SEEING THE SULTAN.
"If it should please the gentleman in the bushy trousers who served as
chief of the reception committee to place some light repast before us,
he would at this moment fill a long-felt want."
Canby was not constructed to remain under a cloud for any lengthy
period, and he proceeded with his inimitable drawl to divert the dismal
train of thought.
"Turn me loose in the corridor out there with the fellow who
appropriated my revolvers," growled the fighting Macauley, "and I will
credit it up to a change of luck."
"Tut, tut, Danny, you must cease exercising your temper," chided Canby,
with a grin; "always meet misfortune with a May morning face."
"You go hang," replied "Daring Dan," who was compelled to smile in spite
of himself.
"Your suggestion respectfully turned down," bantered Canby, "and the
same to the Turk, even if he should insist upon it."
The Turkish officer who had brought the prisoners up from Marmora just
then made his appearance, accompanied by a couple of attendants, who
served an excellent brand of coffee to the captives, along with plates
of sweetmeats. When the two Britons finally located themselves behind
huge cigarettes, also presented by their captor, they were in a mood to
seek information as to the near future.
"We would be in great distress if the brave visitors should soon
depart," was the roundabout answer to the question of Canby as to what
he and his companions might expect, and the evasive words were spoken
with oriental gravity.
Macauley shrugged his shoulders. "Much good it does you to try and pump
him"--this an aside to his comrade.
The Turk raised his eyes, but by no other sign showed interest in or
desire to know what the Briton had said to his mate.
"May I have a word with the young gentlemen?"
The Turk bowed to Billy and Henri, who had been singularly silent for
them, and still engaged with some of the confections that came with the
coffee.
"Go ahead, your excellency," said the Bangor boy, returning the
salutation with a short nod.
"I must request that you go with me for a brief hour or two."
"But what about our friends here?" asked Henri.
"I beg that they will excuse you for a little while."
With this, the Turk stepped aside and motioned the boys to precede him
through the doorway. Having no other choice, the lads marched out, with
assurance to Macauley and Canby that they would return as soon as
permitted to do so.
"Hope it is all for your good that you are going," wished Canby.
"Same here," added "Daring Dan."
A ride of twenty minutes in a closed carriage, and the boys stepped out
in front of a large and lofty gate, the principal entrance to the
grounds of a palace, which, with its buildings, pavilions, gardens and
groves, occupied a large space.
"Pinch me and see if I'm awake," urged Billy, under his breath, and
Henri was equally stranded in his wonder.
Their guide seemed to grow in serious mien, and his attitude was one of
new importance. With bent head he led a long march through magnificent
halls, decorated more in European than oriental style, and finally a
splendid stairway with crystal balustrade was ascended to the second
floor of the palace, where the boys were ushered into a small, plainly
furnished private parlor, in marked contrast to its surroundings.
Seated on a divan, near a grate in which a cheerful fire was crackling,
and with several uniformed officers standing near, was a keen-eyed man,
wearing lightly a weight of years, and otherwise the conventional red
calpac or fez of Turkey, a low white collar, gray cravat, blue serge
suit and black shoes of comfortable cut, but no jewelry of any sort.
The officer standing nearest the divan, evidently of high rank, turned
to look at the boys, who, just inside of the door and nervously
fingering their caps, awaited some word that would set them straight.
The mentioned official, who was doing the looking over, also acted as
spokesman.
"These are the flying boys?" was the question he put to the guide.
The individual behind the lads nodded assent. He gently pushed his
charges closer to the questioner.
"You are the youths who guide airships, I believe?"
This interrogation straight at the boys.
"That is our business," modestly advanced Billy.
"You know also of their construction?"
"Yes, sir," replied the Bangor boy, "we are factory trained."
Then followed a series of questions relating to the heavier-than-air
machines, the rapid improvement thereof, the various types in use, the
duration of flight, carrying capacity, and so forth.
Warming to a subject so near to their hearts and so familiar by constant
contact and continuous practice, the boys alternated in detailing what
experience had taught them about modern aeronautics. They forgot to feel
like a cat in a strange garret, as at first entrance into the palace.
They also forgot mention that they had, not so long since, flown over
Constantinople in a Russian airship that left a stream of fire behind
it.
The man on the divan, the only one seated in the room, during the
practical exposition of the past, present and future of air mastery, had
listened attentively for some twenty minutes or more, when he indicated
by a slight movement of the hand that the statements already made would
suffice.
The boys backed out through the doorway, held to that movement by a
significant pressure on their elbows from behind.
Once outside the palace, and putting two and two together, the young
aviators might have guessed that they had not been very far away from
the first caliph of the Moslem world--the sultan himself.
The boys expected that they would be taken back to where they had left
their companions in misfortune, but this was evidently not the plan of
their guide and custodian. Instead, they proceeded straight to Golden
Horn Harbor, where they boarded the same steamer that had brought them
up from Marmora.
"Let's ask his nibs what's on the carpet now," suggested Billy, as they
stood on the deck of the vessel then getting under way.
"Might as well try to open a can of sardines with a wooden toothpick as
to get anything out of that fellow. But there is no harm in making
another attempt, just to while away the time."
To the surprise of Henri, he missed his guess on the silent Turk this
time. The boys' reception at the palace had raised their standing. The
officer told them that they were to repair the damaged aircraft as soon
as it could be done, and then pilot both war-planes to the capital.
Turkey needed all the aeroplanes it could get, and these had come
cheaply.
"Now let me tell you, Buddy," confided Henri, "we are not going to
contract to work around these diggings any longer than we can help; the
job doesn't appeal to me."
"Right you are, pard," agreed Billy, "we've been pulled and hauled
enough; I'd just like to volunteer to do something on my own account,
for a change."
After several days of scientific tinkering, Henri, ably assisted by his
chum, succeeded in reducing the fracture at the propeller end of the
crippled war-plane, and the machine again worked like a watch.
"What a rattling good chance to steal away in one of these machines if
we could somehow get rid of the busy watchers ever at our elbows."
"That's a great idea, Henri, but it would be catching a weasel asleep to
dodge that boss Turk who is charged with our keeping. If there has been
a waking moment for a week that he hasn't had his face within arm's
reach of us, I don't recollect it. And, Buddy, it has just occurred to
me that it wouldn't be a very joyful return, after all, pulling in
without the men who rode behind us into this trap."
"That's a thought that missed me," regretted Henri; "we'll just wait and
put something across that will count us all in."