

  `Well, sir, it was like this,' explained Crane. 'About a month ago, one Saturday evening just before closing time, I was on my job when who should come along but McDew - you remember, that flashy, red-headed corporal rigger at Karga Oasis in the war? You had him posted as a no-use scrounger.'

  Biggles nodded. 'I remember the fellow. Bad type.'

  'Well, he told me the tale. Just got to London and had his pocket picked, he said. The banks were shut of course, and there he was, no pals and nothing to live on till Monday morning. Would I lend him a flyer? I ses not likely. So he ses I'll leave you my watch for security. It cost ten pounds so you're safe. I'll be back for it on Monday, don't you worry.

  I ses fair enough. I give him the fiver and he gives me the watch. Did he come back for it on Monday? No. Nor any other day. After about a week I ses to myself, you fool, you let him sell you a watch. It's a good watch, mind you, but I don't happen to want it.'

  Biggles laughed. 'He took you to the cleaners all right. Still, I won't see you stuck with it.

  I'll have it.' He paid over the money, and after warning Crane to be more careful went on his way.

  Passing a jeweller's shop an idea struck him. He went in and put the watch on the counter. 'Would you mind telling me how much that watch would cost, new ? ' he asked.

  The jewe
ller examined the watch. 'It would cost between ten and twelve pounds, according to the class of shop,' he stated.

  'How much would you give me for it ? ' asked Biggles.

  The man picked up the watch. 'I won't keep you long,' he said, and retired to a back room. It was some minutes before he returned. 'Sorry,'