Chapter XXXVI: The Abandoned Flying-Boat

WHITTINGHAME could now see the reason for the manoeuvre. One of the derricks of the stumpy foremast was swung outboard. Her donkey-engine began to work, and from the sea, with the water pouring out of her, was hoisted the waterlogged flying-boat.

The plane on her port-side had completely vanished, and only a few fragments of her starboard one remained. Standing amidships and steadying themselves by the spars of the lifting tackle were three men--Reno Durango and his Valderian crew.

When the crippled craft was half-way up the side of the tramp the donkey-engine stopped. The captain of the vessel, leaning over the bridge rail, shouted to the three castaways. Durango replied, vigorously shaking his head and gesticulating wildly in the direction of the "Meteor."

Apparently his protests were unavailing, for he grasped a rope trailing from the tramp's rail and clambered on board. His companions followed suit.

The argument proceeded. Evidently the master of the cargo vessel wished to steam towards the airship, and to this suggestion Durango demurred strongly. After a while the wrecked flying-boat was lowered into the water again, and the lifting tackle cast off, the Mexican pointing towards the abandoned craft and talking volubly.

With a shrug of his shoulders the skipper walked to the centre of the bridge and telegraphed to the engine-room. The tramp's propeller began to revolve, and the lumbering vessel gathered way.

For some moments Durango stood as if in despair, then leaning over the bridge-rail shook his fist at the disabled airship.

Through his binoculars Captain Whittinghame saw his expression clearly. The rogue, despite his own troubles and obvious disappointment, was gloating over his rival's misfortunes.

Without saying a word to his comrades in the observation room, Vaughan Whittinghame went below and made his way to the after engine-room, where Parsons was found lying on his back with portions of the partly-stripped motor all around him.

"How long, now?" asked the Captain.

"A couple of hours, maybe, sir," replied the engineer.

"Can you manage in an hour? The after-motors will be sufficient."

"I'll try my best, sir," replied Parsons, unwilling to commit himself.

"Very good; carry on," rejoined his superior, and without another word he left the engineer to do his level best towards restoring the motors to a state of efficiency.

"We are sixty-four miles east a quarter north of the Galapagos, sir," announced Dacres.

"Thank you," replied Vaughan. "Just one minute, Mr. Dacres; will you please come on deck with me?"

The sub followed his chief. Whittinghame said nothing more until the two officers were out of earshot and on the deck of the water-borne airship.

"There's the vessel whose lights you picked up an hour ago, Dacres."

"Yes, sir; has she communicated?"

"She apparently meant to, but changed her mind. Do you see something floating about two and a half miles dead to windward of us?"

The sub brought his telescope to bear in the direction indicated. It took him some time to locate the object, as it was almost in the reflected glare of the early morning sun.

"I have it, sir," he said.

"What do you make of it?"

"Cannot say, sir. Wreckage of some sort."

"It is," added Whittinghame. "More, it is the wreck of the flying-boat, and that rascal Durango has eluded us again."

"Surely he didn't survive the fall?"

"He did. I saw him boarding yonder tramp. Now, this is what I want you to do: take a compass bearing of the wreckage, and observe the direction and rate of our drift. In an hour Parsons hopes to have the after-propellers working. We will then forge ahead and investigate Durango's flying-boat. Do not say a word to any of the others until after breakfast. I know them: they would throw aside any idea of food until we are fit to get under way; and, with all due respect to their zeal, I am no believer in a man working on an empty stomach."

In exactly forty-nine minutes from the time that the Captain left the motor-room, Parsons had the engines ready for work. The fault, once discovered, was easy to remedy.

"Gentlemen," began the Captain after the morning meal was over, "I have unpleasant news to announce; but I can rely upon your co-operation sufficiently to know that you will face it with your characteristic determination. Reno Durango is not only alive, but he is on board the vessel we saw approaching us just before dawn. Fortunately we are no longer in a totally crippled state. Although the supply of ultra-hydrogen is insufficient to lift the bulk of the 'Meteor' our after-motors are once more in working order. I propose, therefore, to bring the 'Meteor' up to the wreck of the flying-boat and investigate. We will then take a drastic step. We will pump all the remaining ultra-hydrogen in Nos. 2 and compartments into Nos. 1 and 5; abandon and scuttle the first two compartments I have mentioned, and resume the pursuit in a 'Meteor' that will be only two-fifths of the size of the one that left England only a few weeks ago. I mean to chase that rascal as long as there is sufficient buoyancy to keep us in the air and as long as an ounce of cordite remains to actuate the motors."

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed the doctor, as if he were at a medical students' smoking concert. The others present contented themselves by inclining their heads, but resolution was plainly visible on their bronzed features.

The "Meteor" was navigated from the upper deck, her course set according to Dacres' observations. Meanwhile, owing to the now steady breeze the airship had drifted nearly five miles from the scene of the disaster.

"There she is, sir," shouted the look-out man, "a point on the starboard bow."

Travelling at a modest ten knots the waterborne craft made straight for the flying-boat that was lying practically awash in the slight swell. Owing to her immense bulk and to the fact that she had little or no grip upon the water the airship was almost unmanageable. To run to leeward of the wreck was to court disaster, for the thin aluminium plates were especially liable to be stove in should they come in contact with the water-logged craft.

"I'll swim to her, sir," said Dacres. "If we bring the 'Meteor' bows on to the wreckage I can easily take a light line to her and make her fast. She will serve as a good sea-anchor while we make investigations."

"How about sharks?" objected Whittinghame.

"Must risk that, sir. A couple of men with rifles will scare them off."

"Very good; I'll see that they are the best shots we have on board. I shouldn't like to see you plugged, Dacres--especially by one of our own men."

Dacres smiled, then proceeded to strip. Waiting till the "Meteor" was dead to leeward of the remains of the flying-boat, and moving ahead only enough to counteract the drift caused by the wind, the sub lowered himself over the bows. Round his waist was made fast one end of a length of mackerel-line, which though strong was not heavy enough to impede his progress.

"Pay out!" he shouted, at the same time slipping into the sea. The water was agreeably warm and remarkably buoyant. Dacres swam with ease, fifty strokes being sufficient to enable him to gain the wreck.

As he scrambled over the gunwale the boat dipped stern-foremost, but on sitting on one of the thwarts with the water up to his chin she quickly resumed a horizontal position.

Dacres' first act upon getting on board was to haul in the light line, to which was attached a stout grass rope. The latter he made fast to a bollard in the bows of the craft, which enabled the "Meteor" to ride comfortably to her practically submerged "mooring."

Considering the weight of her motors it seemed wonderful that the flying-boat kept awash, till the sub discovered that fore and aft were air-tight lockers. Indeed, the hull of the boat seemed but little damaged. Evidently as she was executing a loop she struck the water with very little speed in a vertical direction. It was certainly strange that Durango and his companion had not been hurled clear of her as she fell, and the only conclusion Dacres could come to was that the men when they felt their craft falling must have thrown themselves under the waterways and held on tightly during her erratic downward plunge.

"Much amiss?" shouted Captain Whittinghame.

"Very little, I believe, sir," replied Dacres. "She may be slightly strained."

"Is she fitted with slings?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, stand by; we'll haul you to windward and abreast of No. 3 section."

Evidently, thought Dacres, the skipper had some scheme in his mind's eye. Whittinghame had. It would be possible to stow the boat aboard the airship, for in her curtailed displacement there would be sufficient ultra-hydrogen to lift the slightly added weight. Should occasion serve the hull of the flying-boat, if repaired, would make a handy tender.

In response to an order several of the crew brought up stout fir spars from below. These they lashed to the deck, allowing their slightly tapered ends to project seven feet clear of the extreme beam of the airship. To these, stout purchase blocks and tackle were secured, the falls manned, and the lower blocks lowered to the water's edge.

It was now an easy matter to cant the airship sufficiently for the water-logged craft to be brought immediately under the improvised davits. Deftly the sub adjusted the hooks of the lower blocks and gave the word to haul away.

Under the heavy strain the "Meteor" took a list to starboard, and by the time the gunwales of the boat were a foot out of water the airship's decks were at an angle of fifteen degrees.

"She won't stand it, sir," expostulated Setchell, "unless we station at least twenty men on the port side."

"I don't mean her to," replied Vaughan Whittinghame. "Couple up a length of hose to the auxiliary pump. We'll soon throw the water clear of her. One blessing, it shows the boat's topsides are fairly tight. I was rather afraid of it, when I remember seeing the water pour from her as the tramp's derrick heaved away at her; but I suppose it was that she was not slung accurately. Any signs of the water leaking out of her, Mr. Dacres?"

"None, sir," replied the sub, who had now emerged from his liquid surroundings, and was perched upon the turtle back deck.

"Very good. We're sending down a hose."

Ten minutes later the pump sucked dry. Relieved of the weight of water the salvaged boat's keel was a foot clear of the surface, while the "Meteor" had practically recovered from her awkward list. The lightly constructed hull and the motor together weighed less than two-and-a-half hundredweight, so that on being hauled up level with the upper deck it was a comparatively easy matter to get the craft inboard and secure her on that part of the platform over No. 5 section.

Two of the crew, skilled shipwrights, at once proceeded to overhaul the planks, while Parsons and his assistant attended to the motor, which, owing to its comparatively short period of submergence, was hardly affected by the salt water.

It did not take Dacres long to resume his clothing and report himself ready to carry on with his duty, for there was much to be done and very little time in which to do it.

All the stores and gear that were absolutely essential were removed from those compartments that were to be abandoned, and carefully stored in the remaining divisions. The ultra-hydrogen was then exhausted and recharged into the ballonettes of the fore and aft sections. In an hour from the time of salving the flying-boat the "Meteor" was ready to shed her now superfluous 'midship divisions.

Meanwhile, Dacres and Gerald Whittinghame had carefully examined the interior of the hull of Durango's craft, but no trace of the submarine plans were forthcoming. Nor had Captain Whittinghame seen them in the Mexican's possession as he boarded the tramp steamer. During the chase Durango had been seen holding the precious documents ready to drop them into space, but none of the men in the "Meteor's" observationroom could state definitely what happened to them after the Mexican had been thrown upon the floor-boards of the boat.

"I wish I knew that they were actually destroyed," said Vaughan when the result of the search was reported to him. "Circumstantial evidence is always most unsatisfactory. However, Durango cannot get away from the ship until she touches port, and long before that I hope to be able to have a few words with him. All ready, there, Mr. Setchell?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"All clear aft, there?"

"Ay, ay, sir," replied Dr. Hambrough, who looked more like a South American stevedore than a member of an honourable profession, for he had neither spared himself nor his clothing in assisting to clear the condemned divisions of the airship.

Giving a final glance around to satisfy himself that all was in order, Captain Whittinghame touched the switch operating the cam-action bolts. Instantly the "Meteor" split into four separate divisions. The two central ones, stripped of heavy gear and with their ballonettes devoid of gas, rolled over and over on the surface of the sea, for very little water had as yet entered the scuttles, which had been left open.

The bow and stern sections shot upwards to a height of nearly a thousand feet. The bow division, being unable to be manoeuvred under motor-power, had to float aimlessly until the after section, skilfully steered under Dacres' direction, was brought end on and quickly secured.

The "Meteor," although now but four hundred and forty feet in length, was again fit to resume her pursuit of the arch-rogue, Reno Durango.

Vaughan Whittinghame showed no immediate desire to take up the chase. Gripping the stanchion rails he lent over the stern, his eyes fixed upon the two cylindrical objects far beneath him: the abandoned sections of his beloved airship. He watched them as they slowly filled. They were no longer lively, but wallowed sluggishly in the slight swell. They sank slowly: quite three-quarters of an hour elapsed ere one section slipped quietly beneath the waves. Its downward course was clearly visible long after it had sunk beneath the surface of the Pacific. Five minutes later No. 3 section plunged to its ocean bed--a sacrifice to the force of circumstances.

Whittinghame turned abruptly. His eyes looked suspiciously moist, but without a tremor in his voice he gave the order "Clear upper deck."