“Well, young men, I’ve good news--truly surprising news for you,”
said Major Baldwin Honeywell, as he shook hands with Ned and Alan
the next morning when they returned to the offices of the Universal
Transportation Company.
“We hope that you’re right, Major,” answered Ned. “What is the good
news?”
“First let me ask you a question. How much did it cost you to build the
_Ocean Flyer_ and at what figure do you estimate the time you spent
upon it, the only model of its kind yet completed? Your mechanism,
parts, et cetera, are, of course, fully protected by international
patents. The question is simply: For how much will you sell the _Ocean
Flyer_ just as she stands there in our Newark factory?”
“The machine itself cost us about twenty-five thousand dollars, Major.
I should say that the market value of the craft itself, allowing
compensation for our time and the fact that the airship is absolutely
unique, ought to make it worth at least a hundred and fifty or two
hundred thousand dollars.”
Major Honeywell was rubbing his hands delightedly.
“Fine, fine! I knew that you would estimate it at about that amount.
Boys, what do you say to a prospective purchaser who is willing to pay
three hundred thousand dollars spot cash for this single model, leaving
the company full patent and all further construction rights?”
“But the machine isn’t for sale at any price,” said Alan quietly. “We
intend to use it ourselves immediately, and until we are finished with
it, no consideration would tempt us to sell.”
“But, Alan--boys!--think of the sum you are offered: twelve times the
actual cost, if the new owners are given immediate possession, and
providing you agree not to dispose of another similar machine within a
period of one year. You can build another airship just like the _Flyer_
within two or three months at the longest, and you are at liberty to
use it yourselves as you may please. To what immediate use can you
put the vessel that will in any way compensate for the loss of three
hundred thousand dollars in cold cash?”
“Major,” said Alan, “we are deeply grateful for your interest in the
matter, but we feel that we can’t look at it as a mere matter of
dollars and cents just now. Something a great deal more valuable to us
is at stake--the life of Bob Russell, whom you know.”
Then Alan went on to tell Major Honeywell all about Bob’s predicament
and how they proposed to save him. The old gentleman’s face grew more
and more grave as he listened, and several times he shook his head
disapprovingly.
“But, my dear boys,” he exclaimed, after Alan had concluded outlining
their plans, “have you sufficiently considered the terrible dangers
that you incur by this rash procedure? Quite aside from the momentary
probability of aerial mishap, you must realize that the Germans would
shoot you without scruple under the circumstances. Moreover, the entire
United States government would be powerless to help you if once you
were caught in a breach of neutrality laws, as your act certainly would
be construed.”
“Thank you kindly for the well-meant word of caution, Major,” answered
Alan, “but there is nothing you could say which would make us give up
this chance of saving poor Bob’s life.”
“Then, if that is the case, here is my hand, boys, and my heartiest
well wishes go with you. While I cannot conscientiously endorse so
dangerous a proceeding, I still can admire the pluck which prompts it.”
Both boys flushed under their kindly old friend’s praise, and Ned, who
up to this time had played the part of a listener, said:
“Just who were these prospective purchasers of the _Ocean Flyer_? Why
did they insist on taking immediate possession of it, and why the
stipulation that we were to sell no other similar airship to anyone
else within one year’s time?”
Major Honeywell shook his head.
“I am as much in the dark in that regard as you are, Ned. Just before
you arrived this morning, I was visited by a Mr. Phillips, whose
business it is to act as go-between and buyer for concerns which do not
wish their own names to appear in a transaction. Mr. Phillips would not
state for whom he was acting or for what purpose the _Flyer_ was to
be used, but said that he was authorized to pay spot cash for it. He
seemed to be very much excited and anxious to close the deal at once.”
“Do you suppose that he could be representing one of the belligerent
countries in Europe and wanted the _Flyer_ for war?” asked Ned.
This was a new thought to Alan, who slapped his knee, exclaiming:
“I’ll bet that’s the whole secret. The war departments over there are
all wild over this armored aeroplane idea anyway. England probably
wants the _Flyer_ to protect her from air invasion by Germany.”
“Or France wants it to use in dropping bombs along the western battle
front in Belgium,” said Major Honeywell.
“Or maybe Germany wants it to supplement their rumored fleet of
Zeppelins for the long-planned raid on England,” added Ned.
All three could not help but laugh heartily at the diversity of
opinions thus expressed. In the midst of their merriment the telephone
on Major Honeywell’s desk began suddenly to ring insistently.
“Hello,” called the Major, with the receiver to his ear. “Yes, yes.
This is the offices of the Universal Transportation Company, Major
Baldwin Honeywell, the treasurer, talking.... What?... Speak a little
louder and more slowly, please; I can hardly understand you.... Yes....
Mr. Phillips approached me about the sale of the _Ocean Flyer_ this
morning.... Oh! you are speaking for him. I see.... No, we have
decided not to sell the airship.... No, _not_ to sell it.... No, no,
the price was quite gratifying, but the _Flyer_ is not for sale....
Positively, sir!... You are wishing to give twenty-five thousand
dollars more?... Hold the wire.”
Major Honeywell rolled a wild eye at the intently listening boys. Both
shook their heads emphatically. The Major turned again to the telephone.
“I’m sorry, sir, but our decision is not to sell the _Flyer_ at any
price whatever.... No, I am sure that we shall not change our minds
about it.... All right. To whom have I been speaking, please?”
As the Major asked this final question, Ned sprang to an adjacent
extension of the telephone. He caught the distant guttural rumble of a
heavy voice:
“My name, it is of no matter since you have not the airship for sale.
Good-bye.”
The words were spoken with a marked German accent that in some way
seemed peculiarly familiar to Ned. He had heard that voice before, and
recently too. But where?