The Great Airship: A Tale of Adventure.

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER II

  Andrew Provost's Resolution

  Andrew Provost was not the man to shirk his liabilities, or to shrinkfrom an undertaking however difficult it might appear, and howeverimpetuous he may have been in his decision.

  "No, siree," he exclaimed, sipping his after-dinner coffee, and thenpulling at a big cigar. "No, my boy, I ain't the one to back out, youbet. That fellow Reitberg got my monkey up with his sneers and his crowsabout those German Zeppelins. Boy and man I've lived under the UnionJack, and what folks can do elsewhere, why, they can do 'em as wellwhere I've lived. Fire in at that agreement, Joe."

  For the moment he had allowed a decided Yankee drawl to betray thecountry from which he had so recently come, for in Canada they speakmuch as they do in America, though the drawl and the accent are not soaccentuated. It showed that Andrew was stirred. In moments of excitementhe always developed a drawl; but if excited, he was also practical.

  "Read that document, Joe?" he asked again. "Mind you, I admit that thereare many of my old friends who would call me a fool over thisbusiness."

  "Impossible, Uncle!" his nephew interrupted.

  "Fiddlesticks, my boy! No offence, mind; but look at this mattersquarely. How do we stand? It's like this. We're aboard aHamburg-Amerika liner. We see a Zeppelin, and get a fine display, allfree and for nothing. We run up against a fat little fellow namedReitberg, who's neither German nor English, nor anything in particular.Anyway, he's made his money like me under the Union Jack. Well, now, hecrows about that ship, says there's not another nation could build one.Gets riled too, when you say that England could, that you yourselfcould. Shows plainly, though with some amount of politeness, that hedon't believe you, and then gets to crowing again. Isn't that enough toput up a Britisher's back? Eh?"

  "Well, it wasn't very pleasant certainly, rather riling. Made onewince."

  "Wince! Squirm! Look here, Joe, I never liked being beaten. If I did I'dnever have got to the position I have. I'd have been still running thatsmall store away outside Toronto, with its tin roof and its wallstintacked together. It's because I didn't like being beaten that I'm notthere. And I don't like to think that Britishers are beaten. When yousaid that you could build an airship better than a Zeppelin I believedyou."

  "Awfully kind of you, too, Uncle," Joe declared, gratitude lendingunusual warmth to his tones.

  "It _was_ mighty kind," came the half-smiling answer. "Then and there Ilet myself into an expenditure of a hundred thousand pounds, and allbecause I couldn't stand that fellow Reitberg's crowing, and, from amighty long experience, had confidence in my own countrymen. You'd saidthat you could do it--that was enough for me. But it's very small reasonfor such an expenditure when you come to look plainly at it. No offence,Joe, mind that. You're my nephew; I've heard big things about you, andif you've said you can succeed, why you shall. Your Uncle Andrew'll helpyou."

  They shook hands on it, exchanging a firm grip. But it must be allowedthat Andrew was really only putting the true facts before his nephew.After all, what hard-headed business man--and Andrew was that ifanything--would promise such a huge sum simply because a nephew haddeclared that he could build a ship of similar class to a Zeppelin, thatis, one lighter than air, but more powerful, more perfect, in every waymore desirable? Why, the fat, comfortable-looking Mr. Reitberg was eventhen detailing the incident to a few of his cronies who were seated inthe smoking-room of his luxurious town house. There were five of thempresent, none of whom would again see a fiftieth birthday,comfortable-looking gentlemen, robustly built, running to fat if we wereasked for a concise description. They discussed the matter in English,though all betrayed some accent. In fact, they had without exceptionbeen foreigners, only three at least were naturalized Englishmen.

  "It made me laugh afterwards," declared Mr. Reitberg, sitting up, andwithdrawing his cigar from between a pair of short, stumpy, fatfingers. "You've met Andrew Provost?"

  They had: all nodded. "From Canada--stores," said Mr. Julius Veldtheimlaconically. "Rich man--very."

  "Said to be one of the wealthiest," added Mr. Herman Schloss, puffing acloud of smoke in the direction of the table bearing decanters andglasses.

  "Has a reputation for sagacity. Buys heavily from us," ventured a third,whose name is of no consequence.

  "And yet laid himself open to an expenditure of a hundred thousandpounds--one hundred thousand pounds, gentlemen, on the word of a youngnephew who, whatever his merits, won't languish for want ofself-confidence."

  "Ah! How? Why? He had a reason. Provost always has a reason. He'ssharp."

  The questioner looked languidly across at Mr. Reitberg, and smiled asthat complacent gentleman smiled. He chuckled even. "I'll tell you," hesaid, turning to them all. "There was a Zeppelin overheard as we crossedfrom Hamburg. Well, its manoeuvring was wonderful. Provost was amazed.He began to think that he would feel queer in this country if one wereto sail overhead. You see, this one dropped bombs, so we were able towatch the actual thing that will occur in war. It frightened Provost. Hewondered why they hadn't any here. I told him."

  "Ah! Why?"

  "Because they can't build 'em. No one can."

  "You are sure?" asked Mr. Veldtheim.

  "Positive; I said so plainly. Provost got quite hot at the news. But hisnephew declared he could build one, that he had done so. Well, you know,I could see what it was. I smiled; the young fellow's confidence wasreally too pronounced. But Provost was too riled to notice. 'He says hecan build one. Then he can and will,' he sings out. 'I'll pay.'"

  "Ah! One hundred thousand pounds," lisped Mr. Veldtheim.

  "Yes, one hundred thousand pounds. 'You'll lose it all,' I told him, orrather, I intimated that as politely as was possible. 'You'll neversucceed. I'm so positive, that if you do, and build a ship which cansail round the world, all within nine months of this, why, I'll pay thebill.'"

  "Bravo!" cried Mr. Veldtheim. "Your money's safe. Zeppelins aren't builtin nine months, even by those who know all about 'em."

  That seemed to be the general opinion of the company present. In fact,one and all looking at the matter from their own point of viewconsidered that Andrew Provost had been guilty of a species of madness.

  "Better by far hand his nephew a handsome cheque and have done with thematter," observed Mr. Veldtheim. "It'd be easier and cheaper."

  But, as we have intimated already, Andrew Provost was made of stubbornmaterial. Also, he had seen sufficient of Joe during their travels onthe Continent since his coming from Canada to assure him that he wasnot overstocked with confidence. Or rather, to assure him that he was aclever, painstaking fellow, who seldom declared his powers, but who,when induced to do so, never overshot the mark. Consequently, when hesaid that Mr. Reitberg was misinformed, Andrew Provost believed him. Buta statement was one thing; hard facts another.

  "Just get to and read that agreement between Reitberg and myself," hesaid again. "Then tell me all about this ship of yours. Recollect, I'venever seen it, nor heard of it either."

  "Pardon, you've heard of it," said Joe shortly.

  "Eh, heard of it? Come!"

  "A year ago. There was a scare in England," Joe reminded him. "There waseven an airship scare in Germany. The papers were full of reports.Brilliant lights had been seen in the sky. The noise of aerial motorswas heard. It was feared in England that a foreign spy was manoeuvringover our magazines and arsenals."

  Andrew looked sharply at his nephew over the rim of his cup. "Airshipscare? Yes, I remember; the papers in Canada were full of it--well?"

  "That was my ship. People said that a mistake had been made; that folkshad imagined the ship. They said the same in Germany. But it wasn'timagination: it was a real ship, the one I had built."

  "And--and what became of it?" gasped Andrew--for this was news--"Whydidn't you sell it to the War Office authorities?"

  Joe smiled. "War Office authorities! Know 'em?" he asked.

  "Never met them--why?"

  "They're too slow for words," declared Joe,
laughing. "I'll tell youabout them. I went there, to the War Office. I got lost in the place,it's so vast and has such huge lengths of corridor. And I'm inclined tobelieve that the folks who work there get lost. Anyway, they couldn'tfor an hour or more direct me to the department likely to have someknowledge of airships. But I reached it at last and told my tale."

  "Ah! You got home. Then, what happened! They sent right off toinvestigate."

  "The official who interviewed me, and who had, I imagine, as muchknowledge of airships as I have of turnips, informed me that he wasvastly interested and would put the matter before the authorities andcommunicate with me. I left my address; I waited; I got tired ofwaiting."

  "What! How many days?"

  "Six weeks. I wrote reminding them of my visit."

  "Gosh! Six weeks! Then, what happened?"

  "They sent a formal acknowledgment--the matter was having theirconsideration."

  Andrew Provost leaped from his chair and stood facing Joe, biting hiscigar fiercely. "You mean to tell me that that's the treatment youreceived? That I might expect the same to-morrow if I went to the WarOffice with a brilliant invention?" he demanded hotly. "Do you mean tosay that I'd as likely as not be interviewed by a fellow who knew nextto nothing about the matter, and that weeks would elapse before I heardfrom 'em again, and then only after sending 'em a reminder?"

  Joe laughed. "That was my experience," he said. "I dare say others meetwith the same. Tantalizing, eh, Uncle?"

  "Tantalizing be hanged! If that's the sort of thing that happens, thenthe sooner the crowd inside that office is hauled out and booted thebetter. Guess live men are wanted--folks who can earn their pay--notdolls and dullards. But let's leave 'em. Tell me about the ship--go on."

  "She was wrecked; a violent gale sprang up."

  "Ah! Usual thing. That's the weak part about those Zeppelins," saidAndrew. "They're unmanageable in a wind. A half-dozen and more of themhave been wrecked; so you suffered in the same way."

  "No! The gale wrecked my hangar; it was flimsily put together. That wasthe fault of having small funds. As to Zeppelins, I know that they havethat particular weakness. Wait till you see my designs. I'm not afraidof a gale, and can manoeuvre into my hangar when gusts are blowing atfifty miles an hour. Fact, Uncle! You'll see when we've finished."

  Andrew Provost strode backwards and forwards before the wide-open windowof the hotel. He was thinking deeply, and more than once he cast ashrewd, sharp glance at his nephew. This long-headed man was a littleuneasy. And who can blame him? For, in the first place, solely on thestrength of Joe's assertion, and because Mr. Reitberg had riled him, hehad taken up a challenge. And now he heard his nephew declare that afifty-mile gale was of no consequence, though to a Zeppelin airship itwould prove easily disastrous. Was Joe romancing? Or was he so carriedaway by this work of his that his imagination made successes where theydid not exist?

  "No; certainly not. He looks and is clever. If he says gusts don'tmatter, they don't," thought Andrew, after another sharp look at hisnephew. "What appears difficult to believe may very well be simple whenone has seen his designs. Here, Joe," he cried. "We get drifting on; doread that document, then show me your plans. I'll pay a cheque for tenthousand pounds into your account to-morrow, and then you'll be able togo ahead. Now, the document."

  Joe picked it up from the table on which it was resting. Unfolding thesheet, he disclosed at the top the arms of the Hamburg-Amerika SteamshipCompany, and in the right-hand corner the name of the ship they had sorecently left. The date was scrawled in a firm hand beneath it, and thenthere appeared the following words: "I, Andrew Provost, of Park St.,Toronto, Canada, and of 29 Fenchurch St., London, England, guarantee tobuild with the help of my nephew, Joseph Gresson, and others whom I mayappoint, an airship similar to the well-known Zeppelin; that is to say,when inflated with gas the said ship shall be lighter than air. Itshall be capable of lifting not less than thirty tons, of progressingagainst a wind at more than sixty miles an hour, and of traversing theworld in any direction, keeping in the air for that purpose as long asshall be necessary, though she may be allowed to descend to the land fornecessary supplies, renewals, and repairs. Should I succeed with thehelp abovementioned in building a ship capable of all this, and ofcircling the world, and should that voyage be completed within ninemonths of this date, then Carl Eugene Reitberg, of 42 Park Lane, London,England, guarantees to pay the full cost of the building of the saidship, and of her voyage, but not exceeding in all one hundred thousandpounds. It is further agreed that a special form of passport shall beobtained from the Foreign Office, and that the same having beeninitialled by the various authorities of the countries over which theship may pass in her voyage shall be held to be proof of her voyage."

  "Clear as crystal. And you can do it?" asked Andrew.

  "Certainly."

  "Then let's have the designs. How does your ship beat the Zeppelin?What's she made of? Tell me everything; remember I'm ignorant. I justknow that an aeroplane is a heavier-than-air machine, and a Zepplin's alighter-than-air; that is, once she's inflated with gas. Fire away. I'mdying to get in at the actual building."

  Joe was a practical young fellow, and was not to be hastened. Heunlocked a leather bag lying near his feet and abstracted a sheet ofglistening paper. Spreading it out on the table, he showed his uncle abig detail drawing of the machine he proposed to construct.

  "It's not easy to follow the outline here," he said. "Wait till theship's finished. But you can see this much. She's long and pointed ateither end, and looks like a flattened cigar. That's how she differsfrom the Zeppelins. She's built very flat, and extends on either sidetill the top and bottom half come together in what may be called alateral keel."

  "Why? Where's the reason?"

  "To protect her against gusts of wind and gales. A Zeppelin can'tescape. Every breath plays on her big lateral bulk. In my ship the windstrikes a thin keel on whichever side it comes, is divided there, andpasses over and under the ship, sliding as it were upwards and downwardsaway from the gradually-sloping surfaces which lead from those keels. Infact, the ship is almost as flat as a tortoise, and as widecomparatively, though she's very much longer."

  "And--and this flattening of the ship makes her laugh at gales?" askedAndrew, staring at the plans before him.

  "Certainly--her shape, and other fittings. Now, let's return to theZeppelin. It's a huge framework of aluminium, built very light andcovered with a material of neutral tint."

  "Which holds the necessary gas."

  "No, Uncle. Which merely covers the aluminium skeleton. Inside theframe there are twenty or more balloonettes, inflated with gas. Thus ifone bursts, or two, or more even, the ship still floats."

  "Canny that! Smart!" declared Andrew. "Well, yours? It's a similarframework, I suppose? The same balloonettes? Where does the differencecome?"

  Joe bent again to his bag and produced a parcel, which he rapidlyopened. He drew from the interior a sheet of shining material, whichmight have been glass but for the fact that it was folded half a dozentimes. Placing it on the table, this sheet opened to its full capacityas soon as the weight of his fingers was removed.

  "Flexible and elastic, you see, Uncle," said Joe. "And yet notextensible. See--it does not stretch. Transparent, of course--one of itsleast advantages--but yet one of great value in the construction of anairship."

  "What! You don't mean to tell me you build the ship of that? How? Whatpart does it form? I--look here, Joe, you're romancing."

  Joe smiled; his deep-sunk eyes took on the clever expression, to whichhis uncle had become familiar. He placed two long objects on the table,and stood leaning the tips of his strong fingers upon them. He mighthave been a lecturer, and his uncle a student about to absorb hiswisdom. As for the objects he had placed on the table, one was a longpiece of the same transparent material, an eighth of an inch thick,perhaps, two inches wide before it was bent, and now bent all the waydown its length into a right angle. In fact, composed of iron it wouldbe known simply a
s "angle iron". The other object was a tube, perhapshalf an inch in diameter, two feet in length, and of thinner material.Both were transparent, and exceedingly light in weight, as Andrewassured himself instantly.

  "Go on," he said huskily. "What is the stuff? Not talc--that I can telleasily. Not celluloid either--you'd never be such a fool as to build aship of such a highly inflammable material. That stuff's lighter, also.What is it?"

  But Joe was not yet to be persuaded into an answer. He spread the thintransparent sheet out, caught the four corners, and taking a jug ofwater, poured some of the contents into the centre of the sheet. Not adrop penetrated it. Joe demonstrated the fact quietly and without showof haste. Then he stepped to the window and cast the water out. A momentlater he was striking a match.

  "Stop! Stop! How do I know that it isn't like celluloid?" cried Andrewin some alarm. "Supposing it fires. Supposing there's an explosion."

  Joe smiled. "It won't," he said curtly. "Look there."

  The flame was licking round one of the corners of this thin sheet ofmaterial. It blackened the surface above, while that below, immersed inthe flame, gradually changed colour. It became a dull red, then gotredder and redder till it was glowing. Slowly it changed its form, thecorner curled up into a globule. The latter separated itself from thesheet and tumbled on to the glass-topped table, where it broke into anumber of smaller drops.

  "Glass! No--too light by far. Not celluloid. Not talc. Then what is it?"demanded Andrew impatiently, taking the various articles and examiningthem. "Why, this angle piece is strong--as strong as aluminium!" hecried.

  "Stronger--stronger and tougher," asserted Joe. "You can bend it; it'sflexible. You can bend it double, and still it comes back to itsoriginal formation. Aluminium would crack at once; even steel would.Now, try the tube. See, it kinks when you bend it, though it requiressome strength to do that. Now, set it on its end on the floor; we'll puta book on the top end. Sit on the book, Uncle."

  Andrew did so--gingerly it must be confessed--for this transparent tubewith its small diameter and its walls less than an eighth of an inch inthickness looked as if it would at once succumb to his avoirdupois. Butit did not. He sat boldly upon the book now. He balanced himself uponthe frail support and jerked his feet from the ground.

  "Jingo!" he cried. "What in thunder is the stuff? It's strong, strong aspossible. Surprisingly powerful stuff. It bends if you use sufficientforce, yet doesn't break. It's tough; you've shown me that, for a knifeedge bites into it with difficulty. Then it softens and melts at afairly high temperature, proving that it can be easily treated andmoulded. Well?"

  "I call it celludine," said Joe, not without some trace of pride in histuneful voice. "I dropped upon the stuff quite by accident, for at the'Varsity' I was fond of working in a laboratory. Asbestos enters intoits composition, that I can tell you. It is easily manufactured, thematerials of which it is composed are inexpensive. It can be rolled intoplates and bars and drawn into tubes. Better than all, perhaps, whenbars and tubes and angle pieces are being built into a framework rivetholes can be punched with the simplest pneumatic tool, while the joinsand the rivets can be instantly and securely welded together with anelectric heating iron. Thus every joint becomes a solid piece."

  Andrew wiped his forehead--this was something--he even chuckled.

  "Reitberg'd have fits," he laughed. "He'd be beginning to get anxiousabout that money if he heard what you were saying. But get along. Thisstuffs fine. I can see that, and I'm quite a child in such matters."

  "Then it is hardly necessary for me to explain that I build my frameworkof this celludine. That frame is wonderfully strong, stronger a greatdeal than if composed of aluminium, and constructed far more rapidly andat less cost. It has another advantage Zeppelins have broken up beforenow, simply because certain portions of their frames have fracturedunder great strain. With this material the flexibility is such that theframe gives before a strain, grudgingly it is true, but gives withoutreceiving damage, and instantly returns to its former shape once thestrain is removed. Now let us proceed. I cover the frame with the samematerial. It is waterproof and gas-proof. Note that, Uncle. I fashionpartitions of the same material. Thus my balloonettes are formed. Thereis no need for the twenty and more balloonettes. All that weight isremoved. There are merely the partitions and the outer covering, andsince celludine is the lightest material of any that I have yetdiscovered, you can follow that here I have a material with which I canmake a ship at once lighter than a Zeppelin, though of equal size, whileit is stronger and more flexible. Add the important fact that the wholething is transparent."

  "Eh? Why? Where does the advantage come?"

  It was natural, perhaps, that Andrew should not follow his reasoning soquickly.

  "Imagine the ship to be inflated and in the air," said Joe. "Well, gasis transparent. So's the framework of the ship. She is invisible almost,except for engines and gear of a similar description."

  This time his uncle mopped his forehead busily. He was glad that he hadtaken up that challenge. He was beginning to hope that some day it mightbe his turn to gloat over Mr. Reitberg. He could even conjure up thehuge airship which Joe Gresson would build. Facts were in his case fareasier of digestion than any amount of theorizing, and here his nephewwas providing him with facts. As a practical man Andrew could decidethat this celludine was essentially suitable for the building of avessel to sail the air. Now he could realize better than ever thatsuccess was possible. But a few hours ago he had been content to takeJoe's mere word for it. His own common sense now supported that belief.He drew in a series of deep breaths, while he handled the samples beforehim. Unconsciously it seemed his hand sought his handkerchief and hemopped his fevered brow. Then he drew a cheque book from an innerpocket, seated himself at a desk, and took up a pen.

  "Pay Joseph Gresson ten thousand pounds," he wrote, and attached hissignature.

  "There," he said, with a beaming smile, smacking his nephew heartily onthe back, "get to at the work, Joe. Call for more when you want it.Don't stint yourself; spend freely if necessary, for there's no time towaste. We've got to be up and doing. I'll teach Mr. Reitberg to have abetter respect for Britishers. What others can do, we can. Gosh! We'llhave that ship sailing before he's finished chuckling at ourhelplessness."

  We leave him then for the moment, filled to the brim with enthusiasm,while we step aside to introduce a person of no little importance,namely, Mr. Midshipman Hamshaw, R.N., Dick Hamshaw, lately out ofDartmouth Naval College, and already known by officers and men as simpleand plain Dicky.