CHAPTER FIVE of The Ark of the Covenant A Ghostly Ocean IT WAS three o'clock on the Tuesday morning, and Dan Lamont and myself were standing in the porch of Hazeldene with my father. The roadster was purring out on the avenue. The old man had the flimsy of a radio message in his hand. "Lord Almeric will be ready for you, and asks that you will pick up an extra passenger if possible," he said, "most likely his secretary. Can you do it?" "Sure," I replied. "That will be all right. Did he say anything about the ship's probable position at six o'clock?" "No. Here's his message--you'd better have it. And here's a note I have written to Lord Almeric." "You'd better have an automobile waiting for him and his secretary at the Battery from nine o'clock. We may make good time--it is fine flying weather.You'll be all right with Didcot on the Seven going across, dad. Well, so long!" "So long, son! 'Morning, Dan!" my father said. "Look after yourselves. You're fixed all right for food?" "Milliken is sure to have everything fixed," I told him. Just then Dick Schuyler, in a dressing-gown, came out of the house. "I've just been through to headquarters," he said. "There isn't much ice about, and flying conditions are good, Jimmy. You should pick the Parnassic up in no time." "Thanks, old man. Well, so long!" We roared down to the sheds in quick time, and found the Merlin afloat and ready, shining like silver under the arcs. Milliken had everything prepared, from extra wraps and food for the passengers, down to easy chairs in the cabin, and the fixing of the tank had been done in very workmanlike fashion. We were good for three thousand kilometres. We took off at three-fifteen, and I laid the course on a point or two north of east, quickly bringing the Merlin up to a steady four hundred kilometres the hour. It was reckoned that we should sight the Parnassic at a point six hundred and fifty kilometres east of Cape Cod, and two hundred and fifty south of Halifax, which gave us a thousand-odd kilometres of an outward voyage. It would have been easy that morning to fly by the stars, they were so clean and bright. Their light was reflected in a dusky sheen off the sea below. To the north, the Great Dipper was poised on the end of his handle. What clouds there were about were the merest wisps, and there wasn't a trace of fog. Danny, wrapped as if for a journey to the North Pole, sat at my side, a little behind where I was in the pilot's seat, and he leaned forward in interested silence to watch every move of my hands, but his eyes were shining with delight at his adventure. The murmur of the silenced engine came to us on a beautiful liquid note which showed clearly how thoroughly Milliken and his men had done their work. That excellent artificer sat on the floor at Danny's feet and leaned against the side of the cabin, his head cocked sideways to listen intently to the voice of the engine. There was nothing to do, for the Merlin was flying like an angel. The lights of steamer after steamer appeared faintly on the skyline, neared, and passed under us out of sight. On our port bow the coastwise lights winked and glowed, until at last Nantucket fell far astern, and in less than an hour's flying we had passed to the south of Cape Cod. When the clock on the control-board showed four-fifteen, I turned to Milliken. "Let down the aerial," I said, "and see if we can pick up the Parnassic." It was characteristic of the man that he knew the call and the wavelength without having to ask, and it was without any comment but a quick nod that he lowered the aerial and fixed the receiver to his ears. In a minute the cabin was filled with the blatter of the radio. "PNC! PNC! PNC!" He waited a little and repeated the call, then suddenly switched to the open receiver of the radiophone. A strange voice issued from the box and filled the cabin. "There's something the matter with the Parnassic's wireless," said the voice, "gone phut, or something. Who's calling her, anyhow?" "This is the seaplane Merlin," said Milliken. "Who are you?" "British steamship, Maramba," the voice replied. "Where are you?" Milliken looked at me. "Two hundred kilometres or so due east of Cape Cod," I told him, and he repeated it into the transmitter. "Looking for the Parnassic?" "That's the notion," said Milliken. "She should be somewhere round 43deg. north, 60deg. west. I say, there's something the matter-in this blinking ocean this morning--ghostses or something--gives you the creeps. Well, cheerio, Merlin!" said the English voice. "Is it cold up there?" "Not a bit of it, thanks," said Milliken. "Cheerio, Maramba!" "Cheerio and good luck!" Milliken looked to me for instructions. "Wait fifteen minutes, Milliken, and try her again," I told him. He pulled up the aerial, and almost without thinking what I was doing I opened the throttle. The hand of the speed-dial went steadily round to four-fifty, as the Merlin lunged forward with a keener note. "What's that glow that comes and goes on the horizon away to the left?" asked Danny, when fifteen minutes had elapsed. "It must be the light on Cape Sable," I said, with a look at the height register, which showed we were three thousand odd metres above sea level. "About a hundred and sixty kilometres away." Milliken was letting down the aerial again, and soon the radio once more was spluttering its "PNC! PNC! PNC!" But save for the steady song of the engine, no sound greeted our ears. Milliken tried again, and again, without result. An uneasy feeling took hold of me. "Haul in the aerial, Milliken," I said. "I'm going to let her go full out. Clamp the telephone receiver to your ears, Dan." Milliken spun the drum round, and turned to help Dan with the cap-receivers, which would cut out all noise except what could come through the phone, and then he did the same for me. When we were all fixed, I opened the cut-out, and gave the Merlin full throttle. The dial hand jerked round to five hundred kilometres and stayed put, for that was the limit of its register--but I knew we were going well over the five hundred. It was now fifteen minutes to five, and a cold grey had crept into the horizon ahead. Steadily, steadily, as we sped into the dawn, the light paled into silver and primrose, the floor of the sea passed from dull blue into a living purple flecked with green and silver. Minutes passed, the hand of the clock on the control-board dragging heavily, and again I felt that curious alertness of perception which I had experienced on and after the flight of the day before. It was more than alertness. It was an anticipation of things that were about to happen. And now, with the coming of the light, visibility decreased as a haze began to grow over the face of the sea. We dropped on a long angle to fifteen hundred metres. Here and there, the sea was dotted with steamers which, though visible to us, must have been out of sight of each other. These we could see were freighters and small liners. All three of us in the cabin of the Merlin were staring ahead, expecting to sight the great mass of the Parnassic at any moment, for the time was now well past five o'clock. As far as one could judge, we were nearing the position where the liner could be expected, but the haze below us was thickening quickly and, every minute, was lessening our range of vision. Soon it would mean casting circles in search. Suddenly Milliken touched me lightly on the shoulder and pointed. Ahead of us, four masts and three funnels pierced the mist. I throttled down and whipped into the silencer, then hovered down into a steep angle. We were over the ship in a few seconds. "There's something the matter there, Mr. Boon," said Milliken. "There's no way on her, and she's rolling broadside on." "My God!" cried Dan Lamont. "She has been abandoned!" A Close Shave THERE was something terrifying in the helplessness of the great liner. Broadside to the rollers, she lay sluggishly, swaying and veering amongst the oily hummocks, and about her was the silence of death itself. Not a soul stirred on her decks, and the thin wisp of steam that curled from one of her smoke-stacks was the only thing about her that moved. I know that my hands were shaking on the joystick, and it was all I could do to master the sick feeling that was creeping over me. We circled round her as slowly as we could, and coming as close as we dared. "Look!" I said. "There are dead men lying on the bridge!" "God in Heaven!" Dan Lamont cried, white to the lips. "What can have happened to them?" "I don't know," I muttered, "but we'll find out." I swung the Merlin closer still to the liner. "What are you going to do, sir?" Milliken cried apprehensively. "I am going to put the Merlin aboard her, if I can." "You'll smash her, sir!" "Maybe," I said madly, "but we're going aboard." "Don't try it sir! For God's sake, don't try it!" "Shut up! Milliken!" I said crossly--then realizing that he wasn't thinking of his own skin, but of his beloved Merlin, I grinned at him feebly. "It's all right, Milliken, I won't do anything rash. Let's reconnoitre." It was out of the question to try and bring the Merlin alongside the heaving freeboard of the liner. We would have had our wings smashed for a certainty. Nor was there space available to land on any of the decks, cluttered as they were with ventilators and deck gear. The only likely place to bring her aboard was on what appeared to be a long stretch of canvas covering the promenade deck astern, and it was a question if that would take her weight. Fortunately, there was no cordage much aft of the jiggermast, except for one stay coming down to the stern-post, and all halyards were reeved close to the mast. A ventilator or two pierced the awning. Though it was a terribly risky thing to attempt with the ship rolling as she did, it was the only chance, and I told Milliken what I proposed to do. "All right, Mr. Boon," he said. "There's nothing else for it--if we are to get aboard. I don't blame you." "What about you, Dan? It's a hundred to one you'll be smashed or spilled into the sea." "That's all right, Jimmy. Go ahead with it." "I'll get down on the floats, Mr. Boon," said Milliken; "might be handy to brace her if she topples." He fetched out a length of rope and cut it in two, then, taking off his coat, he slid through the hatch to the port-side float. I was depending on the Merlin's power of hovering to pull the thing off, so I took her up a bit to one side astern of the ship, gauging the distance to miss that after-stay. The ship, rolling horridly, came up to meet us. We were over the awning, then it veered from under us--I thought we'd missed it, when--back it swung--slowly. I flicked the rudder round to bring us into line with the ridge of the awning. We landed with a grinding shudder, then heeled sideways as if we'd never right. I had quite made up my mind that we were going to crash over on our back in the sea below--but after a sickening moment or two of suspense we righted! Dan, flat on the floor, with his head poked out of the hatch, let out a yell. "By Christopher, Jimmy!" he shouted. "Did you see that?" "What?" "Milliken! Oh, you Milliken!" It was Milliken who had saved us. Lying on the float, he had seized hold of one of the ventilators as we settled, and, with those amazingly powerful arms of his outstretched, had braced us as we toppled, otherwise we would have crashed overboard. Few men living could have done it. When I got down on top of the awning, my mechanic was composedly tying one of the float struts to the ventilator, and a very white face was all he showed of the superhuman effort he had put out. "Not much damage done, Mr. Boon," he said quietly. "Except that the starboard float has sprung a bit, I think." "Good for you, Milliken," was all the thanks I dared give him for saving our lives. "You stopped us from going overboard." Luckily for us, the canvas of the awning was stretched over stout boards, strongly supported, and these were sufficient to take the weight of the seaplane. Milliken lashed the opposite strut to another ventilator, and we all climbed down to the deck. The ship still was held by that awful silence, unbroken save for the lap-lapping of the sea about her, and I fancy all three of us were gripped by a sense of overwhelming awe as we went down the companionway, making for the gangway swung across the after well. From the gangway we saw, down below us, a number of seamen sprawled inertly in the scuppers and about the hatch. We called down to them, but they did not stir, and our voices, unnaturally thin, came back to us in eery echoes from the open hold. "Let's take the bridge first," I said. All Asleep WE ran up the ladders to the lower bridge, and in the chart-room we saw an officer lying on the floor in a heap. Dan went into the chart-room, while Milliken followed me to the upper bridge. Here we found two officers huddled behind the high canvas dodger, and in the wheelhouse behind, two seamen lay together, one of them face downwards with his arm rove through a quadrant of the wheel. It was as if the ship had been struck by a sudden plague. I don't know how Milliken felt about it for his ugly old face was a mask of stolid calm, but shivers were running up and down my spine. I kneeled beside the officer next to me. "He's breathing, Milliken!" I cried, and I gently shook the supine figure by the shoulders, but with a sigh the man only settled back more closely against the rails. "Try the other man," I told Milliken. My mechanic stepped over, and gently raised the officer--he was the chief--into a sitting position against his knee. The man opened his eyes and blinked at us, then with amazing suddenness was wide awake. "What the hell?" he said, and staggered to his feet. "Who are you? What are you doing on the bridge? Get off the brid--" His gaze fell on his brother officer. "Here! What have you been doing to Barr? You've killed him!" He was a huge man, and he made a move towards me with a look that was not very pleasant. "Don't be silly," I said, as quietly as I might. "He's asleep--the same as you have been." "What's the matter with the ship? God! She's adrift! What---" He stared at us, and passed his hand over his head. "Lord! I remember now-- but it was dark then---" Meantime Milliken had managed to waken the younger man, and just then Dan came up the ladder with the officer who had been lying on the floor of the chart-room. Only by his braided cap could one tell he was the captain, for he was in pyjamas with a thick blanket-coat over them "What's the matter, Mr. Boscence?" he demanded wildly. "It is two hours since we hove to--just before six bells in the middle watch--I've been asleep--or unconscious. This gentleman--what has happened to the ship?" "I don't rightly know, sir," the chief said, passing his hand over his head bewilderedly. "There's something queer here---" The captain stuck out his white torpedo beard. "Get some way on the ship. Ring down--" He whirled round to the wheelhouse as he spoke, and broke off. "For the love of God--look at the steersmen! What's come over the ship?" I nodded to Milliken, who ran into the caboose and woke the seamen quite easily. Dan looked at me in a dazed sort of way. "Jimmy!" he gasped. "It's Wall Street all over again! You'd better explain to the captain." "Where do you come from ?" the captain demanded. "How do you get aboard my ship? You're not passengers." "You're Commodore Sir Peter Weatherly, aren't you, sir?" I asked. "That's me," he snapped. "I'm James Boon, Sir Peter," I explained. "I've come out on my seaplane, the Merlin, to take Lord Almeric Pluscarden on shore. We found your ship adrift, and I managed to land my machine on your awning aft there. The whole ship has been doped, sir." "Ring down to the engine-room, can't you, Boscence?" the commodore said to his second in command, ignoring me. "We must have some way on her." "I have done so, sir," the bewildered chief officer replied. "I get no bell back from them." "If I might suggest something, Sir Peter," I ventured. "Let my mechanic, Milliken, go round with your officer here," indicating the younger man, "and waken up the crew." For a moment he stared at me as though trying to collect his thoughts, then he nodded briskly. "Do that, Barr," he ordered. "Wake the crew--though what on earth they should be asleep for beats me. And you, young man--Mr. Boon, you say you are--perhaps you'll explain as much as you can of this business." "This is my friend, Mr. Dan Lamont," I said. "He will bear out what I tell you, sir. But first, let me ask you to walk to where you can look into the after well---" "Come along, then--this way!" He led the way down to the boat deck, and made for the rail over the well. "God in Heaven!" he exclaimed. "My men! Are they dead?" "No, sir," said Dan. "I imagine they're asleep as you have been. They'll waken easily." "Come to my cabin, gentlemen," said the sailor. "I'm all adrift. I simply can't understand this thing at all." I must say that I admired the grip he had of himself, and his acceptance of what must have been a bewildering situation. He was alert and businesslike as he led the way back to the lower bridge. "Mr. Boscence," he called up to the chief officer. "The first thing to do is to get some way on the ship. Give Mr. Barr a hail, and tell him to turn out all the engine-room staff not on duty, and to send them down to--to wake their fellows. Tell them not to interfere with any of the passengers who may be on deck or in the saloons. Pass the word to such of the crew as may be stirring. Do you understand?" "Aye, sir!" He turned to Dan and myself. "You'll forgive any lack of courtesy in your welcome, I am sure. You were not expected to appear in circumstances such as these. Come with me, please. We won't go to my cabin. I must look after the ship. You can tell me what you know as we go along." We followed him below, but when we came to the smoking-saloon, and found there a number of passengers huddled like dead men round the card tables, or sprawled out on the floor, it was too much for the captain. "It is no use. I must get the hang of the thing first of all," he said."You'll have to tell me what it means. This morning at three o'clock I was called out of my bunk by word that a red riding-light was floating on the sea ahead. I turned out, and was immediately met by a message that had come over the wireless phone. It came from the U. S. battleship Argonne--or was supposed to come from her: 'Heave to immediately. Danger.' I passed the word to the bridge to obey the order, and made to follow. I had no sooner reached the chart-room-- I wanted my binoculars--when--well--the next thing I remember is being spoken to by this young man--Lamont, did you say? That's my side of it. Now, as clearly and as quickly as you can--what do you know?" With as few words as I could, I told him about Wall Street, of the mysterious sleep, and how the thieves had got away with two and a half millions in gold. "There was something about that came over the wireless yesterday," said the captain. "It's a very mysterious thing. You say that the folk round WallStreet were chloroformed--or whatever it is -- just as we've been?" "Exactly, sir." "Then--by thunder--they've been after the specie I'm carrying--a half a million sterling in gold!" Piracy HE darted off through the saloon doorway, and down an alleyway, Dan and I close to his heels. He stopped at a cabin labelled, "Purser," and banged on it, trying the handle at the same time. A fat little man opened the door, and blinked sleepily at us. "Quick, Strachan!" yelled the captain. "The second key of the strong-room! Hurry, man!" "What's the matter, sir ?" "Damn it, man! Don't argue! Put on some clothes and bring the key of the strong-room as fast as you can. Hurry!" He turned and banged past us back the way he had come, and up a companionway, Dan and I tagging after him. We followed him into his suite, beyond which was the strong-room. He needn't have worried about the key. Right in the middle of the steel door was a yawning hole, through which we saw, in a brilliant blaze of electric light, the disorder of smashed wooden cases. "Piracy, by God!" gasped Sir Peter. "Piracy on the high seas--and on my ship! It can't have been done from aboard the ship--they'd never get away with that weight of gold--half a million!" "Florins?" asked Dan. "Florins be damned!" said the captain. "Tenflorin pieces. Sovereigns!"*** "Phew! Nearly two and a half million in American dollars," I said--the British florin standing at that time at 2.42--"just about as much as they got out of Wall Street!" "Tell me, Mr. Boon," said the captain. "When you sighted us, was there any craft near us?" "Nothing within forty kilometres of you, Sir Peter--and certainly nothing up to doing that distance in the hour." "That cuts out an hour, leaving one for some craft to do the job in. They must have been damned smart!" Just then the purser came running in, and when he saw the strong-room door, he let out a wail of despair. Sir Peter cut the lamentations short. "Step down to Lord Almeric Pluscarden's cabin, Strachan," he said. "My compliments to him, and will he come here at once?" "But the strong-room, sir!--the strong-room! It has been broken into!" "Dammit, Strachan!" the captain said testily. "We can see that. Kindly take my message to Lord Almeric. Crying won't help us." He turned to a telephone on the wall of the cabin. "Lucky the exchange is automatic," he said grimly, "or I wouldn't be able to get through to my bridge, I suppose. That you, Boscence? Any report from the engine-room? Good! Now the first morning watch will come on duty, and be relieved at eight as usual. Carry on!" "The engine-room reports a good head of steam," he turned to us and said. "The automatic oil feed in the stoke-hold has been going on all the time. Ah, the engines!" We felt the vibration of the ship's engines under our feet as Lord Almeric Pluscarden came into the cabin. I had expected somehow to see an elderly man, probably white-haired and rubicund, but the newcomer was a slenderly built, dark-skinned, dark-haired man, apparently of about forty-odd, alert in manner, and athletic-looking. I found out later that he was close on sixty. "Hullo! What has happened, Weatherly?" he asked at once, when he saw the ravished strongroom. "I'm damned if I know, Lord Almeric," said the captain, with a finger pointed at the spoiled door, "but that's the chief thing that has happened. How it came about--well here's your pilot, Mr. Boon, and his friend, Mr. Lamont. They've got a story that'll take your breath away." "Kind of you to put your machine at my disposal, Mr. Boon," said Lord Almeric. "I'm afraid you've had a cold flight. Very sporting of you to accompany him, Mr. Lamont. I'm grateful to you both. And now--this story?" Between us Dan and I told of the Wall Street robberies, of our theories, and of our coming to the Parnassic. Lord Almeric asked a shrewd question or two, then Sir Peter gave a fuller account of the stopping of the ship. "I am very much a layman in aeronautical matters," Lord Almeric said when we had finished, "and I do not know if there are any other points to be made for or against your idea of the airship--beyond those you make yourselves. I must say you put a fair case, which is considerably strengthened by this act of piracy. Whatever may be the mode of operation, we are certainly faced by a remarkable organization. But I should not, if I were you, Weatherly, dismiss the possibility of the gold still remaining on the ship. I suggest that a thorough search be made of the ship and of the passengers' baggage. You will not, of course, except my luggage from examination." "Surely, Lord Almeric--" the captain protested. "I insist," said the other, "and I am sure that Miss Torrance will say the same. Miss Torrance," he explained to me--"if you can take her--is your other passenger, my niece and secretary." "Only too glad, Lord Almeric," said I, a little taken aback at the idea of carrying a woman. "But I'm afraid we damaged the starboard float getting aboard, and if we have to come down on the way back--well--it'll be a bit inconvenient. We'll get wet, at least." "You don't anticipate a forced descent, Mr. Boon?" "No," I said, "but you never know your luck. Then there's the difficulty of taking off from the awning." "Bless my soul," said Lord Almeric, "you don't mean to say that you put your seaplane aboard on the awning ?" "I did--and I'm afraid I've ripped off some of your canvas, Sir Peter, in doing it." "I'll worry about that, young man," the captain said, "when somebody has ripped a slab off the strong-room door, and ripped five million florins off my ship!" He glared at the damaged door, tugging his little beard the while as if to drag from it some solution of the mystery. "Fifty years I've been at sea," he said thickly, "man and boy, and, by thunder, I've never come across anything like it! It's bewildering--exasperating--God, it's heart-breaking! On my ship--Lord Almeric on my ship! The disgrace of it!" "Peter Weatherly," his lordship said, with something that was good to hear in his voice, "this piracy concerns me, as a governor of the Bank of England, very nearly--and I can tell you that for my own part not one atom of blame attaches to you." "But I stopped the ship, my lord, and gave the blighters their chance---" "For Heaven's sake, Peter," Lord Almeric said in an altered tone--equally good to hear--"get the ridiculous notion out of your head that anybody is going to pick a bone with you over anything you've done!" He went over and put a hand on the sailor's shoulder to shake him. "Be assured, old friend," he said. "It will take more than this to shake the clean record of fifty years!" "But it's such an exasperating thing! It leaves a fellow so helpless! I'm going through the ship with a fine sieve presently, but I feel it in my bones that whoever has swiped the kopecks has got clean away. Still, it has to be done. We can't leave anything to chance." "That is right," said Lord Almeric. "And now, I suppose I'd better be getting a start made. I shall put what you say to Miss Torrance, Mr. Boon--but if I know anything of her, it won't deter her from joining us. But you must have some breakfast--" "There's plenty to eat on the Merlin, Lord Almeric," said I, "and if the lady is coming, and won't mind picnicking for once--why, we'll get away as soon as Sir Peter will permit us." "I shall have to go over your boat for form's sake," said Sir Peter. "Come along. I'll do it now, and then we'll see what we can do to get you off without mishap." Another Blow IT WAS difficult to imagine, when we were on deck again, that only half an hour gone the ship had been peopled by folk apparently dead. The seamen were washing the decks and going about their ordinary work pretty much as if nothing had happened. If there was a tendency to get to work in pairs, it was nothing to notice, and the demeanour of the men spoke well for the discipline Sir Peter kept on his ship. "By thunder, young fellow," said the captain, when he saw how the seaplane lay, "you re not lacking in nerve! It must have been a ticklish business." And he added vulgarly: "She's as snug as a bug in a rug!" "It'll be a job to get her off," said I. "I hope you won't mind putting on a few of your hands to turn her, sir? "As many as you want," he said, "or as many as the awning will hold and bear the weight off. I'll take a look inside--so that I can give you clearance papers." He went up into the body of the machine, while I had a look at what Milliken was doing. Stout fellow that he is, he had rousted out the ship's smith, and together they had patched up the float where the aluminum had parted from the framework. If a little cockled, the float was as seaworthyas ever. Sir Peter came down from the cabin, and opened the floats. "I have to do it," he apologized, "for your sake as well as my own." "That's all right, sir--and if when you get to New York you need any help in giving evidence to the police, you'll find me at the National Metallurgical Bank-- Mr. Lamont and my mechanic, too." "Thanks, young man," said the sailor. "Now about these hands you want. Here you--Clarke!" he said to a seaman who was standing by. "Nip along to the officer on duty. My compliments, and will he kindly muster as many hands aft as he can spare?" "Aye, aye, sir!" I will say for the British seaman that he is a handy fellow. The Merlin was no small weight, but Milliken and a quartermaster, with the aid of a score of men and a few rollers, soon had the seaplane round with her engine pointing to sea on the port quarter. It was now a question whether we should risk taking off with our passengers aboard or get safely afloat--which was not at all a certainty-- and pick them up from one of the ship's boats. Lord Almeric appeared with his secretary, and she--well--- If I had thought of the secretary at all, I had thought of her as one of those efficient women, hard, competent--the sort of woman one can admire for qualities one would rather see in men. But Miss Torrance was just sheer girl. The littlest thing, until you got a good look at her, and then you saw that it was her ways rather than her size that gave the impression. She had the same clean look as my Merlin--silver and blue--only her hair was gold--and there was nothing the least bit cold about her. I was willing to bet that she was as competent as any he-woman alive, for when I took hold of her neat little hand on Lord Almeric's introduction, I was reminded somehow of Milliken's clever fist. I spoke to Lord Almeric about taking off. "I take it that you don't think you'll come a purler?" he asked. "There's a good chance that we may," said I. "I shouldn't like to have a lady aboard---" "You will make me feel extremely uncomfortable, Mr. Boon," Miss Torrance interposed, "if you don't treat me exactly as you would a man. We won't sink, if we do capsize?" "Oh, no." "Then it seems to me that we ought to risk it. Sir Peter has been delayed enough without having to put off a boat for me. Please don't consider me." I looked into her eyes. She was as genuine as the Koh-i-noor. "Thank you," I said. "Will you please step aboard, then?" We said our good-byes, and we all climbed aboard save Milliken, who stood on a float to swing the propeller and to give the signal for release. The score of men took hold of her wherever they could. Milliken swung the propeller. Contact! Full throttle. The Merlin gathered strength and began to slide. I waited until the ship began to rise on our side, then dropped my hand to Milliken--and we shot out over the water. Next moment we were circling the Parnassic to a cheer that was led by Sir Peter Weatherly himself, who stood sturdily on his damaged awning, and waved his braided cap in hearty farewell. The great ship began to gather way as we sped ahead of her. Milliken climbed through the hatch with his usual air of complete calm, and began to be busy with hampers of food. Presently, eating a sandwich the while, he silently ousted me from the pilot's seat so that I might break my fast. Naturally the main topic of conversation as we ate sandwiches and drank hot coffee was the piratical raid on the liner, but we soon exhausted the subject for lack of explanation of the mysterious sleep, and Miss Torrance then wanted to know what everything on the Merlin was for. Old Milliken, with a grin all over his ferocious mug, nodded at the wireless set. It was a bright idea and, having lowered the aerial, I fixed the receivers over her ears, switching into the phone attachment. "I can hear some one talking," she laughed delightedly, "and he's got the loveliest gruff voice! Oh, take this quick, somebody--something has happened to another ship!" I stopped her from taking off the cap, and switched into the open receiver. "Yes, sir!" came the harsh voice, with an unmistakable New England twang. "U.S. oil-carrying steamer, Westbury. We were slowed down by a red riding-light floating ahead of us, and a message came from the battleship Argonne, telling us to heave to because of danger ahead. At eight bells of the middle watch, sir. Since then we don't know a dern thing of anything, except that our forrard tank is short of three thousand litres of the highest grade aviation spirit by the gauge. Yes, sir. And there ain't a man on the ship, sir, that can say what was doin' in the last two hours. An' what I wanna know, sir, is--what the roustin' hell's bells of Jeeroosalum the United States navy's plain' at with one of the United States oil-freighters? I wanna know what prinked-up, bullion-ornamented, lime-juice-weaned sonofagun in a skin-tight u-ni-fo'm has had the sass---!" The rest was verbiage. I dissed the radio and looked at Dan and Lord Almeric, who were sitting side by side, open-mouthed. His lordship was the first to speak. "Farragut, by Jove!" he said. "Piracy plus the knowledge of the twentieth century!" To be continued in Vol.1 No. 2 of Air Wonder ***In 1932, when Britain and the U. S. A. adopted the metric system for weights and measures, the florin of 100 farthings became the British unit of money in a new decimal coinage.