The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 73: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LOOSING THE TEMPEST. yacht with his greedy eyes that were seeing more in fourteen hours than he had seen in twenty-four years. ‘Ts it another war-ship? ” he asked. “No, it is a pleasure-yacht. It be- longs to a rich American named Mor- ley. We left it at Havre when we came away. I wonder what brought him here? ”’ Inspector Ravary was looking to- ward the yacht with a glowering ex- pression. “He was in Paris,” he grunted. “I know what brought him here. All Paris knows how we traced the air- ship. Those women on the bridge are Sanderman’s mother and sister. Mor- ley has offered his yacht to search for the mur—the young man.” “Well, it was natural they should wish to search,” I answered. “ But how did you trace the air-ship? ”’ “Nothing in the world more sim- ple,” answered the inspector, with more graciousness than I expected. ‘““As soon as the body of Nicasse was found, we looked for Sanderman, knowing there was bad blood between him and the members of the Interna- tional Air Navigation Company. We did not find him at his hotel. We then looked for him at his hangar, and found that he had taken flight in his model. “We thereupon made the wires burn in every direction. We received many replies, but the first one that gave us any encouragement was from Calais. That city reported an air-ship showing no lights passing over to the Channel. We wired Dover then, and Dover re- ported an air-ship high above the city, turning north. We kept on, till we learned that an air-ship going fast had passed out over the North Sea. “Then came a lull during that storm. and we considered it very probable— almost certain, in fact—that the air- ship had come to grief, and if we found the man at all we’d find him dead. “But no. The fellow was preserved for justice. We heard from Christi- ania that an air-ship, flying low, had 59 been seen evidently disabled and be- yond control, had been swept in from the North Sea, and had been carried out again. Next we heard from the British station on the Shetlands that an air-ship had passed far to the north. Then we started. Of course, all the in- formation we had received was public property, and others have followed the same clues. Lucky I got here first.” I was not sure just how lucky this was going to prove, and made no reply. We were in the launch of the Vigilante, and the launch from the Elvira was behind us. There was a puzzled look on the countenance of Delatouche. “Do you expect complications?” I asked. “No, not precisely that. M. Morley and I are friends. I wish he had not brought the women. That’s all.” He gave a comprehensive and at the same time an apprehensive glance to- ward Ravary. I knew what was in his mind. He feared a scene. So did I. We landed first, and the Vigilante’s launch drew out of the way to afford the other the best landing-place. The first person to step ashore was Gordon Morley himself. Morley was one of the finest examples of the American gentleman sportsman. He was about fifty-five years of age, and his splendid yacht and the flag it flew was known in almost every harbor of the world. He was a short, well-knit man, and looked well in his yachting rig. He held out his hand at once to Dela- touche. “T learned that you had come this way,’ he said. ‘‘ Mrs. Sanderman and Miss Sanderman were so anxious—so eager—to know that the boy was safe that I offered to bring them. How are you, Dagwell, and you, Ordway? Quite a surprise to find you here. Sup- pose you came on the Vigilante, of course. Permit me to introduce you all to Mrs. Sanderman and Miss San- derman.” When we had clutched ourselves and held ourselves together long enough to acknowledge the introductions decent- CoOMmicbook CO