[CHAPTER IV--THE DEPARTURE]
"Will next Monday suit you fellows to take on officially?" enquired Fosterdyke, as the chums prepared to depart. "I want a trial flight on that day, and if it proves satisfactory, I'll make a formal entry at once. M. Chauvasse stipulates that all entries must reach him in writing by noon on the thirtieth. That leaves us with only eight days clear."
"Monday it is, sir," replied Kenyon, promptly. "We'll have everything fixed up as far as our private business is concerned before then. In fact, we could arrange to join earlier--couldn't we, Peter?"
Peter Bramsdean signified his agreement.
"Hardly necessary," observed Fosterdyke. "But if anything unforeseen transpires before then I'll wire you."
During the next few days there was much to be done in "squaring up" the motor transport work. Notices were issued stating that the principals, Messrs. Kenyon and Bramsdean, would be away for six weeks, during which time all orders could be safely entrusted to their works manager. Even that individual had no inkling of the nature of his employers' forthcoming absence. The secret, jealously guarded, had not yet leaked out.
On the other hand, the Press published a report of M. Chauvasse's offer and stated that three entries other than British had been received. The lack of enterprise on the part of British airmen was commented upon and an appeal issued to sportsmen to make an effort to prevent yet another record passing into the hands of foreigners.
On the day following this journalistic jeremiad came the report that a British airship of unique design was approaching completion at a private aerodrome near Blandford, and that the Air Ministry had given instructions for all facilities to be afforded to its crew in their attempt to circumnavigate the globe within a space of twenty days. Details, both erroneous and exaggerated, were given of the mysterious airship, together with plans that were as unlike those of the "Golden Hind" as those of a modern dreadnought would be compared with those of Drake's famous ship.
"That will rattle the Old Man," declared Kenyon, when he read the announcement.
It did. Fosterdyke sent a wire asking his two assistants to join him at once. That was on the Friday morning. At 2.30 P.M.--or in Air Force phraseology 14.30--Kenyon and Bramsdean arrived at Air Grange, to find a vast concourse of would-be spectators congregated round the gates, backing up the efforts of a knot of persistent Pressmen who cajoled, bluffed, and argued--all in vain--with the imperturbable Hayward and four hefty satellites.