“Mumps and mathematics, but I’m glad to see you boys get back safe again!”
Of course that was Pudge, otherwise Ulysses Perkins, expressing his gratitude at the return of the gallant Sea Eagle and the two bold air navigators.
Pudge was close by on the shore when the seaplane ran in to the foot of the wooden trestle, upon which the big seaplane was drawn on the wheeled carriage, built for that purpose, until it was once more safely housed in the hangar.
“Don’t ask a single question, Pudge!” called Billy, “until we’ve got her up the inclined plane, and snugly sheltered from the public view. I guess there must be a thousand people outside trying to see what the Sea Eagle looks like. They must have watched us coming on down the coast, and had a bad case of fright at first, thinking it meant another spell of bomb dropping.”
“Yes, lend us a hand, Pudge,” added Frank, “and help get the machine settled evenly on the little carriage. You know we have it so arranged that she can be hauled up by means of this cable, and by her own motors. I’ll stay aboard to guide things, and you two follow after we’re safely in the hangar, not before.”
Billy knew he meant a rope might possibly break, and it would be dangerous for anyone to be caught upon the trestle by the descending seaplane. Indeed, Billy had a pretty vivid recollection of the narrow escape of the two spies who had barely jumped aside at the time of their downward rush.
Everything went off without the slightest hitch, and the first act of Pudge, after climbing the ascent in company with Billy, was to hastily look over the returned air traveler from the spoon-shaped bow to the opposite extremity.
“Seems to be without a scratch, Frank!” he exclaimed in undeniable glee.
“Why, did you think we had been in some sort of smash-up?” demanded Billy.
“Well, no, not quite so bad as that,” admitted Pudge; “but I knew some of those German spies must have tried pretty hard to capture the craft, and if that failed I reckoned they’d wanted to do something to put her out of commission. Now, please, sit down here and tell me everything.”
“Ours is a long story, Pudge,” said Frank, “as you can judge for yourself when I tell you we’ve been far up over the fighting lines in Belgium, found ourselves bombarded by shrapnel, and threatened by half a dozen Taube flying machines, as well as a Zeppelin!”
“Gosh! all of that?” gasped Pudge.
“Yes,” added Billy, shaking his forefinger at the stout chum, “and before we relate the whole story in detail you’ve got to tell us what happened last night that made you fail to come back when we expected you.”
“Oh! I wanted to, all right,” spluttered Pudge, as though he felt that somehow his bravery or his honor might be involved in the explanation demanded; “but, say, there were three of them, all big husky men, at that, and they caught me unawares just by that turn of the road. It was getting kind of dusk, too, and I never dreamed of trouble till one clapped a hand over my mouth, and the others held me while they tied a bandage around my face. Whee! I was near smothered at first.”
“They were Germans, Pudge?” questioned Billy, interested in the fact that Pudge had also had his share of adventure.
“I heard them talking in German, which made it look that way,” replied the other soberly.
“They didn’t hurt you very much, did they?” asked Billy, looking more closely at their jolly comrade.
“More my feelings than anything else,” replied Pudge, shrugging his fat shoulders disconsolately. “They just kept me there while they waited to catch some sort of signal. I listened, too, and heard some shouting, but that cloth kept me from making out what it meant. Afterward they set me free, and disappeared. I didn’t know what to make of it when I got to the hangar here and found the Sea Eagle gone.”
“You even felt afraid they had grabbed our seaplane, didn’t you?” asked Billy.
“Well, it gave me a bad scare at first,” Pudge admitted, with charming frankness.
“But you got over that later on, eh, Pudge?”
“I did when I heard you calling me from away out somewhere in the dark,” explained the other. “Were you on the water at that time, Frank, because I figured you must be, with that old fog horn sound coming stealing in to me out of that bank of gloom?”
“Yes, that’s where we were, Pudge,” Frank told him. “Now, since you’ve explained all about your own doings, we’ll satisfy your curiosity by telling you the particulars of the trial trip of our sample seaplane. Billy, you can do the talking, if you feel equal to it, while we start a fire here, and warm up with some coffee.”
A fire was soon sending out a fair amount of heat, and the coffee pot placed upon the top of the little sheet-iron stove gave promise of good cheer to come. The aviator boys had enjoyed this social cup many times while working on the assembling of the various parts of the seaplane, so that they had all the necessary accompaniments close by to be used after the coffee had boiled.
Meanwhile Billy had been thrilling Pudge with a recital of all he and Frank had gone through since the fat chum left on his errand. He pictured the dash down the trestle when the determined German secret agents were trying to break in at the doors, so as to seize and run off with the wonderful machine. From that he went on to the adventure in the fog and darkness of the night while they lay on the water of the harbor, and the searching parties came upon them.
Then followed the early morning flight, what amazing things they had seen when passing over the trenches, the fierce bombardment to which they were subjected, the maneuvers of the hostile aircraft, the accident to the motors, and finally their triumphant return to the hangar.
Pudge drew a long breath when the story reached its conclusion.
“And to think that I wasn’t along with you when all those things happened; it’s enough to make anyone weep,” he said, looking so downcast that Frank felt it only right he should try and cheer the poor fellow up.
“Never mind, Pudge,” he told him, “you were doing your duty just as much as any of us. The fact that we made that grand trip over the firing lines doesn’t mean we have any more reason to crow than you do. You can always say that you once had the great luck to be actually taken prisoner by the Germans.”
“Oh! they treated me all right, only that they kept me a prisoner and wouldn’t parole me on my honor not to betray them. Then, that cloth they tied around my face must have been something they picked up, for it seemed like an old rag. But thank goodness it’s all over with now.”
“Yes,” said Billy lightly, “no use ever borrowing trouble about things that are dead and gone. You know they say the mill will never run again with the water that is past. But there’s someone at the door, Frank.”
“I imagine it must be our friend, Major Nixon,” said Frank. “He’s heard that we’ve been away on some sort of trial spin to test things, and has dropped around to learn how we made out.”
“He’s going to be surprised a whole lot when he hears all we’ve got to tell,” said Billy, with a chuckle, as he started over to unfasten the door, upon the panel of which those knocks had been sounded.
It proved that Frank was a good prophet, for the visitor was the red-faced British officer connected with the aviation squad at Dunkirk. His manner betrayed the fact that he had come either to fetch some important news or else to be told something along those lines.
Once again did Billy have to start in. Fortunately, he was a pretty fair story-teller, and enthusiasm with his subject did more or less to help him. The Major was duly thrilled with the graphic account of all the stirring events that had come to Frank and Billy since the afternoon.
Being a man of considerable experience in aviation, though no longer allowed to make an ascent, on account of being subject to dizzy spells, the after effects from a severe accident, Major Nixon at least could enjoy hearing about the exploits of others.
Billy, too, was blunt, and not at all inclined to make himself and chum out to be any sort of heroes. He told the story in a most matter-of-fact way, though reading between the lines the officer was able to picture things about as they happened.
“I’m pleased to hear your grand account of this great seaplane,” he told them when Billy at last told of their safe return to the waiting hangar. “My word, if only we British had fifty like it, I believe we would be in condition to end the war before three months had passed. No Zeppelin would dare enter into the same class. What magnificent craft they would be for protecting the home coast from such bombardments as happened not so very long ago.”
“Well,” said Frank, thinking to strike while the iron was hot, “we’re going to ask that from now on our hangar be guarded against any sort of attack. This seaplane, after certain formalities have been complied with, really will belong to the French Government; so it’s surely up to you to defend the property of your ally from a raid.”
“Your point is well taken, Frank,” the officer told him. “Every hour of the day and night I will see to it that a company of armed guards is stationed around your property, with instructions to defend it against any force of thieves, desperate spies or any other invaders. They will rue the hour they attempt to capture or injure your wonderful seaplane.”
Major Nixon always made it a point to walk around the big air rover, and carefully note its various strong points as developed through the patents of its inventor, Dr. Perkins, U. S. A. He was the only one who had thus far been given the privilege of seeing the odd machine at close quarters; because the boys had the utmost confidence in his honor as a soldier and a gentleman.
It seemed to Billy that the Major spent an unusually long time looking things over on this occasion. Perhaps he wished to verify the statements, to which he had just listened, concerning the stability of the seaplane and its condition for hard service.
When he joined them again, Billy also noticed that there was a most peculiar expression on the other’s red face, of which he could make nothing at the time, although it all came to him afterward.
“Is the seaplane in condition for another trip that might cover several times the distance you did in this trial spin?” he asked.
Billy thought this to be merely a casual question, such as anyone might ask after hearing the story just finished; but Frank, able to see further, believed there might be a meaning behind it.
“All I would have to do would be to replace the liquid fuel that we have used, and after oiling the bearings in a few places, I give you my word, Major Nixon, I would be willing to take the chances of going to Paris and back in the Sea Eagle with as many as two or more companions on the journey.”
Upon hearing that the other smiled as though the answer pleased him. There were numerous attributes connected with Frank Chester calculated to appeal to a man of his observation; and considering the fact that he was an Englishman, usually cold and reserved toward outsiders, the Major had become warmly attached to the boy aviators and their fortunes.
“And now, if you’ll bend your heads toward me, because sometimes the very walls have ears, they say,” he remarked impressively, “I’ll tell you a great secret.”
Realizing that this was no joke, Frank, Billy and even Pudge leaned forward, after which Major Nixon went on to say in a cautious tone hardly more than a whisper:
“It was learned that our friends, the enemy, intended sending out another one of their exasperating raids with half a dozen Taubes. They would drop a few bombs on Dunkirk and Calais and call that a great feat. Now more than thirty seaplanes, guided by some of the most daring of British aviators, plan a gigantic raid on the German sea bases in Belgium to-night, and you can accompany them if you will!”