Within a quarter of an hour both the men caught sight at the same moment of the red glow of the light, which grew in brilliance as they approached it, and then diminished as the lamp revolved. Steering now to the east, in ten minutes they were sailing over the town of Palmerston, the capital of the Northern Territory. The lighted streets, crossing at right angles, formed a pattern below them like the diagram for the game of noughts and crosses. They found a landing place a little to the north-east of the town, beyond the railway, and having safely come to earth, Smith left Rodier to attend to the engine and hastened towards the nearest house, a sort of bungalow of wood and iron. Sounds of singing came from within.
A Chinaman opened the door to his knock. Smith asked if the master was at home.
"Massa inside allo lightee," answered the man. "Me go fetchee, chop-chop."
He soon returned, followed by a stalwart bearded Australian of about fifty years, smoking a big pipe.
"Well, mate," he said, eyeing Smith curiously by the light of the door lamp; "what can I do for you?"
"I must apologize for troubling you on Sunday night," began Smith.
"No trouble, I assure you. Come in." He led Smith into a little room near the door. "We've a few friends in the parlour," he added, "and I guess you can tell me here what you want."
"Well, to put it shortly, I should be very much obliged to you if you'd direct me to Mr. Mackinnon. He's got some petrol waiting for me, at least I hope he has, and I'm in great need of it."
"Well, that's real unlucky now. He went to Pine Creek down the line only yesterday, and won't be back till to-morrow. Are you Lieutenant Smith, may I ask?"
"Yes, that's my name."