Frank immediately opened wide the door and bade the other welcome. He even held out his hand, and made the French aviator feel that they were delighted to know he was to be with them.
“First of all be pleased to read what Major Nixon has written here,” said M. Le Grande, after being introduced to the other boys, who were surveying him with natural curiosity, because they, too, recognized his well-known name.
Frank quickly read the contents of the note. It was to the point, for the British officer was a man of comparatively few words.
“My Dear Frank:
With this I introduce my friend Monsieur Armand Le Grande. You know what he has done in your line. He will be your passenger on the trial trip. Remember, you are the sole commander, as M. Le Grande is there simply to take notes, and advise, if you care to ask his valued opinion at any time. The best of luck to you all, and may this day be one never to be forgotten, both here and in the tight little island across the Channel. When we receive word by wireless, I shall let you know over the phone.
Since Frank knew the handwriting well he could not have any doubt concerning the authenticity of the letter. It happened that he had also seen pictures of the noted French birdman, and they corresponded with the features of the man who had come to them.
If Frank, therefore, had in the beginning entertained the slightest suspicion, it was by now wholly allayed. Sitting there while the newcomer enjoyed a cup of black coffee, they talked in low tones of the contemplated voyage.
It was wonderful to see how calmly they discussed the tremendous possibilities of the great raid by aëroplanes on the enemy’s works. Ten years back, had anyone ventured to affirm that in so short a time scouts would be sailing through the upper currents at the rate of two miles a minute, and even “looping the loop” in a desire to prove their mastery over air, he would have been set down as visionary and a dreamer.
Frank went to the double doors opening on the trestle that ran down to the water and took an observation.
“There is some haze on the sea,” he announced, “but it is rising, and I think we are going to have a fair day for the trip.”
They had made all preparations, so that when the summons came there should be no occasion for unnecessary delay. Knowing that they would find it bitterly cold far up among the clouds while moving at high speed, all of them were careful to don the warmest clothing possible. As they wandered about the interior of the hangar they resembled mummies to some degree; but appearances count for little with the venturesome men who risk their lives while emulating the birds.
All at once there was a quick angry buzz.
“The ’phone, Frank!” cried Billy.
Frank darted over and clapped the French receiver to his ear.
“Hello!” he called.
“Who is it?” asked a voice he recognized as belonging to the Major.
“Frank Chester; is that you, Major Nixon?”
“If you mean M’sieu Le Grande, yes. He’s here with us, waiting for the time to come when we make the start.”
“Well, it is here. I have called you up to tell you, Frank.”
“Have you received a message by wireless from across the Channel, sir?”
“We have,” replied the Major. “It told us that the fleet had started from Dover cliffs, and would be across in less than half an hour, if all went well.”
“Good news! You make us happy when you say that. Shall we get out at once and be ready to join them when they show up?”
“Lose no time, for they may be here sooner than expected; and again the best of luck go with you, Frank, my boy. May you and your chums return in safety, and your passenger bring back a glowing report. That’s all; now get busy!”
Frank swung around. His young face fairly glowed with animation and expectation.
“How about it, Frank?” asked Billy, as nervous as ever.
“They’re on the wing and heading this way. Everybody get aboard while I fling open the doors and fix it to start!”
There was no confusion because they all knew exactly what was expected of them, and everyone had his place arranged.
Frank swung aboard as the big seaplane began to move. In another second they had passed beyond the doors and commenced to descend the trestle leading to the surface of the bay.
The seaplane took the water with the grace of a swan. There was something of a splash when the connection was made, but that odd bow so like a spoon had been built especially to spurn the water, and so the craft skimmed along just as a flat stone hurled by a boy’s hand will skip over the surface until its momentum has been exhausted.
“There’s something of a crowd over there watching us, Frank!” announced Billy, as he pointed to the shore, at some little distance away.
“Could they have known about what we expected to do,” remarked Pudge, “or is it just the idle crowd that was chased away yesterday by the guard, come to see what’s on the program for to-day?”
“The chances are some of those spies are among the lot,” Billy said at a hazard.
“If they are they’ll be kicking themselves soon because they can’t get word to their friends up the coast,” Pudge continued, looking as though he considered that he might be going to have the time of his life, as no doubt he was.
Frank did not start up. There was no necessity for doing it, since he had no desire to show off before the Dunkirk people, and it was the part of wisdom to conserve all his resources for the strain that awaited them.
He had his field glasses in his hand, and with these he now began to scan the heavens toward the west, veering a little to the northwest. The others waited anxiously to hear what he might discover.
“Nothing in sight from here,” announced Frank; “but then that was to be expected. We are low down on the water, and there are more or less streaks of haze in the air to interfere with a good view.”
“It’s too soon to look for them, anyway,” added Pudge.
“How long do they expect to be on the journey across the Channel, Frank?” Billy inquired.
“From what Major Nixon said, I should guess from twenty minutes to half an hour,” Frank explained. “It all depends on what air currents they strike, and whether they meet with any accidents on the way.”
“There’s our friend the sergeant waving to us from the shore,” announced Billy. “He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he wants you to understand he wishes you all kinds of good luck.”
“Oh!” suddenly cried Pudge, “what’s that over there, Frank! Focus your glass on it and tell me! I hope it isn’t one of those sassy little Taube machines come to bother us just when we want to be let alone.”
“No fear,” he was told by Frank as soon as he caught the far distant object that had caused this outbreak on the part of the fat boy. “That’s only a gull circling around in the sunlight.”
“Hadn’t we better be up so we can join the fleet without wasting any time?” asked Billy
“No need,” Frank assured him. “I understand that they mean to swing in here, and then make a fresh start straight away up the shore.”
“But why should they come in here at all, when they could just as well have headed straight from Dover to Antwerp and Zeebrugge?” demanded Billy, who with that reporter instinct of his always wanted to know the why and wherefore of everything.
“There are several reasons, I believe,” Frank went on to say. “For thirty seaplanes to cross the Channel with its variable winds is a big feat, and it was to make sure all was well with each member of the fleet that they laid out to start fresh from here. Then, I fancy, several other machines are waiting here to join them, so as to make the raid as big as possible, and strike a note of alarm along the naval bases of the coast.”
“Now I understand better,” admitted the other, always willing to listen to any explanation given by Frank, for whose opinion he entertained considerable respect.
The minutes dragged. Even Pudge manifested unusual impatience, and kept craning his fat neck in the endeavor to scan the sky toward the west, as though in hopes of making a pleasing discovery ahead of Frank with his glasses.
“There goes one man up in his biplane!” remarked Billy, who had happened to turn his head and glance back toward the city, attracted possibly by a distant humming sound that was strangely familiar.
“And a second following him in a monoplane,” added Pudge. “I suppose now those fellows will join the squad that’s meaning to do some damage to interior points like Bruges.”
Both the boys looked toward Frank appealingly, as though they hoped he would think best to follow suit, but he did not make the slightest move. Instead, he held the field glasses again to his eyes as he swept the heavens far to the west for signs of the coming squadron of navy aëroplanes and seaplanes that had left the cliffs of England, sailing high to avoid the fog that lay upon the Channel there.
“It must surely be twenty minutes from the time they started by now,” urged Billy presently.
“Just that to a fraction,” announced Pudge, looking to see.
“They may have met with contrary winds up there and be delayed,” urged Frank. “Because it seems so quiet down here is no sign that the conditions are the same a mile high. Be patient! I expect to soon have some good news for you.”
“I surely hope nothing has happened to break up the tea party, once it’s got off on the trip,” grumbled Billy.
Pudge said nothing more, but sat there watching Frank. He knew they would learn of the coming in sight of the fleet first of all from the one who carried the magnifiers; and hence he kept his eyes on the face of his chum.
When Frank lowered the glasses Pudge gave a soft wheeze, as though he had been fairly holding his breath meanwhile; then as soon as the other started to look again Pudge resumed his former occupation of watching for signs.
Even the longest night must have its end, and this absorbed vigil on the part of the fat boy was not without receiving its reward.
When Frank, on the next occasion, not only hastily lowered the glasses but passed them along to Billy, Pudge knew the crisis had arrived at last.
“There they come!” cried Billy, as soon as he had clapped the smaller end of the field glasses to his eyes. “Oh! what a raft of them I can see! Must be a hundred in that bunch, Frank, anyway, all of fifty if there’s one!”
But Frank knew how Billy was prone to exaggerate, without meaning to deceive.
“Let M. Le Grande take a look, Billy,” he suggested, which aroused the other to a remembrance of the fact that they had as their guest a most famous aviator who should be treated with every consideration.
Pudge did not ask to look. He was too busy watching Frank, who had made as if to turn on the power and start things going. For, after skimming over the surface of the water, the big seaplane would mount up like a bird on the wing.