They returned to the engine room and the acetylene gas was turned on and with only a low, shaded light over the engine gauges, Roy’s desk and the binnacle, the dynamo was shut down. Ventilators were opened and all ports and doors closed. Everything shipshape, Bob was persuaded to turn in. This he did in stateroom number two. Roy kept at the desk until the end of the first sea leg was reached, took the readings, gave the new course and then entered the new time figures—“forty-seven minutes and thirty-six seconds after nine o’clock.” Then he settled himself for his first doze while the aeroplane reeled off its next leg, 199.6 miles.
“It’s ten o’clock,” said Ned to Alan, “and your bed’s ready. Tumble in.”
But Alan, although he surrendered the wheel, only moved to the lookout and peered into the night in silence. The sea was so far below as to be out of view. The sky was clear with stars showing. With nothing outside to distract the eye the rush of the Flyer’s own body through the air made it seem as if a spectral tornado were trying to hold the airship back. And the roar of it seemed to increase when the last glow of day blotted out the sea.
“I’ve been thinkin’,” Alan said at last, “that we made a mistake. We’re goin’ to have trouble in London. We’ll be able to deliver the matrices but it’s going to be another story to take on our passengers and get away again. The police are always too curious.”
“Don’t forget that the Herald’s back of us,” answered Ned, his eyes on the compass, for there was now no need to keep a lookout ahead. “I’m countin’ on their men to arrange that; to get a permit for us.”
“And if they don’t?” went on Alan skeptically.
Ned shrugged his shoulders.
“And, worst of all,” went on Alan. “As I understand it, Hyde Park is pretty exclusive with its Serpentine and Rotten Row. How are we going to be sure our gasoline and ether and lubricator oil supply wagon or dray will be allowed in the park?”
“That’s a thing I’ve been leavin’ to the Herald agents,” answered Ned slowly, “although I rather wish we hadn’t.”
“That’s it,” exclaimed Alan. “Maybe it ain’t too late to take charge ourselves.”