could get no reply. Suddenly at the end of ten minutes he began to
adjust his receiving apparatus very carefully with his right hand,
while with his left hand he pressed the telephone receiver tightly into
his ear. He continued this for several minutes and then with a sigh of
disappointment relaxed.
“What’s the trouble,” asked Commodore Heathcote.
“I couldn’t raise Commander Fitzgerald’s ship,” replied the operator,
“but I heard very faint signals that sounded like the sending of the
pirate operator. I thought perhaps he was using a small powered set.
I tried to amplify the signals, but it was no use. He was sending
something but I couldn’t make out what it was.”
“That’s strange,” said the air officer, “I wonder what’s happened.
In any case if that was the pirate it means that he is still flying,
otherwise he wouldn’t be sending by wireless. I wonder why Fitzgerald
doesn’t reply.”
“Oh, here he is now, sir,” said the operator, “he’s sending something.
Wait now.”
Picking up a pencil the operator began to write the following:
“Why do you impose such a condition. Why don’t you act like a man. You
ought to take a fair chance or none at all.”
“Is that what he said?” asked Heathcote, and receiving an answer in the
affirmative continued, “I wonder what he means? That certainly sounds
funny.”
The operator listened in for several minutes but no further messages
were sent. He had just made up his mind to call up Fitzgerald when
signals began coming in. Turning to Commodore Heathcote the operator
exclaimed.
“Here’s Commander Fitzgerald calling us now, Sir.”
The operator answered the call, and then began to write:
“Heathcote Honolulu: We sighted the pirate flying in circles at
approximate altitude of twenty-five thousand. At that time we were
in widespread formation at fifteen thousand. I gave order to ascend
to twenty-five thousand. The pirate continued flying on his circular
course until we came within range.
“I ordered our machines to open fire at three thousand yards, and
the pirate returned it. Suddenly he straightened out his course and
commenced to fly due north. We followed up, but he evidently had
greatly superior speed and greater climbing ability. We started the
chase but he soon outdistanced us, and he is now disappearing over the
northern horizon. We were making two hundred miles an hour, but he must
be doing close to three hundred miles an hour. We were hopelessly
outclassed. Just as he was disappearing we received a call from him by
wireless. He sent us the following message:
“‘You took us by surprise today, and we weren’t ready to engage you. We
are not afraid of your superior numbers. We are going back to our base
for more ammunition. We shall be back at the same position tomorrow at
this time, and will join action with you on the following conditions:
that you do not bring any more airplanes with you than you have today;
that no other machines are held in reserve; and that you do not send
any destroyers or cruisers to this position. We are willing to give you
battle on those terms. By the way, we promised to give Miss Ingleton a
flight tomorrow.’
“You can easily see the significance of that last sentence. I
will discuss this with you by cable when we get back to our
base.--Fitzgerald.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Three hours after the dramatic scene had been enacted in Mid-Pacific,
Commander Fitzgerald and his squadron landed at their base on
Wake Island. After ordering the mechanics to examine the machines
thoroughly, Fitzgerald went to the telegraph office where, with the aid
of the operator, he resumed his conversation with Commodore Heathcote
at Honolulu. It began with a detailed description of the remarkable
encounter with the pirate over the vast expanse of the Pacific. It
told of the receipt of the wireless challenge from the pirate with its
sardonic conclusion and continued with Fitzgerald exclaiming:
“My God, Heathcote, it looks as though he were carrying Miss Ingleton
with him as a shield wherever he goes. It certainly complicates the
situation for us.”
“It’s a terrible dilemma,” agreed Heathcote, “but we’ve got a duty to
perform. Don’t you think perhaps that the last part of his message is a
bluff to scare us off and insure his immunity from attack?”
“It may be,” came back the answer, “but we can’t afford to take any
chance on it.”
“That may be true,” replied Heathcote, “and there’s no doubt that if
you attack him you will jeopardize the life of Miss Ingleton, but we
must not allow the last circumstance to deter us from making the attack.
“The pirate may not be as careful of life in future attacks as he has
been in the past if he gets the impression that he has secured immunity
from attack by the presence of Miss Ingleton on board. It is a stern
situation that faces us, but my judgement is that we have a duty
confronting us, and that we must perform that duty irrespective of the
consequences.”
“It may be just a blind to cover up his operations somewhere else,”
said Fitzgerald.
“Well, if it’s a plant,” replied Heathcote, “we will have to take care
of the situation to the best of our ability with the other squadrons.
They have all been advised now and are on the alert. If he’s on the
level about coming to the same position, it’s a good chance to have a
go at him. You ought to be able to take his measure with your squadron,
if he will stand the fight and not take advantage of his great speed.”
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Fitzgerald shot back, “I desire nothing
better than to try conclusions with him, and I’m anxious to get back
there. I was only discussing the possibilities of the situation so
that we couldn’t get left anywhere. You don’t realize how serious the
situation is with me, old man. I may as well tell you right now that
I am desperately in love with Miss Ingleton and would willingly give
my life for her, and now I am placed in a position where by doing my
duty I may take her life. Oh, I know the dictates of duty allow but one
decision, but I’m human. Besides, I have another duty to her parents.
I promised them to take care of her under all circumstances. Don’t you
see what a difficult position I am in?”
“Yes, I understand,” replied Heathcote, “and I certainly sympathize
with you, but it seems to me the best thing to do under the
circumstances will be for you to proceed to the position we located
him in yesterday, with your squadron fully prepared to engage him. You
ought to arrange to arrive there as nearly as possible at the same
time as today. I’ll tell my wireless operator and the operators at
Guam and Manila to keep a sharp lookout for him. If he starts sending
by wireless we can check up on his position and let you know where he
is. If he does show up I think that you ought to engage him and take a
chance of disabling him if possible. If you could do that and compel
him to alight on the surface of the ocean there might be a chance of
saving Miss Ingleton. What do you think?”
“Alright then, I’ll go back to that position at the same time
tomorrow,” replied Fitzgerald, “I’ll be ready to engage him if he shows
up. I’ll also be on the lookout for any communication from you. I’ll do
the best I can and instruct every pilot in my squadron to do likewise.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The following day dawned fair and clear, and with everything
prearranged Fitzgerald and his squadron set out again to the rendezvous
with the pirate, but without the keen desire and light-heartedness that
marked their departure on the previous day.
Fitzgerald’s heart was heavy with fear but he was now on his way
determined to engage the pirate no matter what the consequences to his
beloved might be. For the moment he was a man prompted in his actions
solely by the strength of a single determination.
From the time his squadron left its base at Wake Island a hundred ears
listened patiently but anxiously upon the various islands for the
outcome, and the operators at the three big naval wireless stations
were keenly alert on their jobs. Each minute that slowly passed by was
almost a lifetime of concentrated effort for them. For two long weary
hours this condition prevailed. Then came the break in the monotony,
as all three simultaneously heard the signals of the pirate’s wireless
voice.
Feverishly they worked with their Direction Finders. Each moment was
precious, as there was no telling when the pirate operator would cease
his voluntary effort, particularly as he must be fully aware by this
time that his tell-tale signals were betraying his location to the
alert ears of the government operators. Still he continued sending as
though blissfully ignorant of the fact.
A few moments of intensive work on the part of the naval operators
completed their important task, and a brief cable intercommunication
gave the operator at Honolulu all three bearings. These the latter
quickly worked out on the chart. The resulting position showed the
pirate was practically in the same locality that he had been detected
in the previous day. Shortly before this Commodore Heathcote had
entered the wireless room to await the outcome of the situation, and he
went over the position with the operator.
“Well, that’s alright,” said Heathcote; then as though thinking aloud,
he continued, “It shows he has kept the first part of his challenge.
Now if he’ll only stand a fight we may get him, but can we save Miss
Ingleton, that’s the question? There’s another thing that I’m worried
about too, and that’s his willingness to fight. He has already shown
that he possesses superior speed to us and he may have another surprise
up his sleeve as far as fighting is concerned. I can think of no other
reason for his apparent willingness to accept a fight against greater
odds. Still if he has such a surprise we might as well learn it by
experience now as later. It may mean the safety of Miss Ingleton.
Anyway once we know what it is we can take steps to meet it in the
future. One thing I’m sure of and that is Fitzgerald will give him a
good fight even if it means sacrificing Miss Ingleton. He puts duty
above everything else.”
Then to the operator he said:
“Call up Fitzgerald and tell him by code we’ve located the pirate in
the same position.”
This the operator did, and then for slightly more than an hour another
weary wait ensued for the watchers ashore. Presently came the signal
from Fitzgerald that he had sighted the pirate, and this was followed
twenty minutes later by the three letter code indicating the battle
had opened between the man who had outlawed himself and the organized
forces of government.
It was the signal for anxious moments in the wireless station, where
the full significance of the momentous battle was fully understood.
Would the pirate stand his ground to the conclusion of the encounter
and risk Miss Ingleton and himself, or would he again take advantage of
his great speed and flee from the scene at the critical moment of the
fight? Did he have Miss Ingleton aboard, as he intimated he would in
his wireless challenge? Had he really some battle surprise to spring on
his unwary but numerous opponents?
These questions were to be fully answered within a short time, but in
the period of uncertain waiting that had to elapse before the outcome
of the battle could be learned every possible angle of the tense
dramatic situation revolved again and again within their minds.
For ten epochal minutes they waited and then came another three letter
code signal from Fitzgerald. Air Commodore Heathcote quickly decoded it.
“It says the engagement is now general. That means the pirate is
standing his ground and risking everything. Now we’ll soon know whether
he has got any surprise in store for us or not.”
For another fifteen minutes the watchers at the wireless station waited
with as much patience as they could command. Then suddenly the operator
with almost imperceptible movement straightened up in his chair, picked
up his pencil and began to write:
“R. C. G.”
“Good God!” exclaimed Heathcote, “that means the pirate has been
vanquished. Get Fitzgerald back as quick as you can and ask him to give
us a brief outline of the fight right away. Ask him if Miss Ingleton
was saved. My God, get him quick! This suspense is killing.”
Without waiting to reply the operator grasped his key and sent out the
call, while the air commodore leaned over his shoulder impatiently. In
a few minutes the answer came back:
“I am flying direct to Honolulu, but will stop at Johnston Island
for fuel. I will make a complete report. We have won the victory,
but I have lost my soul. The pirate airplane was shot down and sank
immediately with all hands, including Miss Ingleton.”
Heathcote read the message word by word mechanically as the operator
wrote it down. Then in a brief flash its full significance sank
deep within his mind, and he collapsed in his chair from the mental
overstrain.
“Oh! my God!” he exclaimed weakly. “Have we done right. What shall I
do.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hour after hour Heathcote, a prey to conflicting emotions, waited with
patience at the landing beach of the Pearl Harbor seaplane station for
the arrival of Fitzgerald from the scene of action. Ten hours after the
momentous battle in the skies had been fought the leading pursuit plane
of number two squadron hove in sight and quickly came to a landing in
the bay.
As it drew up alongside the landing beach, mechanics waded out and
carried Commander Fitzgerald back on their shoulders to the beach. He
was almost exhausted from the long physical and mental strain he had
undergone. Heathcote rushed over to him, and grasping him by the arm,
almost shouted in his anxiety.
“Come over to my office quick, and tell me all about it.”
The two men walked over to the executive buildings and entered
Heathcote’s office, where Fitzgerald literally fell into a chair from
exhaustion and explained:
“Get me a stimulant of some kind, and then I’ll tell you what happened.”
A few moments later he began his narrative of the encounter with the
pirate:
“We arrived at the position and found conditions about the same as
yesterday,” he began. “The pirate was circling around at about the
same altitude. I had maneuvered to the north of him to be in a better
position in case he should determine to run.
“As soon as we came within 3,000 yards of him I was about to give the
signal to open fire, when he began to send us a message on his short
range wireless set. In it he said:
“‘I see you have complied with the conditions I stated yesterday. Are
you still determined to fight?’
“I told him I was, and then he said:
“‘Well, I thought it was only fair to tell you that I have Miss
Ingleton on board. She is coming out to wave to you.’
“By this time we were pretty close to the pirate’s machine. As he
finished sending a figure from the forward gunner’s cockpit, and, after
standing upright a few moments as though in doubt, began to wave to
us rather weakly. The figure was clad in flying clothes and it was
impossible to recognize who it was. There was, however, something about
the waving of the arm that suggested a feminine rather than a masculine
gesture. In my mind there was no doubt that it was Miss Ingleton.
“The sight of her standing there helpless at the pirate’s mercy, and
undoubtedly compelled to do his bidding, made me see red. It was a good
thing for the pirate that he was not near me at the time. I could have
torn him limb from limb in my fury.
“The effect on the rest of my squadron was the same. I had discussed
the situation fully with my pilots before we left Wake Island and had
impressed upon them the fact that duty was paramount to everything.
Despite their anger at the pirate’s tactics they were not at all
anxious to be instrumental in the death of a woman. Still they were
ready to obey my orders.
“I signaled back to the pirate to get ready for action because I
was going to attack immediately and not waste any further time in
theatricals. That’s what I told him. There was a change of figures in
the forward cockpit of the pirate’s machine, which was undoubtedly the
gunner taking the place of Miss Ingleton who went inside the machine.
“I gave the order to engage and all our ships opened fire with
incendiary shells. The pirate answered vigorously. We soon found
the range but he began a series of lightning-like maneuvers that
demonstrated the remarkable qualities of his machine, particularly in
its ability for rapid climb. He commenced to climb, and we followed
him, but we were outclassed.
“He was putting up a magnificent fight, and with the advantage of
maneuvrability in his favor, he succeeded in shooting down two of our
machines in the first two minutes of the encounter. This loss fired the
rest of our squadron with the desire to finish the pirate once for all.
“The action was now general. Our men were firing every time there was
an opportunity. The advantage of superior maneuvring ability enjoyed by
the pirate, however, put him in a favorable position of immunity from
concentrated attack, because we were so numerous there was a chance
that we might hit one another. Consequently our men were only firing
when they got an absolute sight on the pirate’s machine.
“After a few minutes indulged in these tactics the pirate began a rapid
descent, and we followed him as closely as possible. The battle was
continued throughout the maneuvre of descent.
“Down came the pirate until he wasn’t more than a hundred feet from
the surface of the ocean. In this position he went through a number of
rapid evolutions fighting desperately all the time. At this altitude
he showed considerable daring and succeeded in downing another of our
machines. Our men were having more difficulty at the low altitude,
especially while turning.
“Quite suddenly it was noticed that the forward gunner on the pirate
machine was missing from his position, and for several seconds there
had not been a shot fired from any part of his machine at all. Before
the pirate could resume action one of our ships seemed to get a lucky
hit, and the most remarkable thing I have ever seen occurred. The wings
of the pirate machine literally crumpled up, and it plunged into the
sea. It was not a nose dive, because he went under at a wide angle with
terrific speed, leaving a tremendous wash of water behind. The whole
thing happened so quickly that it was impossible to give an accurate
description of the scene.
“We cruised around for a few minutes, but there was no further sign of
the pirate’s machine. It had disappeared completely and carried all
hands with it. We had hoped to be able to rescue Miss Ingleton, and I
landed on the surface and cruised around near the scene looking for
every possible chance to do this, but our efforts were in vain. There
was not a single trace left of him. Apparently he had sunk absolutely
and completely. There was not even a trace of oil on the surface where
he disappeared.
“I am sorry to say that Flight Lieutenants Frank, Evans and Dallinger
were killed in the action together with their gunners and mechanics.
Their machines were completely lost, and we were unable to render them
any assistance. That is our story, all there is of it.”
As he concluded, Fitzgerald rose to his feet unsteadily. A marked
change had come over him as he reached the climax of his dramatic
story. He was plainly in the throes of dispair. Upon his face there was
a look of horror, and his hands were tightly clenched by the intensity
of his feelings. His whole frame shook violently as he raised his arms
and then shouted with a frenzy that was almost histerical:
“I have done my duty,--yes, I have done my duty, but I have damned
my heart and soul. For the rest of my life the vision of my beloved
standing irresolute and waving her arm with such hesitant fear in the
pirate’s machine will be forever before me. I cannot cast it from my
mind. It remains to prey upon my conscience. I have done my duty, but
at what a price,--I am through. Oh! my God! I’ve killed the woman I
love!”
The light of passion died out in Fitzgerald’s eyes. He wavered a moment
upon his tired feet and then collapsed from sheer exhaustion and mental
agony. Heathcote rushed over to him and with some difficulty managed
to get him into a chair. He then reached for restoratives and began to
apply them.
As he worked the door of his office opened. Heathcote looked up. On
the threshold stood Arthur Ingleton, former secretary of the Navy.
For several seconds the two men looked at each other, then Ingleton
exclaimed:
“Tell me, what has happened to my daughter?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thus came the climax to the most remarkable piratical adventure in
history. Glaring headlines in the newspapers throughout the world
told the story of the dramatic battle in the skies and brought a sigh
of relief to the inhabitants of every country that the menace of the
pirate had been removed. Editorials galore were written pointing out
the futility of such excursions into outlawry and praising the action
of organized government that planned and executed so successfully the
measures against the man who had placed himself outside the pale of the
law.
Although the news of the pirate’s demise brought a feeling of
satisfaction to the world in general to two persons in Honolulu it
brought calamity. To one, a father, it brought grief over the tragic
death of his only daughter and fear for the recovery of his wife who
had been prostrated from shock ever since the forcible abduction of
her daughter by the pirate. To the other, the victor over the pirate,
after a brief moment of merciful oblivion, it brought a state of
collapse of all his forces of vitality which set in as a result of the
complications that had followed upon his physical fatigue and grave
mental anguish.
Fitzgerald’s condition had become so serious after his collapse that
it had been necessary to remove him immediately to the post hospital.
There physicians were attempting to restore him, but his mental
condition was such that they expressed grave fears over the chances of
his recovery.
By one of the strangest freaks of fortune, Arthur Ingleton had arrived
on the transpacific airship at Honolulu at the dramatic moment in
Fitzgerald’s narrative. He arrived to begin the quest for his daughter,
only to learn that she had been killed.
His was a tragic quandary. On the one hand he found his mission set to
naught at its very inception by the irony of fate, and on the other
he was confronted with the task of breaking the news to his wife who
was already in a serious condition as the result of the abduction of
her daughter. What effect would the news of her death have upon his
wife? He dreaded the thought. He had already made inquiries as to her
condition to telephone immediately after his arrival. When told how
serious her condition was he had agreed with the hospital authorities
that it would be best not to tell her of his arrival before he had
surveyed the situation. Now all he had to tell her, when greeting her,
was that Mary was dead.
As he pondered over the situation he realized that he must think before
acting. “I cannot tell her yet,” he told himself, “because the news
would kill her. Yet I cannot permit her to build up false hopes as the
effect of the final announcement might be equally grave. I must await
before seeing her and plan out some means whereby the shock of the news
will be minimized.”
For two days he was impaled upon the horns of his dilemma, with no
escape in sight. It was more than two months since his wife had been
carried to the hospital after her daughter was taken on the pirate
machine. He himself had not been able to get to Honolulu before because
of the interruption in the transpacific airship schedules caused by
the presence and activity of the pirate. His wife was convalescing
very slowly, and while much better physically, was still in such a
mental state that her physicians counseled against anything that might
cause her further shock. He had consulted with them, told them of the
situation as soon as he had learned Fitzgerald’s story and asked their
advice. They told him it were best for the present to keep the news of
their daughter’s death from his wife, and also that it would be better
for him to wait further before seeing her, particularly as she would
unquestionably ask him about Mary.