For a few suspenseful minutes, they lost sight of the taxi ahead. Their driver swore, afraid of losing his double fare. Then there it was again, turning off the road towards a farmhouse and two huge barns, on the edge of a large, flat, empty field.
On top of one barn a wind stocking floated from a flagpole, and nearby stood several aeroplanes: three biplanes, a monoplane, and an unwieldy triplane.
“An aerodrome!” Alec cried. “Great Scott, don’t tell me he’s hoping to escape by air!”
In front of the farmhouse, a single-engined biplane was preparing for flight. The four-bladed wooden propeller turned idly, and a helmeted man in the cockpit was leaning out to call something to a couple of men on the ground.
Even before the first taxi had braked to a halt twenty yards from the aeroplane, Pitt jumped out. His suitcase in his left hand, he brandished a pistol in his right. Then he took careful aim, and a shot rang out.
The aviator ducked. The men on the ground threw themselves flat, while several others emerged from the house and hangars. Pitt ran towards the aeroplane.
“Holy cow!” breathed the second cab driver, swerving as he jammed on his brakes.
Lambert sprang out, automatic in hand.
“Don’t shoot, you fool!” yelled Alec, diving after him as he squeezed the trigger.
The gun failed to fire. Alec hit Lambert behind the knees and he measured his length on the grass, losing both his weapon and his spectacles.
Daisy perched on the running board for a better view. She saw Pitt reach the aeroplane, drop his suitcase, and clamber into the open cabin in the rear of the fuselage. He leant forward to hold his revolver to the pilot’s head. The pilot cried out to the ground crew. One of them chucked the suitcase up after Pitt.
The engine roared, the propeller speeded to a blur. The men on the ground crept to the wheels, pulled away the chocks, and scampered clear. The aeroplane started to move, then gathered speed across the tarmac.
After it lumbered the first taxi driver, bellowing, “Hey, what about my fare? What about my fare?”
19
His spectacles restored to him, Lambert was almost weeping with frustration. “Gee whiz, why did you stop me? I could have arrested him. That was U.S. Government property he was shooting at.”
“Government property?” Daisy queried, shading her eyes to gaze after the ascending biplane.
“You can’t go shooting towards a plane!” Alec expostulated. “Hit the fuel tank or lines and the whole thing goes up in flames. Anyway, your pistol misfired.”
“I dropped it eighteen storeys,” Daisy reminded him. “Government property?”
“Didn’t you see the Post Office insignia on the side?” Lambert shook his head angrily. “They shouldn’t have given in to him so easily.”
“He had a gun,” said Alec, “one which didn’t misfire. If he had started shooting again, your precious government property would more than likely have become an inferno, and the government employees incinerated with it.”
“Air piracy, by George!” said an exhilarated and very English voice behind them. “Bally bad show! I say, whatwas all that about, if you don’t mind my asking?”
They turned to see a tall, thin man in flier’s leathers, a helmet dangling from his hand and a pipe from his mouth. He had a splendid handlebar moustache, a Roman nose, and very blue eyes, which widened as he saw Alec’s face.
Alec’s mouth dropped open. “Great Scott, it’s Dipper!” he exclaimed, just as the other said, “ByGeorge, if it isn’t the Arrow! What ho, old chap!” They wrung each other’s hands and slapped each other on the back.
Lambert interrupted this touching reunion. “Say, Mr. Dipper, do you have an airplane? I guess you’re not an American citizen, but the U.S. Government would sure make it worth your while to chase that air pirate.”
The blue eyes lit up. “By George, there’s an idea. Not that I need the bally rhino, but what a lark! As it happens, I’ve got a four-seater just about ready to take off. Let’s go!”
The next quarter of an hour was utter confusion. Alec made hasty introductions—Dipper turned out to be Sir Roland Amboyne, a friend from RFC days. But Alec considered the whole notion of chasing the fugitive through the skies crazy.
He was overborne by Sir Roland’s enthusiasm, aided by Lambert’s insistence that the kidnapper of a federal employee must not be allowed to disappear into the blue vastness.
“While you follow him, I’ll alert the federal authorities,” he said importantly.
“Oh no,” said Alec, “you’re coming along. You’re the only one of us with the official standing to arrest the miscreant, if by some miracle we catch him. Daisy’s perfectly capable of notifying whoever needs to be notified.”
“Me!” Indignation overruled both grammar and pleasureat this unwonted compliment. “I’m going with you. Darling, you said you’d take me up in an aeroplane one day.”
