Round the World in Seven Days | Page 8

escaped their attention. When their task was finished they were as hot and dirty as engine-drivers. They washed at a sink, filled two stone jars with water and placed them in the cage, adjusted the wind screens, and then sat down to rest and talk over things before starting on their night journey. Smith pencilled some calculations on a piece of paper, referring more than once to the globe. Then taking a clean piece, he drew up a schedule which had some resemblance to a railway timetable.
"There! How does that strike you, Roddy?" he said, when he had finished it.
"It strikes me hot," said the Frenchman. "What I mean, it will be hot work. But that is what I like."
"So do I, so long as I can keep cool. At any rate we can start to the second. Are you ready?"
The sky was brilliant with stars when, just after midnight, they took their places in the aeroplane. Twenty-five minutes' easy run, east-north-east, brought them within sight of the dull red glare northward that betrayed London. Smith had so often made this journey that, even if the stars had been invisible, he could almost have directed his course by the lights of the villages and towns over which he passed. He knew them as well as a sailor knows the lights of the coast.
Just before half-past twelve, in a steep slope on his right, looming up black against the sky, he recognized Box Hill. Passing this at a moderate pace, which allowed them to take a good look-out, they saw in a minute or two a small red flame flickering in the midst of a dark expanse. Every second it grew larger as they approached; Smith did not doubt it was the bonfire which he had asked his friend Barracombe to kindle. Dropping to the ground within a few feet of the fire, which turned out to be of considerable dimensions, he found a motor-car standing near it, and Barracombe walking up and down.
"Well, old man," said Barracombe, as Smith alighted; "they call me a hustler, but you've hustled me this time. What in the world are you after?"
"Have you got the stuff?" returned Smith with the curtness of an old friend.
"Yes; chocolate, bovril, the whole boiling; but--"
"And the maps?"
"And the maps. A nice job I had to get them. All the shops were shut, of course. I stole 'em."
"Played the burglar?"
"No. I went to the Royal Societies' Club, and pinched them out of the library. Posted a cheque to pay for 'em, but there was nobody about and I couldn't stop for red tape."
"Well, you're a big enough man to do such things with impunity. That's why I 'phoned you: knew you'd do it somehow."
Although Barracombe was a potentate in the city, who controlled immense organizations, and held the threads of multifarious interests, he was very human at bottom, and Smith liked him all the better for the glow of self-satisfaction that shone upon his face at this tribute to his omnipotence.
"But now, what's it all mean, you beggar? Are you off to reorganize the Turkish navy or something?"
"I'm off to the Solomon Islands."
"What!"
"That's it: going to have a shot at helping the poor old governor."
"But, my dear fellow, he'll either be relieved or done for long before you can get there. The paper said they were practically unarmed."
"Exactly. I'm going to pick up some rifles and ammunition at one of the Australian ports, and so help 'em to keep their end up until the gunboat reaches them. I'll probably get there a day before the boat."
"But do you know how far it is? It's thirteen thousand miles or more."
"I know. I'm going to have a try. I've got seven days to get there and back; then my leave's up. I can do it if the engine holds out, and if you'll help."
"My dear chap, you know I'll do anything I can, but--well, upon my soul, you take my breath away. I'm not often surprised, but--what are you grinning at?"
"At having knocked the wind out of your sails for once, old man. Seriously, we've thought it out, Roddy and I. We've more than once done a speed of a hundred and ninety. Of course it's a different matter to keep it up for days on end, but how long have you had your motor-car?"
"Three months. Why?"
"And how often has it broken down?"
"Not at all; but I haven't done thirteen thousand miles at a go."
"You've done more, with stoppages. Well, I shall have stoppages--just long enough to clean and take in petrol and oil, and that's where I want your help. I want you to arrange for eighty gallons of petrol and sixteen of oil, to be ready for me at three places besides Constantinople. Here's the list; Karachi, Penang, and