Biggles at World's End

by W E Johns

  Biggles increased his pace. At the last moment Gontermann looked back up the hill, and seeing Biggles and Ginger coming, stopped.

  ‘I thought you were on your way home,’ said Biggles.

  ‘So I am. I just stopped to have another look at your plane.’

  ‘Why now?’ inquired Biggles, carelessly. ‘You’ve had plenty of opportunity on the aerodrome.’

  ‘My friend has never seen it.’

  ‘Is he an airman?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then he could hardly be interested in it. However, if he’d like to see inside I’d be pleased to show him round. We’ve no secrets to hide.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Then followed what Ginger took to be a farce as the man was shown the inside of the machine. This done, with a gruff word of thanks the two men walked away towards their boat.

  ‘What was all that nonsense?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘It might not have been nonsense.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Gontermann may have wished to satisfy himself that we had no gold on board. We’ll stay here till they’ve gone.’

  ‘What’s all this about, anyway?’ inquired Algy, looking puzzled.

  In as few words as possible Biggles told him.

  Algy grimaced. ‘So that’s how the wind blows!’

  ‘There they go,’ observed Ginger, as the Wespe set sail.

  Said Biggles, looking serious: ‘That’s what I’d like to think. But I’d wager a month’s pay we haven’t seen the last of ‘em. I know the types. They don’t give up easily—not when there’s a fortune hanging to it.’

  ‘What will they do?’

  Biggles drew a deep breath. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied, slowly. ‘They know we haven’t got the gold. They could see it wasn’t at the tent. The probability is, therefore, that it’s still on the island where it was dumped. If you asked me to guess I’d say that’s where they’re making for now, to have another look round. The big question is, will they wait for us to go back there?’

  ‘Why should they?’

  ‘They will if they think we know where the stuff is.’

  ‘Why should they think that?’ questioned Algy.

  ‘They may surmise, correctly, that Carter and Barlow found it, in which case, as they’re going home, they will have told us where it is.’

  ‘Have they told you that?’

  ‘Not yet. But they will. We’d better be getting back to them, to get them away while the weather holds. One thing you can reckon on is, if we go back to that island Gontermann will know why. There could be only one reason, a little word of four letters.’

  ‘I don’t like this,’ muttered Algy, looking worried.

  ‘What don’t you like?’

  ‘The idea of leaving the machine on that airfield, where Gontermann, if he’s that sort of skunk, could tinker with it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put anything past him,’ asserted Biggles. ‘The answer is, we mustn’t leave the machine unguarded while he’s about, although that may present difficulties. But let’s get back to the tent. We can talk about that later.’

  They reached the camp to find that Bertie had cut two saplings, and with the help of Carter was busy lashing sailcloth to them with pieces of the same material.

  ‘Here, take this,’ said Carter, rising, and handing Biggles a small piece of paper, which turned out to be a sketch map of the gold island. ‘It’s a bit rough, but treasure charts usually are. It should be good enough. The island is somewhere in that direction.’ He pointed. ‘Being more or less the shape of a horseshoe I don’t think you can make a mistake. It lies north and south. It’s small, not more than half a mile long and a quarter wide at the widest part, which is the middle. That’s also the highest part, as you’d expect. As I’ve marked, in the bay that forms the inside of the shoe there’s a beach. Originally the gold was at the northern end, in a fairly steep sandbank. We moved it to the southern end, where the sand meets the rock. There’s a big, square, isolated boulder, and the gold is near the foot of the side that faces the sea.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Biggles. ‘That seems clear enough. While we’re at it you might tell me this. Where were you wrecked?’

  Again Carter pointed. ‘Down there. After several storms I doubt if you’ll see much of what’s left of our ship except at low water. Have those men gone?’

  ‘Yes. We’d better be going, too. Which way did you come here, via Chile or Argentina?’

  ‘Argentina. Why?’

  ‘You’d prefer to go home that way?’

  ‘I don’t really mind which way as long as I get there.’

  ‘I asked because, if it’s all the same to you, I’m thinking of flying you direct to Rio Gallegos instead of to Punta Arenas. It’s not much farther by air.’

  ‘What’s the idea of that?’

  ‘If I leave you in Punta Arenas you may have Gontermann worrying you. Rio Gallegos would be on your way home. Being in Argentina Gontermann would not find it so easy to get to you.’

  ‘I see what you mean. But what about the stuff we left in our hotel at Punta?’

  ‘I could pick that up on the way. We shall be there long before Gontermann. I strongly advise you to go to Gallegos. You’d be safer there.’

  ‘What about seeing Mr Scott about compensation for losing his boat?’

  ‘I could attend to that for you. I’m sure he’d appreciate your reasons for wanting to get home as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Very well. I accept your advice. You’re being very kind. But you talk about my safety. What about you? If you stay in Punta Arenas after we’ve gone home Gontermann will know why.’

  Biggles smiled. ‘Of course he will. But that will be our worry. I shall have to stay here, anyway, to await orders from my chief in London. I shall let him know the position as quickly as possible.’

  So it was settled. Mr Barlow was lifted on to the improvised stretcher. The rifle and a few odds and ends which Carter wanted to keep were put on the stretcher with him and the party set off for the beach.

  CHAPTER 9

  QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

  WITH the weather remaining reasonably fair, although there was plenty of room for improvement, the flight back to Punta Arenas was merely routine.

  As soon as the aircraft was in the air Carter was able to point out the island where he had found the gold, for with the land and water spread out below in the manner of a map, its shape, and the position of its beach, made it unmistakable. It was also possible to see the Wespe heading homeward up the Strait under both sail and power.

  ‘He must have decided to get back to Punta, imagining he’ll be able to make contact with Carter, assuming I’m taking him and Barlow there,’ observed Biggles.

  ‘He’ll be sick when he finds they aren’t there,’ opined Ginger.

  ‘That won’t worry me. Were we in his position we should be working just as hard.’

  ‘What do you mean by that? He has no right to the gold.’

  ‘That’s what we think. But I always try to see the other man’s point of view. Gontermann probably thinks he has as much right to the gold as we have—perhaps more. And on the principle of findings keepings there could be something in that argument.’

  ‘Dash that for a tale,’ protested Ginger. ‘The gold was taken from a British ship and that makes it ours.’

  ‘Gontermann could argue that as our countries were at war at the time the gold would come under the heading of the spoils of war. I’m not saying that is so. It’s a matter of how you look at it; in other words, which side you’re on. I’m merely trying to point out how Gontermann may regard the business.’

  The Gadfly of course arrived at Punta Arenas hours ahead of the Wespe but Biggles wasted no time. Leaving the others to attend to the refuelling of the machine he went in the car to the town, collected his passengers’ suitcases, at the same time paying the hotel bill, and then went on to Mr Scott to tell him that his search had been successful but that the Seaspray had been lo
st. He said he was flying Carter and Barlow straight on to Rio Gallegos, giving the same reason that he had given to Vendez at the airfield, namely, that they would be more likely to get a passage home from there without the long delay that might occur at Punta Arenas. He would be coming back, however, to settle the financial position of the lost boat. This done he returned to the aerodrome to find everything ready for departure.

  The Gadfly was soon in the air again and arrived at Rio Gallegos a little before sundown. Having checked in, leaving the others to make arrangements for the two plant collectors, who with their suitcases now had a change of clothes, he went to the post-office where he sent a carefully worded cablegram to the Air Commodore saying that he had been successful on both counts and now awaited instructions. He knew the Air Commodore would understand from that he meant the lost botanists and the gold. He was, he said, returning to Punta Arenas and all communications should be addressed to him at his lodgings there. A full report was on the way by air mail. Having written and posted the letter he rejoined the others, and as there was nothing more to be done they had a good meal at the aerodrome hotel and then sought their beds in the same establishment. It was dark by the time everything had been done and Biggles saw no reason why they should do any night flying.

  Dawn came with the weather deteriorating, so they lost no time in getting off, and in less than an hour later were back on the airfield at Punta Arenas to find that Gontermann had not yet returned. Having nothing in particular to do, for a drizzle had set in and looked like continuing, they talked to Vendez, who was in charge during the absence of his boss, Gontermann, the airport manager. The amiable Chilean was pardonably curious about why, having found the lost men, they had returned. Biggles had excuses ready. There was the business of the boat to settle up with Mr Scott. To account for further flights down the Strait he said some interesting botanical specimens had been left there by the plant collectors and when the weather cleared he intended to fetch them. Vendez accepted this explanation but Ginger could see he was still a little puzzled by so much trouble and fuss about what to him were matters of trifling importance.

  When, later, they were alone, Vendez having gone about his duties, Biggles said: ‘Things here are going to be a bit difficult when Gontermann gets back. It was all right to tell Vendez we were going back down the Strait to look for a few dried leaves and flowers although even he thought that a bit odd. Gontermann of course will know the real reason, so let’s not fool ourselves about that. But somehow or other we’ve got to hang on here until I hear from the chief what we’re to do next.’

  ‘I understood the idea was, should we find the gold he’d arrange for a ship to pick it up,’ said Algy.

  That’s right. But how long is the ship going to be getting here? It might be weeks, in which case the people here will think we’re out of our minds or realize we have other fish to fry.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it have been better to stay at Rio Gallegos?’

  ‘No. I considered that but I could see difficulties. Gallegos is in Argentina. This is Chile. So is the area in which we have to operate. Every time we went to and fro it would mean going through Customs, at both ends. That would look suspicious. It might play right into Gontermann’s hands. It would be easy for him to keep us grounded on some real or imaginary regulation.’

  ‘Why come here at all?’ queried Ginger. ‘Why not fly direct between Rio Gallegos and the gold island?’

  Biggles frowned. ‘You should know better than that. Flying from one country to another without permission would certainly land us in trouble. If we were based in Argentina and Gontermann saw us over Chilean territory—as he would, from his boat—he’d only have to report to the Chilean government to bring along a flight of fighters to shoot us down. No. We should be the last people to break international regulations in a friendly country and I’m not going to do it. That’s why I came back here. Everything so far has been open and above board and I aim to keep things that way.’

  ‘I don’t like the idea of leaving the machine here for Gontermann to sabotage if he feels like it.’

  ‘Neither do I, but there’s nothing we can do about it. He may not go as far as that. A permanent guard on the machine is out of the question. We could be about by day, possibly under the pretence of giving the machine an overhaul; but there could be no excuse for doing that at night.’

  ‘Are we going to do any flying?’ asked Ginger.

  ‘There’s one trip we should do, and that may be enough.’

  ‘What’s that, old boy? inquired Bertie, polishing his monocle.

  ‘We haven’t yet seen the colour of this gold.’

  ‘But we know where it is.’

  ‘We think we do, and that isn’t quite the same thing. When the Navy arrives, or whatever ship the Air Commodore sends, we shall be expected to show them the bullion. We would look a bunch of fools if we couldn’t find it. I’m going to make certain I know exactly where to put my hands on it when the time comes. We’ll do that as soon as the weather clears up and we get some reasonable visibility. There’s no future in blundering about in this murk. What I’d like to do is make a sketch map, from the air, of the islands round the objective, marking the one where the gold is buried.’

  ‘And the exact spot?’

  ‘No. That wouldn’t be necessary. It might also be dangerous should the map fall into wrong hands. The idea of the map is to give it to the captain of the ship, when it comes, so that we can arrange to meet there. Unfortunately the island appears not to have a name, or that would have been sufficient.’

  ‘I wonder why it hasn’t been given a name,’ put in Ginger.

  ‘I can only suppose there are so many islands they ran out of names and they didn’t bother about the little ones.’

  ‘Hold your hats, chaps,’ said Bertie sharply. ‘Here comes Gontermann now. At least, that looks like his car coming up the road.’

  ‘It’ll be interesting to see how he shapes, and hear what he has to say,’ remarked Biggles, dryly.

  To Ginger’s astonishment Gontermann’s manner was more friendly than it had ever been. ‘So you got back,’ he said cheerily.

  ‘As you see.’

  ‘What have you done with your castaways?’

  ‘What have you done with yours?’ parried Biggles.

  ‘Oh, I put them ashore at a place where they wanted to go,’ answered the German, casually. ‘Where are Carter and Barlow?’

  ‘I’ve taken them a bit nearer home.’

  Gontermann’s expression changed. ‘Where?’

  ‘To Rio Gallegos.’

  That this did not please the airport manager was evident from his expression. ‘Why there?’ he asked, in a hard voice.

  ‘For one thing it’s nearer home for them, and for another, I thought they’d have a better chance of getting a passage on a ship bound for England. Naturally, they’re anxious to see their people.’

  ‘So. I wonder why you didn’t fly them all the way home?’ There was a suspicion of sarcasm in the way Gontermann said this.

  ‘I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I had some business here to clear up.’

  ‘What business?’

  ‘There’s the matter of Mr Scott’s boat to settle for one thing. How far it’s covered by insurance, and so on. I promised Carter I’d attend to that for him.’

  ‘So. That is why you came back.’

  ‘Among other reasons.’

  ‘How long you stay here?’

  ‘I can’t say exactly. That will depend largely on the weather.’

  ‘Ah,’ breathed the German. ‘Well, I have work to do.’ Turning abruptly he walked to his office.

  ‘I fancy he wasn’t expecting that,’ said Ginger, softly.

  ‘No. Neither was I expecting to see him arrive here without those two men of his. I wonder where he’s left them.’

  ‘He could have dropped them in the town.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Had he done that h
e would have said so. It would have been the natural thing to say. No. He was deliberately evasive. You’ll have noticed he didn’t say where he put them ashore.’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It might matter a lot. I only hope he didn’t leave them on gold island.’

  ‘Could he have done that? We saw him sailing up the Strait.’

  ‘He would have had plenty of time to go to the island before that. It must have been a good two hours after he left us before we got off.’

  ‘If he left them on the island it’s going to make things awkward for us. But why would he do that?’

  ‘One good reason. Because he’s convinced the gold is still there. He knows we didn’t bring it away in the aircraft. Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t ask the men to go and we can’t evict them by force. They have as much right there as we have—perhaps more. They may be Chileans. I have a feeling this game is still only half played out. Let’s get the machine under cover and go back to town. It doesn’t look like clearing up today.’

  ‘You think the machine will be all right?’ queried Algy, anxiously.

  ‘I don’t think he’d dare to mess about with it while the staff are around.’

  ‘Unless one of the mechanics happens to be a pal of his.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s a chance we shall have to take. Don’t think of any more snags or I shall be having a nervous breakdown.’ They walked towards the machine.

  CHAPTER 10

  THWARTED

  BIGGLES had to wait for two days before the weather cleared sufficiently to make worthwhile his sortie to gold island to confirm that the hoard was still where it was said to be. He was too old a hand at reconnaissance to accept a report from anyone without making sure ‘with his own eyes’, as he put it. He was a believer in the old adage, ‘Seeing is believing’.

  All that happened in the interval was the receipt of a signal from the Air Commodore ordering him to stand by for a letter of instructions which was on its way by air mail. The reasons why such instructions could not be sent openly by cablegram or radiogram were obvious. What they were really doing there would have been exposed, not only to the people around them but to the whole world, for such an item of news would have become a newspaper story. A gold hunt is always ‘news’, anywhere. This inevitably would have led to complications Biggles was anxious to avoid. As he said to the others over breakfast at the hotel: ‘One whisper of the word treasure and we’ve had it.’