CHAPTER XL.
CAPTURED BY THE GERMANS.
One fine morning a great airship was discovered by Londoners floating over the Admiralty Arch. Now it was well known that guns had been mounted on the Admiralty Arch and on the roof of the War Office and several of the other larger buildings. The purpose of these guns was, of course, to repel hostile airships, about which London had become decidedly nervous.
These guns, however, had no occasion to bang at this aërial visitor, for it was known by those on the inside that this craft was not going to drop any bombs on the big town, but simply, on order, drop itself into the Thames, which in navigable importance has been pronounced the greatest river in the world.
There was no doubt many a hysterical outburst regarding the big aircraft, but as nothing was blown up during its hovering period, there was consequently nothing to tell a policeman about.
This particular airship was conducted by our Aviator Boys—Billy Barry and Henri Trouville, or Henri Trouville and Billy Barry, as you please, according to who was at the wheel. It happened that Billy was working his regular trick as pilot on this London visit, and it was the first journey of importance that Henri and himself had been in sole command of a sea-plane—the largest of its kind.
It being a peaceful or commercial mission, there was no gunner in the bow, and no wireless operator sat in the center of the hull. Just Billy, fore, and Henri, aft. A small crew, but a crew trained to the minute.
The sea-plane, by signal, took to the river a short distance below London Bridge, in the dock region, where there was a total water area of some 600 acres.
On the occasion of the official visit to the sea-plane, as it floated near the docks, the inspecting officers, one and all, looked their astonishment upon the size of the crew, physically as well as in point of number.
They looked at the craft and they looked at the boys and they looked at each other.