Читать книгу The Airship Boys in the Great War; or, The Rescue of Bob Russell - De Lysle F. Cass - Страница 5

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“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?