Dangerous Deeds; Or, The Flight in the Dirigible

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER XI

  In the third dirigible, as the night dropped down the dead awoke!O'Brien stirred, rubbing his bruised face and working his stiff jaws.Other than the small discomfort of feeling that his countenance had beenstepped on, he felt once more like himself, ready for anything.

  "The top av the night to ye," said O'Brien briskly, sitting up. "AlsoMizpah, Selah, Judah and the rest of them intertainin' east-sidesayin's. I never did know was they a t'reat or a promise. Back when Iwas ridin' in the Mounted Police of Upper Canada, there was a fellyalways said ... but that's neither here nor there." He checked himself.O'Brien never told stories of the North and its frozen trails althoughhis friends spent hours trying to trick him into some of thehair-raising yarns that they knew he could tell if he only would. But nouse. O'Brien was silent as the grave. _More_ silent, some of the fellowsgrumbled. You could dig into a grave. Nothing could pry into or dynamiteO'Brien.

  "Have a good sleep?" asked Hank, looking wistfully at O'Brien's weltedface.

  "So-so," said O'Brien. "I dreamed. And it's no time at all for dreamin'.What's gone on since I slept?"

  "Nothing," Bill assured him. "She is sailing as smoothly as a swallow,and the lights ahead are steady."

  "Oh, ye have 'em sighted, have ye? Did ye try creepin' up since nightfell?"

  "Yes," said Bill. "But we are making our best speed, and the balloonahead is doing its best too. We can tell that through the glass by theway she shivers."

  "Any sign of any other balloon?" asked O'Brien, rising and stretchinghimself.

  "Not a sign!" said Hank.

  "Well, what shootin' irons have ye?" demanded O'Brien next. He glancedat the two revolvers held out to him. "Two dear little pill-boxes,those! Carry wan foot. See these?"

  He opened a case and disclosed four of the new model revolvers that hadjust been perfected. The design was unique. Instead of the steelcartridge clip holding six cartridges as in the old style revolver, thenew invention consisted of a light case at the base of the hand grip.This held a coil of cartridges fastened by aluminum clips to a lightwebbing. This had necessitated the rehanging and rebalancing of thewhole revolver, but the perfected weapon proved to be a greatimprovement on the old gun, and almost "fired itself," O'Brienexplained. The small, round clip holder at the end of the grip was notat all in the way and was so light that it was not cumbersome. Countingthe six cartridges that were strung in the grip and the ones lying inthe coil, the revolvers held eighteen shots. Also a new explosive called"Marsden," after its inventor, added a terrific force to the projectile.The barrels, longer than the squat model that had been so long in use,were octagonal.

  O'Brien viewed them with pride.

  "See me babies?" he purred. "The pretty pets! So neat and dainty andwillin'! Willin' is no name! I'm not sure you couldn't nick that bigsassy star over yonder, so be ye aimed straight. And I'm goin' to trustyou with one each. Don't be afraid you can't shoot straight after usin'the old model, because ye can. These are hung exactly like the ould gunson that account. The man who invented 'em had a grain of sense. He sawno reason why everybody in the world should have to learn his shootin'all over again, so he balanced this new barrel and modelled the clutchso they would hang the same. All the difference is it's simply a new gunfrom stem to stern, and Marsden is a great felly himself. They do tellof him that when he was tryin' out his new explosive that he plantedenough to go on a tin cent piece down a well, and sat a fuse, and now'tis a bottomless pool with thousands payin' a nickel to just peek overthe edge. It is sure wonderful. And no noise! It is going to make scrapslike the one I think is ahead both noiseless and orderly."

  "Well, I should say these are beauties," exclaimed Hank, bending overthe case with respectful tenderness. "Beauties; no less!"

  "You have said the word, me boy," rejoined the detective. "Helpyerselves to anny you like, they bein' as like as four peas, and passone on to Ollie at the wheel, and tell the lad be careful of it. Here'sthe fourth and lasht for me; and I trust it means the same as a slice ofbread."

  "Slice of bread! How's that?" asked Hank.

  "Did ye never hear now the great impartance of takin' the lasht slice ufbread on the plate? No? Dear, dear, how neglected ye've been! Ye've onlyto take the lasht slice of bread and ye are sure of a handsome wife.It's a thrue sayin' at that, because I could have had a handsomewife--yes, and a dozen of 'em--if only they would have consinted tomarry me. It niver, _niver_ fails! I'm a strong belaver in signs. I havemissed havin' many and many a million dollars just by neglectin' to say,'Money-money-money-wisht-I-had-a-million-dollars' when I saw a fallin'star. Else I'd be rich now!" O'Brien sighed and regarded the young menwith eyes that twinkled. "Just where are we?" he asked after a slightpause.

  The men told him.

  "Good!" exclaimed O'Brien. "Dawn or thereabout will see us off the whitecliffs of England; and I've not seen Ireland for a dozen years. 'Twillbe a small hop across the continent of Europe after we see the cliffs,and then we are due a vacation, I'm thinkin'."

  All at once O'Brien's face changed.

  "Boys, ye see the welts here and here?" he pointed to his face.

  Bill and Hank felt a pleasurable shiver travel up and down their spines.

  "Yes," they said together.

  "Good!" said O'Brien. "They belong in another story quite. What I amtellin' you is this. I picked you back there because I think you are twobould lads wit' no fear in ye, havin' seen you do stunts of all sortsaloft and below; so if you think I have let you in for danger, take itthat it was meant as a true tribute to your manhood."

  Hank and Bill did not venture a reply. He was likely to stop rightthere. But he did not. He pointed out into the darkness of the east.

  "Ahead," he said crisply, "sails the lowest, meanest, cruelest, sneakin'scoundrel that goes unhung! And he is stalkin' the finest, grandest,truest gentleman that ever served his country and his God wit' a wholeheart. And here are we. And Mr. Hamilton Ridgeway,--for the firstgentleman is him--thinks that it's meself trudgin' along behind. And thesaints alone know what the demon in the middle machine thinks of us.Does the wireless work?"

  "Perfectly!" answered Hank.

  O'Brien frowned. "See that it is tuned up ready for instant use," heordered. "I don't like to use it unless I am invited, but I've a hunchthe man just ahead may want to ask me a question or two. If he calls,don't say a wurrud 'til I can get to the receiver. And keep your gunslimber and your hearts willin', because it's the man ahead put me in amost embarrassin' position wit' a gag in me teeth and me arms and legsbound and a dose of poison yearnin' at me on the table. And that nolater than lasht night. And bein' where he is, I know he means death anddestruction to the finest man and the most promisin' boy in thiswurruld. And he's after some written words meant for a dinky littlelocality across Europe which is sittin' up nights waitin' for 'em;likewise there's a quane next door like, who can't go to her son'scomin'-out party without her crown jewels, the same which Mr. Ridgewayis takin' her, her husband havin' placed 'em in our Treasury durin' thewar and it takin' him five years to get things cleaned up enough to get'em home again.

  "And that man ahead has his plans all laid. Bein' he thought I was wellout of the way, he was careless with his instructions. He has laid theplan for his attack off the cliffs ahead, and I am afraid to have a fussso far out as this because we are too far out of the track of steamers,should wan of us go down. Likewise, Mr. Ridgeway undoubtedly thinks I amahead there. I wonder if we could reach him by wireless?"

  "Wouldn't that give the alarm to the man ahead?" asked Hank anxiously.

  "It might," said O'Brien. "I don't see what to do but keep watchin' andwait for day. I know Mr. Ridgeway has a balloon that can make double thespeed of either of these boats, and sure he don't want to speak to me.So why should he bother to get in range with that felly? Of course hehas guns, but how big I dunno. All we can do is watch."

  Hank and Bill sat silent, thinking rapidly. They were having thrillsenough now. As O'Brien we
nt forward to speak to Ollie, Hank dug a sharpelbow into his mate.

  "Gosh, doesn't some people have all the luck?" he wailed. "Gagged andbound and 'most poisoned! All in one night! Just like a movie!"

  Bill stared at him disgustedly. "Yes, you nut," he retorted, "andsuppose he hadn't uv escaped? How would you like _that_?"

  "But he did," said Hank. "Some people have _all_ the luck! Cousin ofmine was in the war, and he got gassed and shell shocked and had fiveshrapnel wounds, and one of 'em took the top of his head off, so hewears a silver plate and the gassin' took off all his hair so he wears awig and his face is all smooth and shiny, and he has gold wire on hisjaw where a piece of shrapnel broke it."

  "Hully gee!" cried Bill. "You don't call that _luck_, do you?"

  "Of course!" maintained Hank stoutly. "When anybody asts him, _he_always has something to talk about."

  "Well, I'll say I will talk about the weather," said Bill. "I don't wantany conversation whatsoever that has to be made out of pieces of me. Idon't mind doing any job like the one we are on, and I was sore becauseI was too young to get into the war. I wouldn't have been afraid ofanything, and you know it, but there's no use inviting trouble bywanting to make conversation out of it. I guess not!"

  After a little O'Brien returned. "It looks like a fog was coming," heremarked. "I wish this English coast would clean up its fogs."

  "We can get above it, can't we?" asked Bill.

  "Not an English fog," said O'Brien. "The only place above an English fogis Heaven and the only place below it is deeper than I think oftravelin'. I do hope we won't have anything like that to bother us."

  The night dragged along, and the men anxiously watched the banks ofvapor rolling around them. O'Brien insisted on Ollie and Hank and Billtaking a good nap while he, O'Brien, sat motionless at the wheel. He wasleaving his next move to fate. Just how he should act his part he didnot know. As he had told Hank and Bill, he was sure that the speed ofthe car leading was the greatest protection that they could have orwould need. And he remembered happily that he and Lawrence had settledon a signal which he was sure Lawrence had since tried out. If Lawrenceonly suspected that he was not in the car following, there would be nodanger at all for Mr. Ridgeway.

  O'Brien was glad the night was passing.

  But the passing of the night brought only a shivery gray light as theyrolled through billows of heavy fog. O'Brien, at the wheel, set thedelicate tentaclever, the wonderful little instrument by which they wereable to find the whereabouts of any other aircraft within a hundredmiles. It at once caught the direction of the balloon ahead, andreported on its dial that there was no balloon following. So they hadnot passed one of the other balloons in the fog. They were within twohours' flight of the coast of England. A half hour passed and thereoccurred one of the strange freaks of a dense fog. It suddenly lifted,and ahead they saw the dirigible they were following and ahead of that,far, far away, the airship containing the treasure. A moment later thewireless commenced to hum and click. Hank and Bill and O'Brien reachedit together.

  O'Brien adjusted the receiver. The message ticked faintly.

  "Something wrong with their machine or ours," said O'Brien anxiously.

  Finally he got the words. "Who are you?" O'Brien sat staring. Then"John" he answered.

  For a second it occurred to him to send out a call for help but he knewthat Smith would only too gladly see his co-partners drop into the oceanand drown. So O'Brien sent the single name, and waited. There was noresponse.

  "Why?" called O'Brien.

  Still there was no reply. Then, "Something wrong with your wireless,John," came to him. "Can't make out anything you send. Take this if youcan. Cliffs about two hours ahead. I am going to--" there was a buzzingand a flutter and dead silence.

  O'Brien listened and called in vain. Something had gone wrong with thewireless. Once more baffled, O'Brien sent out call after call. There wasno response. Once more Smith had escaped for O'Brien could not helpthinking that the words he had been about to send would have madeeverything clear.

  As O'Brien threw down the receiver with an exclamation of bitterdisappointment the fog again drifted about them like a pall, andO'Brien, silent and bitter, took the wheel, and with his eyes on theindicator kept the balloon headed toward its invisible foe ahead. Theywere nearing the cliffs.