Air Wonder Stories, July 1929 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

THE ARK OF THE COVENANT ; 27 that he lowered the aerial and fixed the receiver to his ears. In a minute the cabin was filled with the blatter of the radio, “PNC! PNC! PNC!? He waited a little and repeated the call, then suddenly switched to the open receiver of the radio- phone. A strange voice issued from the box and filled the cabin. “There’s something the matter with the Parnassic’s wireless,” said the voice, “gone phut, or something. Who’s calling her, anyhow ?”’ “This is the seaplane Merlin,” said Milliken. “Who are your” “British steamship, Maramba,’ the voice replied. “Where are you?” Milliken looked at me. “Two hundred kilometres or so due east of Cape Cod,” I told him, and he repeated it into the trans- mutter, “Looking for the Parnassic?” “That’s the notion,” said Milliken, “She should be somewhere round 43° north, 60° west. I say, there’s something the matter in this blinking ocean this morning—ghostses or some- thing—gives you the creeps. Well, cheerio, Merlin!” said the English voice. “Is it cold up there?” “Not a bit of it, thanks,” said Milliken. “Cheerio, Marvamba!" “Cheerio and good luck!” Milliken looked to me for instructions. “Wait fifteen minutes, Milliken, and try her again,’ I told him. He pulled up the aerial, and almost without thinking what I was doing I opened the throttle. The hand of the speed-dial went steadily round to four-fifty, as the Merlin lunged forward with a keener note. “What’s that glow that comes and goes on the horizon away to the left?” asked Danny, when fif- teen minutes had elapsed. “Tt must be the light on Cape Sable,” I said, with a look at the height register, which showed we were three thousand odd metres above sea level. “About a hundred and sixty kilometres away.” Milliken was letting down the aerial again, and soon the radio once more was spluttering its ‘“PNC! PNC! PNC!” But save for the steady song of the engine, no sound greeted our ears. Milliken tried again, and again, without result. An uneasy feeling took hold of me, “Haul in the aerial, Milliken,” I said. “I’m going to let her go full out. Clamp the telephone re- ceiver to your ears, Dan.” z Milliken spun the drum round, and turned to help Dan with the cap-receivers, which would cut out all noise except what could come through the phone, and then he did the same for me. When we were all fixed, I opened the cut-out, and gave the Merlin full throttle. The dial hand jerked round to five hundred kilometres and stayed put, for that was the limit of its register—but I knew we were going well over the five hundred. It was now fifteen minutes to five, and a cold grey had crept into the horizon ahead. Steadily, steadily, as we sped into the dawn, the light paled into silver and primrose, the floor of the sea passed from dull blue into a living purple flecked with green and silver. Minutes passed, the hand of the clock on the control-board dragging heavily, and again I felt that curious alertness of perception which I had experienced on and after the flight of the day before. It was more than alertness. It was an anticipation of things that were about to happen. And now, with the coming of the light, visibility decreased as a haze began to grow over the face of the sea. We dropped on a long angle to fifteen hundred metres, Here and there, the sea was dotted with steamers which, though visible to us, must have been out of sight of each other. These we could see were freighters and small liners. All three of us in the cabin of the Merlin were staring ahead, expecting to sight the great mass of the Parnassic at any moment, for the time was now well past five o’clock. As far as one could judge, we were nearing the position where the liner could be expected, but the haze below us was thickening quickly and, every minute, was lessening our range of vision. Soon it would mean casting circles in search. Suddenly Milliken touched me lightly on the shoulder and pointed. Ahead of us, four masts and three funnels pierced the mist. I throttled down and whipped into the silencer, then hovered down into a steep angle. We were over the ship in a few seconds. “There’s something the matter there, Mr. Boon,” said Milliken. ““There’s no way on her, and she’s tolling broadside on.” “My God!’ cried Dan Lamont. abandoned !” “She has been A Close Shave dete was something terrifying in the helpless- ness of the great liner. Broadside to the rollers, she lay sluggishly, swaying and veering amongst the oily hummocks, and about her was the silence of death itself, Not a soul stirred on her decks, and the thin wisp of steam that curled from one of her smoke-stacks was the only thing about her that moved. I know that my hands were shaking on the joy- stick, and it was all I could do to master the sick feeling that was creeping over me. We circled round her as slowly as we could, and coming as close as we dared. “Look!” I said. “There are dead men lying on the bridge!” “God in Heaven!” Dan Lamont cried, white to the lips. “What can have happened to them?” “T don’t know,” I muttered, “but we'll find out.’ I swung the Merlin closer still to the liner. “What are you going to do, sir?” Milliken cried apprehensively. “T am going to put the Merlin aboard her, if I can. “You'll smash her, sir!” “Maybe,” I said madly, “but we’re going aboard.” “Don’t try it, sir! For God’s sake, don’t try it!” “Shut up, Milliken!” I said crossly—then realiz- ing that he wasn’t thinking of his own skin, but of his beloved Merlin, I grinned at him feebly, “It’s all right, Milliken. I won’t do anything rash. Let’s reconnoitre,” It was out of the question to try and bring the Merlin alongside the heaving freeboard of the liner. We would have had our wings smashed for a cer- tainty. Nor was there space available to land on any of the decks, cluttered as they were with ven- tilators and deck-gear. The only likely place to bring her aboard was on what appeared to be a comnlicloooks.com