Читать книгу Clipped Wings - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 7

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Peter Corbold regarded his uncle with feelings of amazement and pity. Up to the present, he had looked upon his relative as a man of means, and, although somewhat erratic in his methods, of action.

He had been under the impression that he had come out to Rioguay to get assistance from Uncle Brian. Now he found that Uncle Brian required his help. That put things on a totally different footing.

Naturally, he concluded, Uncle Brian’s difficulties were not of a pecuniary nature, since he would not appeal to a nephew financially “on the rocks” for aid. Brian Strong was not that sort. The fact remained that he was, as he had confessed, in a hole and wanted to confide in his stalwart nephew.

“What’s the trouble, Uncle?” he inquired. “Has anyone been threatening you out here? Are you in danger of your life?”

“I am,” replied Brian Strong. “But that I consider a mere detail. It’s not my life that counts, Peter; it’s my work. I’ve made a terrible blunder—unconsciously, perhaps, but—well, I may as well commence at the beginning.”

“Fire away,” exclaimed Peter encouragingly.

“My story starts with my arrival in Rioguay,” began Uncle Brian. “I’m lowering my voice purposely, Peter. Although no one in my employ speaks English—at least, I think so—there are other Rioguayans who do, and out here walls have longer ears than you and I are accustomed to. Well, I hadn’t been more than a week in the place, when I discovered that Rioguay was a much more go-ahead republic than any I had previously seen during my wanderings in South America. There certainly seemed a jolly good opening in the mining-engineering line, and on making inquiries I found that I had to obtain a licence and register myself at the Department of the Minister of the Interior. That presented little difficulty. I gave all particulars of my career in accordance with the official requirements, paid the necessary fees, and came on to Tepecicoa.

“About a week later, I had a visit from a Don José Cordova, who introduced himself as the Minister of Transport. He was a long time beating about the bush. You’ll find, Peter, that that is a characteristic of the Rioguayans. They’ll use a hundred words to say what an Englishman would in half a dozen. He was courteous—very. He wanted me to take up an appointment under the Rioguayan Government, to design and supervise the construction of aircraft for commercial purposes. He mentioned the salary and stated that the estancia of El Toro would be provided as official quarters. Then, after a while, he asked whether I would embody the stabilizing device that I had offered to the British Air Ministry in the new type of machine.”

“The one the Air Ministry turned down?” asked Peter.

“Yes, unfortunately,” was the reply. “I tried to find out how Don José Cordova came to know about it, but he was as tight as an oyster over that. However, I considered the proposition. It was a tempting one. The British Government had had the chance of taking it up. Cordova took pains to point out to me that the Rioguayan Government would claim sole rights for the space of one year only. After that, I would be at liberty to sell the patent rights to anyone who cared to take the invention up. A week later, I accepted the appointment and signed the agreement. I took possession of El Toro, engaged my staff and a swarm of mechanics and labourers, and set to work. But it was not long before I made the discovery that I was virtually a prisoner and that my work was primarily intended as a menace to the country of my birth and to which I still belong.

“For the last two and a half years, there has been a growing anti-British feeling in Rioguay. The president, Jaime Samuda, is at the head of it, although I have been unable to find out the exact cause. Samuda is ambitious. There’s no denying he’s a strong man. The fact that there hasn’t been a revolution in Rioguay since he was elected in 1917 proves that. At any rate, he’s worked up a strong feeling against the British.”

“So Mackenzie gave me to understand,” observed Peter.

“Mackenzie!” exclaimed Uncle Brian. “Is Mackenzie back? I understood he’d cleared off for good. He was lucky enough to get out of the country. He won’t have such an easy task next time. When and where did you meet him?”

Peter explained.

“He told me he was returning to Rioguay only to square up his affairs,” he added.

“I hope he’ll be able to carry out his programme,” remarked Uncle Brian grimly. “It’s easy enough to come into the country, but a jolly hard job to get away from it, if they don’t want to let you. I can tell you this, Peter; there are a hundred chances to one against your leaving Rioguay for the next twelve months.”

“Sounds interesting,” rejoined his nephew coolly. “So interesting, that I might be tempted to try, just to see what happens. On the other hand, I rather fancy I’d like to hang on and see a bit more of this anti-British republic. After all’s said and done, what’s sentiment without action? All their anti-British feeling can’t possibly do any harm to the British Empire. It’s a case of a mouse trying conclusions with a lion. Well, what is the reason for this attitude?”

“I can’t say. As you know, the Rioguayans sent a contingent to the Western Front in 1917.”

“Yes, and the Boche made a point of capturing every section of trenches they held,” added his nephew. “They couldn’t put up a fight; they simply bolted, leaving either the French or the British to straighten out the line.”

“That, I believe, is a fact,” agreed Uncle Brian. “But, having taken part in the Great War as an ally, Rioguay wanted a share in the profits, so to speak. All she got was a couple of U-boats for breaking up, four destroyers, and a small light cruiser. She wanted far more, didn’t get it, but got disgruntled instead. That may be the cause of the present agitation, but I’m not sure. What’s more important is that the agitation has developed into a serious menace.”

“How?”

“Consider the natural position of Rioguay. She has access to the sea, but a hostile fleet couldn’t operate against her without violating the territorial waters of the Republics of San Valodar and San Benito. If any attempt were made to do so, those Republics would appeal to the United States for protection under the Monroe Doctrine. You know what that means. Rioguay has three or four modern battleships, and plenty of trained seamen under Russian and German naval officers. She has an understanding with two other South American republics that in the event of hostilities, she may take over their modern fleets en bloc. At San Antonio, at the present moment, there are building twenty or thirty light commerce-destroyers, under the guise of merchantmen.”

“Saw ’em,” corroborated Peter. “Thought they looked a bit fine in the hull design for merchant hookers. Well, fire away, Uncle.”

“Undoubtedly Rioguay’s waiting her time to have a slap at England,” continued Uncle Brian. “What with the drastic reduction of the British navy and the ever-present difficulty over the Near Eastern question and, perhaps, trouble in India and Egypt, it looks as if that opportunity were imminent. Apparently, Rioguay’s plan is to harry British commerce in the South Atlantic, use her fleet to tackle any flying squadron of British light cruisers, and to occupy certain of the West Indian Islands and Guiana. If the British navy put in an appearance in considerable force, they would certainly drive the Rioguayan fleet off the sea, but could they do anything against Rioguay itself? Then there is the Rioguayan air fleet to be taken into consideration. That’s where you and I come in, Peter.”

“By Jove! I’d like to have the chance,” exclaimed Peter. “But if we are virtually prisoners, what can we do in the matter? Supposing you struck—refused point-blank to do another stroke, could the Rioguayans carry on building aircraft?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” admitted Brian Strong. “As matters stand, they have a numerous fleet of fast flying-boats, capable of operating in a radius of two thousand miles. They can rise almost vertically in a twenty miles an hour breeze and hover without the aid of helicopters—never did think much of helicopters, Peter; that’s power wrongly applied and consequently wasteful. With four engines, each of 850 horse-power, they are unsurpassed for speed by any other aircraft in existence. Their all-steel planes and armour-plated hull are practically invulnerable to shrapnel, and only a direct hit could put them out of action. And their means of offence is highly formidable: liquid-air torpedoes. They aren’t my invention, thank heaven. Now, you ask, what can we do? I’ll tell you. Do you remember that almost my first question to you on your arrival was, ‘can you fly?’ or words to that effect.”

“And you also said, ‘That’s a pity, because I wanted to bring you down’,” said Peter.

“You thought it a strange thing for me to say?”

“I thought it was a joke on your part, Uncle.”

“It wasn’t,” declared Brian Strong. “I was in sober earnest. Having perfected the Rioguayan air fleet, I now want to undo the results of my handiwork. And I think I’ve solved the problem. I have constructed a secret anti-aircraft device. The Rioguayan mechanics think it is a searchlight apparatus, and I let them go on thinking. Now, I want to put it to a practical test. Since I can’t fly and be on the ground at the same time, I had to look out for an assistant. Obviously, a Rioguayan pilot wouldn’t do. To-morrow I’ll show you the device, but what I want you to do is to learn to fly. It’s simple and quite safe with my design. You’ll pick it up in a couple of weeks. Then I want you to go up. I’ll manipulate the ground apparatus and see if I can compel you to make a forced landing. There’ll be little or no risk, as far as you are concerned. Are you game?”