The Great Airship Part 38

How the cunning rascal had schemed it all out. Whatever he proposed to do now he reckoned would render the great s.h.i.+p helpless, and would wreck her. But not on the instant. No. He was not attempting desperate methods such as Carl had chosen. The s.h.i.+p would be helpless, and become a wreck in time, but her wireless would enable some steamer to be called before the last fatal moment.

"It's grand and so easy," Fruhmann gurgled. "Now, we remember the description. There's a large valve on the left of the engines. That empties the water tanks. But we're on the other side, and the valve just here sets free the paraffin. It drains their tanks, runs away with the fuel supply of the engines, empties the radiators, and taps every drain from the hydraulic distributors. In fact, just this little, gentle turn makes her as helpless as a child, robs her motors of power and lets the breeze play goodness knows what with her. How very simple!"

The villain, smiling at his own cleverness, steadily turned the lever controlling that valve and heard on the instant the gurgle of fluid running swiftly through the open orifice. Then he crept to the ladder, clambered it cautiously, and faced for the men's quarters. It was at that precise moment that a hand was laid heavily on his shoulder.

"You're a slinkin', mean-faced, scheming hound," came in gruff tones from no less a person than Hawkins. "I was took in with yer tales at first, I own I was, took in nicely. But I'm all alive-o now, and don't you forget it. Here's just a sample of what'll happen."

He gave the man a terrific buffet, a buffet which sent him giddily against the wall of the gallery, while it awakened the sleeping mechanic. "You just look lively and turn down that paraffin valve," sang out Hawkins, "and next time you wants to sleep call in a mate ter relieve you. Now, you, I'm a goin'----"

Precisely what the angry Hawkins proposed to do there is no saying. But Adolf Fruhmann had no intention of giving him the opportunity. To give this rascal his due, he had courage, a greater store than possessed by Carl Reitberg. And now that he was taken in the midst of his attempt, and saw prison before him, he formed the desperate resolve of fleeing.

"Get to the liftway and keep 'em off," he told himself swiftly. "Yes, there's an aeroplane up there. You press a lever and the machine rises to the deck. A b.u.t.ton sets the engine going. You can't upset. It's safe, safer than staying here. I'm off to try it."

He broke away from the sailor and went racing along the gallery. A moment later he was at the liftway, where, guided by his memory of what Carl had told him, he stepped upon a platform and touched a b.u.t.ton. But that action was disastrous. A piercing shriek instantly awoke the sleepers aboard the airs.h.i.+p. For Adolf Fruhmann, adventurer and scoundrel, had for all his cleverness made one vital error. He had stepped upon the wrong platform. That b.u.t.ton which he had pushed released the well through which that twirling lift was wont to descend beneath the vessel. It opened with a sudden clatter, and in one second the ruffian who had hoped to wreck Joe Gresson's fine vessel was precipitated into s.p.a.ce. Nor could he be discovered when the searchlights were turned upon the surface of the Atlantic.

"Then forward!" cried Joe, "and let us be thankful for such a deliverance."

"Forward!" repeated Andrew. "Surely no further dangers can threaten this vessel."

"None," declared the Major. "You may say that we're almost in home waters already. Let's ask the engineer to put on speed. It would be nice to lunch to-morrow over Old England."

But it was early morning two days later when d.i.c.k sighted the white cliffs of Dover, for a strong head-wind had made rapid travel difficult and undesirable.

"Port in sight, sir," he said, saluting the Commander.

"Then we'll send 'em a Marconi."

"To whom?" asked Joe, smiling now, for was not this a triumph?

"Er--well, why not to Mr. Carl Reitberg?" gurgled d.i.c.k. "Compliments, you know; happy greetings. Just arrived to claim that money, and sorry about that fellow you sent to see us off the St. Laurence."

"Send this," said Andrew, laughing at the mids.h.i.+pman. "Great airs.h.i.+p in sight of England. Making for London where all may see her. Owners present hundred thousand pounds deposited by Carl Reitberg to hospitals."

"And the s.h.i.+p?" demanded the Major.

"To King and Country," said Andrew promptly.