LIEUTENANT VIBACH
The first scene was a comedy one. Vibach's car was waiting outside the
hotel, and the soldier chauffeur would almost certainly know that I was
not the lieutenant, and how to fool him till we were out of Lingen was
no easy problem.
Still it was no time to count risks; so I drew my cap well down,
buttoned my overcoat as high over my face as possible, and pretended to
be drunk.
It was all ridiculously easy. Pulitz, the hotel proprietor, met me in
the hall with obsequious servility, hoping I had enjoyed my lunch. I
swore at him in true Vibach style, cursed the lunch, told him to give
me the bill, swore again at the charge as an imposition, and lurched
out hiccoughing profanity and demanding my car.
Truly the gods were on my side, for it turned out that the chauffeur
had gone to get something to eat. The car was mine; and a very
excellent car it was. I lurched up to the wheel with the assistance of
Pulitz, who waited on me bare-headed in obvious awe of the uniform,
started the engine, growled out an order that the man was to wait for
me, and still hiccoughing profanity, fumbled with the levers, and drove
away.
I laughed in my sleeve as I rattled past Fischer's shop and saw him and
Braun at the door in earnest conversation, probably canvassing the
reason for my lengthy absence. Braun saluted me and I lifted a hand in
response. What would he have done had he known!
I let the car rip along to Ellendorf. The sooner I reached the factory,
the sooner I should get away--if I was to get away at all, that was. So
far as could be judged only one really serious danger threatened
me--that Vibach was known to the people at the factory--and even that
might be averted, by giving another name and vamping a reason to
explain his absence.
Any one who knows the attitude of the average German civilian toward
the army will understand the strength of the cards I held. The
officer's uniform, an army motor, the fact that Vibach was expected,
the possession of an official authority duly signed and stamped, all
these were so many self-evident proofs of my good faith, thoroughly
calculated to impose on even a sharp-witted business man. If I were
accepted as Vibach, nothing short of some stupid blunder could cause
the scheme to fail. There was scarcely room even for a blunder, indeed,
for the plan seemed almost fool proof.
It was nevertheless only prudent to consider what was to be done,
should the unexpected happen. It was clearly best not to give my name
until I was sure that Vibach was unknown, and to have a story ready to
account for his absence. His name was in the order, and no doubt there
would be difficulties raised about delivering the bus to any one else.
That could be got over by saying he had told me to see that it was
ready for him, and a little manoeuvring would probably allow of my
going for a trial spin. They might send up a mechanic or a
representative of the firm with me; but that would be no great matter.
Once we were off the ground, he could be readily dealt with.
I had burnt my boats now and was in too tight a corner to stick at
anything, even violence, to win my way to escape.
If even the trial trip was refused, it would still be possible to get
away under the pretence of testing the engine. Let me be on board with
the engine going, it would need a lot of mechanics to keep me from
making a start.
There remained the chance that even this might not be possible,
however, and in that case the only thing to be done was to leave the
place under a cloud of vituperative indignation and threats. For this
possibility, it was necessary to leave the motor where I could reach it
readily and without trouble.
The opening scene was all that could be desired. The fact that I was
expected caused me to be led at once to the managing proprietor, whose
name was Harden; he received me with all the respect due to my uniform;
put me at ease by expressing a regret that he had never had the
pleasure of seeing me before, although he had heard of my prowess in
the air; and declared that he felt honoured at making my personal
acquaintance.
I was condescendingly patronizing, thanked him a little boastfully for
his compliment, and got to business.
"You have everything ready, of course?" I asked.
"Quite. I'll have the plane run out," was the reply as he rang his
table bell and gave an order that No. 14 should be made ready for me at
once. "Have you tried one of ours yet?" he asked as the clerk went out.
"I expect so, but I'm not sure. I've been up in so many."
"You've seen the specifications for the new make, of course."
"I should like to glance over them again."
"It will be an honour to explain the new improvements;" and he produced
the plans and drawings and told me all about them, pointing to various
differences and improvements, especially those which were his own
inventions, on which he enlarged with immense self-satisfaction.
I had my own reasons for studying the drawings carefully, and
condescended to flatter him on his inventive ingenuity. All this took
up some time and I began to be anxious to start. I suggested that I had
better have a look at No. 14; and we went out together.
She was a beauty and no mistake; but to my chagrin the men had damaged
one of the planes slightly in getting her out of the hangar. Only a
simple matter involving renewal of a couple of the wire supports; but
it meant a loss of time, and I had an uneasy speculation as to what was
happening in that hotel bedroom at Lingen.
I ordered the men to be quick about the repair, and was watching them
when some one came out to tell Harden he was wanted on the telephone.
This was not on the agenda and I sensed unpleasantness. There were two
other planes on the field close to No. 14, and I strolled over to see
if their petrol tanks were full, under the pretence of curiosity. It
was a case of any port in a storm.
There wasn't a gallon in the two, so my curiosity died instantly. I
returned to hurry on the work with No. 14. The men knew their job and
had all but finished it, when Harden came out wearing a look of worried
perplexity.
"May I beg a moment with you, Lieutenant?" he asked.
"Certainly. What is it? Nothing gone wrong, I hope."
"That telephone call was from Lingen, from Captain Schiller; and I
can't make head or tail of it. You will not be offended with me, I
trust, if I tell you what he says--what I understood him to say, at
least."
"My dear Mr. Harden, I hope I am not so foolish."
"Well, he appears to be under the impression that you are not here."
I burst out laughing. "Poor Schiller! He's always got a bee in his
bonnet; keeps a regular hive always on tap. I wonder what the devil has
put that rot into his head."
"From what I could gather--I trust you'll pardon my even mentioning
it--he appears to think that you were too--well, that you had had more
wine at the Halbermond for it to be quite safe for you to go."
I cursed Schiller, whoever he might be, volubly and sincerely, for an
interfering jackass. "I think you can settle that for yourself, Harden."
"Oh yes, I told him so, but--but his reply was--was very singular. He
said that you had had to be assisted into your car at Lingen, that it
wasn't possible you could have thrown off the effects in the short
time, and, in fact, that if you appeared to have done so, you could not
be Lieutenant Vibach."
More cursing of Schiller from me. "He'll have to answer for this, I can
assure you," I exclaimed fiercely. "What did you reply?"
"I explained the exceedingly awkward position in which it placed me;
and he instructed me very peremptorily on no account to deliver No. 14
to you, even in face of the army order. Of course I was at a loss, so I
asked him to speak to you on the telephone."
"I'd better do that," I replied readily. "There'll be the devil to pay
if I don't turn up with it and the Colonel's told I was too drunk to go
up. Schiller must be mad; stark, staring mad. He'll get me cashiered."
"He's holding the line, if you will come to my office."
It was the deuce of a crisis, and how to get over it worried me. But as
we neared the office a thought struck me. "Look here, Harden, this must
be met somehow. I'll get Schiller to run over here at once and we must
be ready with proofs that I'm as sober as a judge and perfectly fit to
take up No. 14. I understand your position entirely and don't mean you
to be compromised in any way. I won't ask you to deliver No. 14; but I
shall be personally obliged if you'll have the petrol tank of one of
those planes out there filled, or any other you like, of course, and
I'll show him whether I'm fit to take No. 14 up. Your evidence, too,
may save me from absolute shipwreck."
"I'll do it with pleasure;" and he turned back to give the orders to
the mechanics, while I went to the telephone in his office.
"Hullo!" I called.
"That you, Harden?" came the reply in an excited tone.
"Yes." I was likely to get more information as Harden, and tried to
imitate his voice.
"I didn't recognize your voice for the moment. You haven't parted with
No. 14, I hope?"
"No. Lieutenant Vibach's coming to speak to you."
"That's all right. This is a thousand times more serious than I knew
just now. Vibach's here."
"What!" I cried.
"It's true. I've seen him. He's been half-killed, drugged, and stripped
of his uniform. He was found locked in a wardrobe of one of the
Halbermond's bedrooms."
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, appropriately flabbergasted. "Then who's
the man here?"
"The ruffian who did it, of course. Evidently a plot to get hold of one
of our newest planes. The ruffian has stolen Vibach's uniform so as to
personate him."
"Never heard such a thing in my life. What shall I do?"
"Keep him till we can get over."
"But he's armed, I expect."
"He'll have Vibach's revolver, of course. You'll have to be careful.
Perhaps the best thing will be to keep him in play. Let him think
you're going to give him the bus, and let your men tinker with it for a
quarter of an hour or so; I shall be with you by then; and when he
speaks to me, I'll put him off the scent by saying I can't get over for
an hour."
"I can manage that easily. He's coming now," I said, hearing Harden's
voice in the outer room. I paused a moment or two, shuffled my feet,
and then spoke in my own voice. "You there, Schiller?" I asked sharply.
"Yes. That you, Vibach?"
"I should think it is. Look here, what the dickens is this tale you've
been telling about me?"
He repeated the pith of what he had first told Harden, explaining that
he was quite as anxious for my safety as for that of the plane. Harden
entered as he was speaking, told me the bus was nearly ready and that
he wished to say a word to Schiller when I'd finished. I nodded; and as
he could only hear my half of the conversation, of course, I dovetailed
it in to fit the position. The result was good enough to incline me to
put a saint's halo round the head of the man who invented the 'phone.
"Of course that puts a different look on it, but you really ought to be
more careful, Schiller. I'm as sober as a judge, man; Harden's standing
by me now and he'll tell you the same in a minute."
"He told me so; but I was bound to take notice of what I heard. We
can't risk the life of one of our best airmen and the loss of our
newest type of bus----"
"Don't talk rot, man. I was never fitter in my life than I am at this
moment. I've just arranged with Harden to prove that by taking up one
of the old ones here."
This woke him up. "Eh? What's that?"
"Don't fool like that. Of course I'm not. Just a little spin round to
show him that I can take charge of No. 14 all right."
"You'd better not do that, Vibach."
"Of course he does, man. Do you think he doesn't know enough to tell
whether a man's drunk or sober. I can't make you out."
"Wait till I come over, Vibach. I can't get away directly; but I'll be
with you in about an hour."
I laughed. "That shows which you're thinking of most, the bus or the
pilot. But all the same I'm glad you approve the scheme. I don't
want----"
"Let me speak to Harden a moment," he burst in very sharply. "I've
forgotten something I want to tell him."
"Of course I'll be careful, you silly ass."
"Did you hear what I said, Vibach?" he demanded in the tone of
impatient authority. "Tell Harden to speak to me at once."
"Has that mechanic of mine turned up?"
Whoever Schiller might be, he was a hot-tempered fellow and curses
began to be waved over the line. Intelligible enough, seeing that I had
told him how I meant to escape.
"Not, eh? Well, clap him under arrest when he does. And look here, that
woodenhead Fritz who drove me over chose to leave the car just when I
wanted him to bring me here. That must be dealt with too. It might have
been most serious. Any one could have run off with the car, you know."
Even this gratuitous piece of further information did not soothe him
and more curses came along.
I laughed. "I thought you'd like to know that, Schiller."
The laugh provoked him beautifully and stimulated his blasphemy as he
ordered me again to let Harden speak to him.
"I can't very well do that, can I? You'll understand why."
"What the devil do you mean by that?"
"Think, man, think. It would stop my getting off with No. 14 in time to
reach Schipphasen before dark, if I were to wait an hour before making
this trial trip."
"But you mustn't do anything till I come, Vibach," he growled.
"Good. I thought you'd see that." I paused and added: "Of course I
will. I've told him we're awfully obliged to him. All right, good-bye.
Don't make it longer than an hour. The days are none too long."
I made as if to hang up the receiver when Harden put out his hand to
take it. That was according to specification; and I started as if
remembering he wished to speak to Schiller, stumbled against a chair
behind me, nearly fell, holding tight to the receiver, and in
recovering myself, pulled it clean off the flex and put the 'phone out
of action.
A mouthful of apologies for my clumsiness was met by a smile from the
good simple man whose conviction of my good faith had been assured by
the half of the conversation he had overheard.
"It is of no consequence at all. My people will put it right in a few
minutes," he declared, little guessing what those few minutes meant to
me. "What I had to say to Captain Schiller can quite well wait until he
arrives," he added.
"He may be a bit put out, but I'll explain that it was my fault
entirely. He reckons to be over in about an hour," I said as we
returned to the field; "and that will give us nice time for the little
experimental flight--our little bit of convincing evidence, eh? He
likes the idea, and is as much obliged to you as I am."
"I am only too pleased to be of any service, I assure you. I myself
should be quite prepared to deliver No. 14 to you; but I hope you'll
understand my position."
"Certainly, Harden, certainly. Just as clearly as I do my own. I
shouldn't think of taking it until he comes. He's a good man to keep in
with; a bit crochetty, but influential. It placed you in a nasty fix,
and you couldn't do otherwise than you have."
"It's a great relief to me to hear you say that, and please don't talk
about obligation."
"That's all right; but Schiller's a useful man to oblige. What sort of
a plane is this?" I asked as we reached the men.
"An old type, but quite reliable. We use it for lessons chiefly. The
petrol tank filled, Max?" he asked the foreman.
"Yes, sir; but there's something wrong with the engine; keeps missing
fire," was the reply.
Pleasant news, seeing that in about ten minutes the mysterious Schiller
would be on the scene raising Cain!
"Take long to put right, Max?" asked Harden.
"Can't exactly say, sir. I can't quite get at the mischief yet."
"Let's have a look at her," said Harden; and he and the man wasted five
of the invaluable minutes over the examination.
There was only one thing to do. The way out being closed, I must get
away in the car.
"It doesn't matter, Harden. After all it's not necessary, you know."
"I'm afraid it would take an hour or two at least," he said, looking up
from the engine. "I'm really most annoyed about it."
"Well, I'll stroll back to my car, I've left some papers there I want;"
and I turned away when Max made a suggestion.
"There's a No. 5 over there. She's not so good as No. 2 here, but she
could take the lieutenant up. I filled her tank in case, when I found
No. 2 was wrong."
"Why didn't you say so before, Max?" cried Harden.
If he had, he would have saved me from a very nasty heart spasm. As it
was, there would only just be time to get off safely. But it might have
been fatal to appear in any hurry, so I strolled over casually to the
No. 5, pretended to look her over, as if time was no sort of
consideration, and was climbing into the fuselage when we heard the
furious tooting of a motor horn in the distance.
"Hullo, what can that be?" exclaimed Harden.
"Sounds as if some one had had a breakdown and was tooting for help," I
suggested with a smile.
A few seconds later the horn sounded again; much nearer this time.
Schiller was in a hurry and no mistake. But all this hurry wouldn't
help him now. The bus was an old type needing the help of the mechanics
to get moving, and Max struggled with the propeller to start her.
There was a little difficulty and I held my breath. It was a matter of
seconds now; seconds which meant life or death to me.
Fortunately Max knew his job thoroughly and knew the bus also and its
little peculiarities. He got her going, just as the horn sounded once
more and an officer, followed by a couple of soldiers and police, came
running round the corner of the buildings and out towards us, shouting
furiously and waving their arms.
I shoved the lever and the bus began to move.
"It's Captain Schiller; he's waving to us to stop," cried Harden.
It was just too late. "He'll be able to see me start," I called over my
shoulder. "Give him my love and tell him he ought to have been here
sooner."
"What do you mean?" shouted Harden.
"He'll know," I yelled. The noise of the engine probably drowned the
words, for she was running sweetly; the bus lifted like a bird in reply
to the touch of the controls; and I was off.
Not without a cheering salute from the captain, however. I wasn't far
away before a bullet grazed the edge of the right plane, and glancing
round I saw his soldiers emptying their magazines in the hope of
satisfying his loving desire to embrace me.
They were tremendously busy. But it's no easy job to bring a bus down
with a rifle bullet, and the majority of Bosches are mighty poor shots;
so I didn't worry about it, began to climb, pointing for the frontier,
and was soon out of range.
My last glimpse earthwards showed me a little group of dots hurrying to
and fro excitedly, like a number of disturbed ants infuriated by the
ruin of their nest.
No doubt that was about the condition of things in that Ellendorf nest.
Rather a pity I couldn't be present, perhaps.
But it didn't seem worth while to go back.
I could enjoy the scene sufficiently from the air.