Dangerous Deeds; Or, The Flight in the Dirigible

by Frank Cobb

  CHAPTER XV

  Noon the next day found them over England, searching out one of theaviation fields that had been arranged at frequent intervals since theend of the Great War.

  Airships of all sorts were so commonly used that this was a necessity.All Country Clubs had them, as well as extra hangars for visitors. Atmost fields there were instructors, most of them American, just as golfinstructors are almost always Scotch. And the finest fields had wideexercise fields where beginners and children could potter around insafety.

  At one side of the aviation fields ran a low line of sheds for motorswhere men driving out from the city could lock and leave the cars theyhad come in while they were aloft in the airplanes or dirigibles, thoughdirigibles were but little used, on account of their size and expense.Even the small racing dirigibles like Mr. Ridgeway's pair, and the oneVan Arsdale had owned, were not common. It was like approaching in astate chariot, Lawrence found, and he commenced to understand that theuse of the big balloon had been partly to impress the Moranians and therepublic.

  At least twenty slim, graceful planes were flying here and there as theycommenced to descend to the field, and quite a flock of them, bright andsaucy, flitted round them as they went down. In the distance, they couldsee brightly clad little figures trotting around the golf course, andnearer, on the tennis courts, groups of what looked like dancing dollshopped and pranced over the smooth surfaces.

  "Makes me homesick to see all those planes," said Bill.

  "Awful poor pilots, most of 'em!" Hank replied, watching a monoplane gojerking around just above the ground. "Look at that! Oh, lordy! Well, hedid miss the Club House, didn't he? But I bet the mortar is peeling outfrom them stones from fright. Must be a kid at the wheel. No, by gummy,see the old duck steerin'?"

  And as the plane careened near them, Hank leaned out and flung hot wordsof scorn and advice after the uncertain holder of the wheel.

  "Poor old dear!" said Hank. "Don't you suppose he ain't got no folks? Heought to have some grandchildren or somebody that loves him, that oughtto keep him with his feet on the ground where he belongs. There he goesagain! See the leaves he clipped out of that oak tree. Well, I can'tlook! I just can't watch and see him destroyed."

  "He's going down," said Bill, looking after the careening plane. "Hedoes lay a queer course."

  "Queer course!" exclaimed Bill. "If it was so you could run a trailbehind him, it would look like a ball of rickrack braid after a kittenhad played with it."

  After the dirigible had been secured, the party started over to the ClubHouse where Mr. Ridgeway hoped to get a motor. Bill and Hank saunteredalong in the rear.

  "There's that precious old Methuselah that was reelin' around in theplane," said Hank suddenly. "I got a mind to go tell him what I think."

  "Don't butt in!" advised Bill. "Remember what you just went through backthere in Morania. That old bird may be the Emperor of Switzerland forall _you_ know!"

  Hank seized a passing caddie. "Hey, kid!" he ordered, "who is that oldchunk of trouble amblin' along there in the giddy plaids?"

  The caddie looked.

  "Over there?" he asked. "With the eyeglass?"

  "The same!" said Hank. "Now whose grandpappy is he?"

  "That's his grace the Duke of Mountjoy and Pewanit," said the boyglibly, "and he is waving to the Prime Minister."

  "Thanks!" said Hank. He passed on, and after a moment lifted up hisvoice in a sort of chant.

  "And the folks will say, 'What did you do with yourself when you wasn'tflyin'?' and I will say, 'Oh, we found a pretty decent Club. Old DookMountjoy-and-Thinggummy belongs. Used to meet him there with the PrimeMinister.'"

  Bill glared. "Honest; I tell you one thing right now. You can commenceto talk straight United States _NOW_ or we go back in separatedirigibles."

  "Aw, I'm just practicin'," Hank replied.

  "Not on _me_," said Bill. "Hurry up now, can't you see Mr. Ridgewaybeckonin' or can't you see anybody any more but dooks?"

  "I can see enough to guess it's dinner time," Hank returned cheerfully,and they hurried up to find that that was the very item Mr. Ridgewaywanted to discuss with them.

  Mr. Ridgeway seemed to be at home wherever his airship happened tolight, and signing the visitors' book, he took his party into thedining-room, where, in a secluded corner, they disposed of a fineluncheon and watched the people come and go.

  Mr. Ridgeway found a friend who was going right down into the countrywhere Mrs. Ridgeway was staying and he offered to take him and Lawrencedown with him.

  So here they parted, and for a long, long time Lawrence was to see nomore of the two clever, honest fellows who had gone through suchdangerous deeds with them. Lawrence watched them go off together towardthe aviation field where the dirigible was waiting.

  "A good pair," said Mr. Ridgeway. "Honest, faithful, and the best airmenthat one could ask. Almost as good as you, Lawrence boy. And now we willwait for our friend to take us to Gray Towers where we will find Mrs.Ridgeway. We will surprise her. She does not expect us so soon."

  The road to Gray Towers took them through the loveliest part of lovelyEngland. To Lawrence, it seemed a wonderful experience to bowl alongbetween trim hedges and high walls, then through wonderful forestpreserves and clean toy villages.

  Their host, Mr. Alden, lived on the estate next to Gray Towers, andgladly took them to the door of the old castle, although Mr. Ridgewayassured him that they could easily walk the short cut of two miles fromthe great gates to the door. Lawrence would have been glad of the walkwhen he got glimpses of the deer between the trees, and when dozens ofrabbits flashed across the road before them. Lawrence looked so pleasedand happy that Mr. Ridgeway put his arm about his shoulders, and asked,"Now aren't you glad you came?"

  "Are we going to stay here in these woods?" asked Lawrence.

  "Right here!" Mr. Ridgeway assured him. "The place belongs to mysister's husband. She married an Englishman, Lord Gray of Gray Towersand there," he added, "are the Towers themselves."

  A sort of awkwardness filled Lawrence. "I don't belong among suchpeople," he muttered, but Mr. Ridgeway either did not hear or did notwish to reply.

  They drew up at the broad steps, where carved lions stood on greatsquare blocks of stone.

  The friend, eager to get home, drove on as a lady came out of the doorand ran down the steps to meet them.

  She wore a kilted walking skirt and sweater, and the sun glinted on herfair hair in which the white showed plainly.

  "Hello, Sis!" called Mr. Ridgeway, hurrying to greet her. "How are youall, and where is that wife of mine?"

  "It is a wonder you wouldn't give us more warning of your arrival," saidthe lady. "That wife of yours has been in London for several days, andshe can't possibly return before tomorrow morning. Your wire did notcome in time. I have telephoned her, however, and she will call youlater."

  She turned inquiringly to Lawrence, and Mr. Ridgeway introduced him.

  "I am glad you came," said Lady Gray cordially. "I have two boys aboutyour age. You will be great friends, especially as they are both anxiousto fly."

  She studied him thoughtfully.

  "Whom does he remind you of, Hamilton?"

  "No one that I can think of," said Mr. Ridgeway.

  The lady sighed. "Come in!" she said.

  The two boys were nice chaps and asked a million questions whichLawrence was well able to answer. When he told them that he was goingback to the United States probably the next day, they refused toconsider it at all.

  But now that all the danger was over, and the thrills of the journey,Lawrence felt himself once more drowned in loneliness. All the cheeryaffection and the atmosphere of home oppressed him to the very soul.Even if his own people were poor, no matter how humble they were,Lawrence wanted them with a longing that was almost agony. He _had_ togo back! He _had_ to know!

  So he stood firm, although Mr. Ridgeway assured the boys that he wasgoing to have a good talk with Lawrence when they
went to bed, and hewas willing to bet that he could coax him to stay.

  "Go to bed early then!" cried the boys.

  It was early when they said good-night, and went up the wide stairs. Mr.Ridgeway was still suffering with his head and needed rest. As theyprepared for the night, he said:

  "Well, Lawrence, how do you like them all?"

  "They are fine!" said Lawrence heartily. "I think Lady Gray isbeautiful."

  "Not as beautiful as Mrs. Ridgeway," replied that lady's husband. "Youdon't get her look in a picture. Her beauty is her changing expressionand her color. The painting at home is magnificent, but it does not giveyou the right idea of her. When she is happy she looks like a girl. Ihave an awful crush on her, Lawrence." He laughed, and fumbled in hispocket. "This is the picture I like best," he said, taking out a pocketcase. "It was taken years ago for my birthday, and she has never hadanother that pleased me so well. It is just like her." He pulled thereading lamp over and laid the open case down on the table under thestrong light.

  Lawrence looked.

  For a moment he saw the picture clearly, and then as he stared, it swamoff in a sort of mist. He kept his eyes on it and it came back, andgazed gently, radiantly up at him. But he could not speak. He felt hisknees giving, his heart hammering. It couldn't be true! Something waswrong! With fingers that fumbled and shook, he felt for his own case,found it, dropped it, recovered it, and at last managed to open it andplace it beside the other.

  Then he groaned.

  "Eh?" said Mr. Ridgeway, coming back from the dresser. "Lovely, isn'tit?" He looked past Lawrence's bowed head at the two pictures, and witha great cry, seized them.

  "Lawrence...boy...merciful heavens...where did you get this...explain!"came bursting from his lips.

  Lawrence gently took his picture, felt under the photograph, and offeredthe two pieces of paper--the scrap written over with his name and thetorn bit of newspaper.

  "I was stolen," he said, his lips almost too dry and trembling forspeech. "My brother was drowned. I did not know until just before we setout. I have always had these. A woman said to keep them. She said theywould lead me to my people."

  So far Mr. Ridgeway had listened. Then with a great and terrible cry,the cry of a strong man who has been too brave to voice his agony andhas borne it for years, he took Lawrence to his heart.

  The tears of men and the embraces of men should be sacred, and it waswith a feeling that his soul had been washed clean of everything butthankfulness and love that Lawrence found himself sitting beside hisfather later when they were composed enough to talk. Mr. Ridgeway's armabout his son's shoulder still trembled, and their hands were stillclasped as though they were afraid of losing each other. Again and againthey told each other of the past, again and again Mr. Ridgeway wonderedif his wife would ever be able to stand the shock of joy.

  It was late when they heard the light footfall of Lady Gray as shepassed down the corridor to her room.

  "Let us tell her," said Mr. Ridgeway. "She will know what to do."

  He went to the door, and asked her to call her husband and come in.

  Their joy was as great as it could be when they really accepted thewonderful fact. It seemed as though no one _could_ go to sleep. Finallytoward morning they settled down, but Mr. Ridgeway could not close hiseyes, and Lawrence, although he obediently shut his, lay awake listeningto his father's uneasy breathing as he stared through the dawn at thebeloved son that had been given back to him.

  Lady Gray had warned them all not to tell the boys, as they might letthe news slip before her sister was prepared for it. So breakfast wasmade possible by their appeals to Lawrence to stay on and help thembuild a plane.

  As the time for Mrs. Ridgeway's return approached, Lawrence grew almostunbearably nervous. What if she should not like him? He brushed andrebrushed his hair. He had asked Mr. Ridgeway to tell her all beforethey met. Lawrence wanted his first sight of that pictured face to bethe face of his mother, not a stranger who would give him a friendlyhand to shake.

  So he ran, actually _ran_ for refuge to his room when he heard the motorcome up the winding drive. Gay voices and greetings floated up to hisopen window, but he could not look out.

  Downstairs his father would now be taking his wife into the dim library.He would draw her over to the divan and seat her in the circle of hisarm. Just as they had planned, he would tell her carefully and tenderlythat her son, her own son was found at last, that not both littlefellows had been doomed to the flood.

  "But what if she doesn't like me? What if she doesn't _want_ me?"Lawrence asked himself over and over.

  Time dragged on; it seemed the day had gone past, yet his watch hadcounted off but half an hour. He could not stand it! He took out thecase and, laying the picture on the table, gazed down into its tendereyes. Then, unable to bear it, he sank to his knees and put his faceagainst the picture.

  "Mother, what if you do not love me?" he asked, his heart starving.

  As if in answer, the door opened. Springing to his feet, Lawrencewheeled.

  She stood in the doorway, the picture itself, his Pretty; his mother!

  Their eyes met and held. She did not speak. She gave a little crooningcry. Her arms were wide and waiting.

  And Lawrence went home.

  THE END