A DROP FROM SPACE.
But even in that awful drop through space Ned's nerve did not desert
him. His brain worked faster, in the few seconds allowed it to do
effective work, than it had ever acted before.
Just as it seemed to those on board the battleship that the lad was
doomed--in the event of the pontoons not working--to be drowned in the
wreck of the aeroplane, they were astonished to see it recover and
rise, from the very wave tips, in a graceful curve.
Straight up it shot--the motor whirring and buzzing deafeningly. Then,
without an instant's hesitation, it dropped like a fish hawk toward the
stern platform, and a moment later Ned Strong and his aeroplane rested
on the solid foundation of the landing stage. The first flight from
land to a fighting ship's deck had been successfully performed, with
an added thrill thrown in for good measure, as it were.
Before Ned could clamber out of his seat, the officers, assembled
to view the test, came crowding up on the platform. The lad was not
embarrassed, but he felt a slight sense of shyness, which speedily wore
off, as so many dignitaries pressed about him, shaking his hand and
congratulating him.
"Jove, lad, but you gave us a fright for a minute!" exclaimed
one gray-mustached captain. "I didn't think it possible that a
heavier-than-air craft could recover from such a tumble as you took."
"Yes, tell us about it, lad," urged another naval dignitary.
"Well, gentlemen," said Ned, "I guess it was just one of those
accidents that will happen in the best-regulated aeroplanes. Something
went wrong with the warping appliances, that was all."
"Aren't your nerves shaken?" asked a young officer. "You'd better have
a glass of wine."
"Thank you, sir, I never touch alcoholic liquors," rejoined Ned simply.
"But I wouldn't mind a glass of water, sir. Flying is rather thirsty
work."
An orderly was at once dispatched for a carafe and a glass, and while
he was gone Ned obtained leave to locate and repair the break that had
come so close to causing him disaster. It was soon found, and a new
turnbuckle put on in place of the one that had cracked when a flaw in
its construction parted.
By this time every jackie who could find business in the after part of
the ship was on the decks below. A sea of faces was upturned to gaze at
the flying marvel.
Questions flew thick and fast.
"Would it be possible to carry a sharpshooter, for instance, from the
deck of this vessel, circle a hostile craft and return?" asked one of
the naval officers standing about.
"I think so, sir," was Ned's response.
"Well, providing you feel there is no danger, why not try such an
experiment?" asked Commander Dunham, Ned's old chief officer.
"I should like to, above all things, sir," rejoined Ned, with sparkling
eyes; "but who will go?"
"I think you will have no lack of volunteers," smiled Commander Dunham,
as half a dozen young ensigns and midshipmen pressed forward. "Mr.
Shrike, I think you are as good a subject as any. At any rate, sir,
your weight will not seriously embarrass the craft."
Mr. Shrike proved to be an extremely thin young midshipman, whose
weight, as Commander Dunham had humorously hinted, was not excessive.
In fact, among his intimates he was known as "The Shrimp."
He lost no time in preparing for the ride, providing himself with a
light rifle. When all was in readiness, Ned showed him where to sit,
and how to hold on, and then, the aeroplane having already been swung
about, he started up the engine once more. Several blue-jackets had
been detailed to hold the machine back, and at a given signal from Ned
they let go. The aeroplane shot from the platform out over the stern
of the battleship, and soared out above the sea. As they shot past Old
Glory, waving proudly at the stern, Ned saluted with one hand. The
young middy at his side followed his example.
The aeroplane took a perilous swoop as she dropped from the platform,
but Ned had his craft well in hand. He averted the drop with a quick
movement and speedily swung out seaward.
"See, there is a small sloop off there," said Midshipman Shrike
presently. "Let's try if we can circle it, just as if it were a hostile
vessel."
"Very well, sir," rejoined Ned, and steered straight for a white sail
glistening some distance out at sea.
Closer and closer they drew to it, and before long they could see men
on its deck pointing upward excitedly.
"They've seen us, anyway," laughed the middy. "Wonder if they think
we're some big sort of a gull?"
Suddenly, as they drew closer to the sloop, Ned saw one of the men go
in the cabin for a moment and emerge with a gun--or at least something
that looked like one.
"Hullo! What's that fellow doing now?" asked Midshipman Shrike, as he
saw this. "Is that a gun he has there, Strong?"
"Looks like it, sir," rejoined Ned, "and he's----"
"Aiming at us, by Jove! Hi, there, you rascal, put that gun down!"
A puff of smoke came simultaneously with the words. It was followed by
a screaming sound, as a bullet whizzed past the aerial voyagers. It was
followed by another and another, the rifle evidently being a repeater.
"I say, I can't stand this any longer," shrilled the middy, as Ned
kept the aeroplane swinging in rapid circles. As he spoke, he jerked
the rifle to his shoulder, and, with a cry of "Stop that shooting
instantly!" fired a shot across the sloop's bow. Ned could see the
white water whipped up as the bullet ricochetted.
But, in firing his weapon, the young officer had released his hold with
both hands. At the same instant a puff of wind swung the aeroplane
sharply on her beam ends. Ned righted her instantly, but, as he did so,
he was horrified to observe that he was alone.
The sharp lurch had dislodged his companion, and below Ned saw him
whirling downward. The midshipman's body struck the water close by the
sloop and instantly vanished.
With the automatic movements of one in a nightmare, Ned dropped
downward. As he did so, he was immensely relieved to see the young
officer's head bob up to the surface for an instant. Ned shouted and an
answering hail came upward.
"Thank heaven, I've got the pontoons on," he thought.
But even while his mind and body were thus busied, Ned had time to
observe the sloop. She had taken advantage of the puff of wind, and
was now rapidly slipping off toward a not far distant point of land.
Ned's eye took in her every detail. She was black and squat, yet with a
certain raciness of line, and heavily canvassed. Round her bulwarks ran
a bright crimson line. She bore no name that Ned could see.
The aeroplane struck the water with a splash that threw the spray high
above her planes. But the pontoons saved her from being submerged. A
moment after she had struck the surface of the water she was floating
like a sea-bird on its surface.
"Ahoy, there!" came a hail.
Ned glanced in the direction and saw the young middy striking out
boldly for the floating aeroplane.
"Hurt, sir?" demanded Ned.
"Not a bit; the water's fine," was the cheery response. "But, confound
it all, I've lost my rifle."
Ned swung the aeroplane round, using the regular aerial propellers to
drive her over the water. It was not many minutes before a dripping but
cheerful middy was seated once more by his side.
"I say, Strong," he remarked, "I guess the less said about this
adventure the better. You understand. I had no business to fire at
those chaps on the sloop, as a matter of fact, but I couldn't help it.
What do you think they fired at us for?"
"I've no idea, sir," was Ned's reply.
"Guess they were crazy, or had been drinking, or something."
"Possibly that was it, Mr. Shrike." But in the Dreadnought Boy's mind
he had reached a far different conclusion. The shots that whistled
about them had not been aimed by any irresponsible hand, of that he was
sure. They had been aimed to do harm. That they had not succeeded was
due to good fortune more than anything else. There were only certain
men whom Ned could think of who could be guilty of such an outrage.
Those men were the implacable enemies of himself and Herc.
"Better cruise about a bit till I get dried out," said the middy
presently. "If they ask us why we dropped like that, I'll say we were
trying out the pontoons, eh?"
Ned agreed. He did not countenance untruths or an approach to them, as
a rule, but in this case he felt that to tell the whole story might
get Midshipman Shrike in trouble, as well as involve him in some
difficulties. However, he resolved that if questions were asked, he
would tell the truth, as he would then have no other recourse. But, to
his relief, no interrogations were put to him, and he supposed that the
midshipman had explained the case, as was, indeed, the fact.
Soon after their return, Ned winged back to the shore. Here he was the
recipient of more congratulations, but his mind was busy elsewhere
than with his signal triumph in aerial navigation. As soon as he got
a chance, he sought out Herc. The astonishment of the freckle-faced
Dreadnought Boy, on hearing the news, may be imagined.
"Then you are sure that it was Muller and that crowd?" he asked.
"Practically certain," rejoined Ned. "Who else would have done such a
thing?"
"Do you think they have some rendezvous in the neighborhood?"
"I'm sure of it. Their possession of the sloop indicates that. I'd like
to unearth their hiding-place and put the rascals to rout."
"So would I," agreed Herc, "and maybe we will. At any rate, that sloop
should be easy to identify."
"Yes. We'll keep a bright lookout, and perhaps before long we may have
something tangible to work on."
That time was to come sooner than they expected.