Back and forth from Blackgang Chine to The Needles along one of the most rugged and lofty coasts of England raced the two ships. A half-dozen times Bill could have blown the low-wing monoplane out of the air with his explosive shells, but he wanted to take Mordecai Murphy alive. He was entirely convinced now that Sandy was right. That the man was Moredcai Murphy and also the Saver of Souls.
Suddenly, the black monoplane was zooming up underneath him with its single machine gun spewing burst after burst. Lead chewed through the leading edge of his port before he could slam the Lancer out of range.
The monoplane roared upward until it almost stalled, then flipped over and came down on Bill's tail as he started a sweeping turn to the left.
Bill heard the chatter of Sandy's 80-caliber machine gun as he half-rolled out of that deadly hail of lead. The next moment they had leveled off again and were roaring at one another with terrific speed. Bill's fingers clamped down on his gun trips, only to have Murphy slip the monoplane away. He came up and around in a lightning like chandelle and dived on the speeding black ship. But when he clamped down on his trips the monoplane crabbed out from under his sights as though some unseen hated had flicked it out of danger.
Bill shook his head in disgust as he realized that he had underestimated the skill of Mordecai Murphy again. Because he knew the Lancer was superior to Murphy's ship he was hot bearing down hard enough. He was letting Murphy slip away from him, knowing in the back of his mind that he could shoot him down at any time if he wanted to. But he was trying to puncture his tanks instead of wounding him. He wanted him alive to tell his story.
Then they were roaring at one another again with their guns vomiting fire and death. And this time Mordecai Murphy swerved his little black monoplane in to the left for a death-dealing burst of fire just before they passed. Bill kicked the Lancer off to his right to avoid the monoplane as it zoomed upward.
They came up and back, each in a flashing chandelle, and now Murphy seemed determined to stay in the fight instead of running away. He was handling his ship with uncanny skill as they roared at each other again at terrific speed.
Again Murphy pounced in to his left just before the two ships passed. But this time his gun was silent and he did not zoom upward to avoid a crash. Instead he held it hard on until it was too late for Bill to realize his mad intent. The tips of the props of the two ships bit into each other with a blood-curdling Impact as metal met metal. The crash was like a mighty clap of thunder. For one terrible moment they hung together, seemingly leashed, dangling in midair.
Then they fell away and began a twisting, tortuous descent toward the delicately colored cliffs of Alum Bay, just beyond the gaunt, projecting rocks reaching up to embrace them that were The Needles.
Bill Barnes struggled with all the power of his will to get his eyes open. The dim room rolled around him in a dizzy circle that left him sick.
“Take it easy. Bill,” he heard a vaguely familiar voice say, a voice tense with anxiety.
“He'll be all right in a bit,” another voice said, and he was conscious of something cool being rubbed over his face.
“Easy, easily, old chap,” another voice said, and he could feel a restraining hand on his arm as he tried to struggle upward.
Finally, he collapsed backward and closed his eyes again. After a time he opened them. Things no longer danced before him. He gazed at the anxious blue eyes and freckled face of young Sandy Sanders until he recognized it.
“Hello, kid,” he said. “What the hell happened?”
“Do you remember anything, Barnes?” another voice said, and when Bill studied its owner's face for a moment he recognized the Duke of Malbury.
“A little,” he said weakly. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days, Bill!” Sandy said. “And was I worried!”
“What happened?” Bill asked again.
“We were tangled up with Mordecai Murphy, the Saver of Souls,” Sandy said. “He rammed us.”
“Am I all right?” Bill asked.
“Just a bad concussion and bruises, and a broken arm,” Sandy said. “You've been conscious but delirious.”
“Listen!” Bill said. “Did Murphy talk? Did he tell the truth about the Memphis?”
“He couldn't talk. Bill,” Malbury said. “He's dead. But we got Duncan. “
We found him aboard Murphy's yacht at Cowes. That's where Murphy was headed when you followed him. We found Duncan and we thought there must be some connection because he was the head of International Airways. He finally talked. The whole story has been released just as you told it to me. All of England has been praying for your recovery.”
A man who looked like a doctor said. “You'd better not tax his strength too much at first, sir.”
“Wait a minute,” Bill said. “What happened to you, Malbury? Evidently Lord Hereburn found you.”
“Yes,” Malbury said grimly. “They found me. I was being detained, to put it mildly. But you'd better rest now. Bill. A surgeon had to perform an operation to relieve the pressure on your brain. You'll be all right in time but you'll need a long rest.”
“Yeah,” Bill said, and he managed a thin grin. “A holiday! That's what I came over here for. What about you, kid? Didn't you get banged up at all?”
“Just a few bruises and a couple of cuts on my head when I rammed it into my crash pad,” Sandy said.
“He did a really masterly job,” Malbury said. “He brought the Lancer out of a spin without any power and set her down right side up.”
“What about the Lancer?” Bill asked.
“She'll need a lot of patching up.”
Sandy said doubtfully. “I learned of an amphibian airplane factory on the Isle of Wight. I had her hauled over there.”
“Good work,” Bill said. “How soon do I get out of this place?”
“In a few days',” Malbury said. “You were lucky you didn't have a fracture.
When you get out you're coming up to Arunwav Castle for a good long rest.”
“Yeah,” Bill said again. “For a holiday!”
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Document ID: af36e528-c8b6-4a8a-bb57-249351fcc1b6
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Document creation date: 21.10.2012
Created using: calibre 0.9.3, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
George L. Eaton
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Bill Barnes Takes a Holiday Page 6
