“There?” she said. “Read that.”
“That” was a closely printed column which Dick proceeded to scan with attention. It was an article describing the wonderful deposits of pitchblende, the ore from which radium is extracted, which had been discovered in the Ural region in the neighbourhood of Zlatoust. An English combine had secured the monopoly of the working for fifteen years, and already a supply of radium valued at one hundred and fifty thousand pounds had been brought home by the famous Professor Fortescue for the use of British chemists and medical men.
The discovery and acquisition of the monopoly by British interests, the article pointed out, had put England far ahead in the field of radium research, for she had now a big supply of the precious commodity at her disposal, while other nations were struggling along with the tiny quantities obtained from other and far less rich deposits. And, as was fully explained, it was not in medicine alone that the radium would be valuable; there was hardly a department of commerce, to say nothing of the arts of warfare, in which radium was not playing a considerable and constantly increasing part. So many new discoveries were being made by the band of experts, of whom Professor Fortescue was the acknowledged head, that it was beginning to be realised that radium in the future was likely to be as valuable as coal and oil had been in the past.
But—and here was the fact of most significance to Dick—the radium was at Chalkley, Professor Fortescue’s home in the wilds of the Durham moors. He had taken it there on his return from Zlatoust for use in some critical experiments he had in hand before it was sent on to the young but growing school of Medicine at Durham University.
They had at least approached the heart of the mystery! It was evident that some band of international desperadoes had designs on the precious radium. In spite of their enormous value, the two tubes containing the salt could easily be carried in a man’s pocket, and in Germany there would be a ready market for it among the great chemical firms, whose business consciences were sufficiently elastic to permit them to pay a big price and ask no awkward questions.
Dick was reading the report carefully, when he suddenly gave a startled exclamation.
“Why, look here,” he said, “the radium is only to be kept at Chalkley till the twenty-ninth. That explains the twenty-nine in the advertisement. And to-day is the twenty-seventh. If anything is to happen it must be at once or they will be too late. I must ring up Regnier.” Regnier was with them in half an hour. He was filled with excitement when he learned the facts which Yvette had discovered.
“That,” he said, “puts an entirely new complexion on the affair. There can now be very little doubt about the matter. Clearly ‘lead’ means radium, and I think we can interpret ‘bull market’ as an intimation that it is a big prize. They are evidently well informed, whoever they are. We must tell London at once.”
But before anything could be done a messenger for Regnier arrived post haste from the bureau of the Secret Service in the Quai d’Orsay with strange news.
A big aeroplane, flying at a tremendous speed, had crossed the Franco-Spanish frontier near Bagnères de Luchon having apparently come right across the Pyrenees. It had ignored all the signals of the French frontier guards, whose aeroplanes had, in consequence, gone up in pursuit. Only one of them was fast enough to approach the stranger, and a fight had followed in which the French machine was crippled and forced to descend. Thereupon the strange machine had proceeded, flying in the direction of Bordeaux. Telephone messages had brought warning of its approach, and several attempts had been made to stop it, but without success. It had been reported, chased by French aeroplanes over Bordeaux, Nantes, and St. Malo, and at the latter place, just as dusk was falling, it had left the French coast and laid a course apparently for England. No further news of it had been received.