<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">IN THE OFFICES OF THE NEW YORK HERALD</span></h2>
<p>The managing editor of the New York <cite>Herald</cite>
received the engraved visiting cards of Alan
Hope and Ned Napier with mingled pleasure
and surprise.</p>
<p>“The Airship Boys! Send them right in,”
said he to the young woman who had announced
them from the outer office. Then the great
newspaper man turned with an apologetic smile
to the gentleman who still stood, hat in hand,
beside his desk, as he had been about to leave
just before the boys’ cards were brought in.</p>
<p>“Please excuse me, Mr. Geisthorn, for seeming
to hurry you away in this manner, but I
believe our little interview was about terminated
anyway.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is so,” replied the other, speaking
with a strong German accent. “It is not for me
yet to take too much of your precious time. As
I have before said, I am myself a journalist, and
know the value of even a minute’s time.”</p>
<p>The editor of the <cite>Herald</cite> arose to shake hands<span class="pagenum">[18]</span>
in parting with his visitor. At the door the
latter turned, hesitated momentarily, and then
said:</p>
<p>“My excuses again, mein herr, but what was
it that you called these gentlemen? The Aeroplane
Children? What is that?”</p>
<p>The managing editor permitted a smile to edge
his lips as he turned and pointed to a framed
front page of the <cite>Herald</cite>, dated over two years
ago. It was double headlined in heavy, black-letter
type, and profusely illustrated with photographs
of the coronation of King George V of
England.</p>
<p>“I called them the Airship Boys,” said the
editor. “That is a title they have won as a
result of their astounding feats and innovations
in aerial navigation. The page of the <cite>Herald</cite>
which you see there on the wall represents a bit
of newspaper history as well as the beginning
of a new epoch in aeronautics. Those two young
men, Ned Napier and Alan Hope, two years
ago last June accomplished a flight from London
to New York in twelve hours, bringing back
with them photographs of the coronation ceremonies,
and enabling us to publish them nearly
a week earlier than any other American newspaper.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[19]</span></p>
<p>“London to New York in <em>twelve hours</em>!
Impossible!” ejaculated the visitor, gaping at
the picture.</p>
<p>“I don’t wonder at your surprise,” responded
the managing editor, “but that’s exactly what
they accomplished in their <em>Ocean Flyer</em>—the
largest and highest-powered aircraft ever devised—a
vessel capable of carrying six or seven passengers
at a consistent velocity of two hundred
miles and more per hour; an airship which can
be easily operated at a height of eight or ten
miles, where the driver of any other machine
would either freeze to death or die from lack
of oxygen.”</p>
<p>“You are not what you call making funnies
of me?” queried the astounded visitor, blinking
at the editor fixedly through narrowed eyelids,
as if to read his inmost thought. “All
this that you tell me is true then?”</p>
<p>“Sir!” said the managing editor with a
touch of temper.</p>
<p>“Pardon, mein herr; I do not mean to
offend, but—”</p>
<p>“Mr. Napier and Mr. Hope,” announced the
private secretary from the doorway.</p>
<p>Ned and Alan appeared, hat in hand, and were
cordially greeted by their newspaper friend.<span class="pagenum">[20]</span>
As they entered the room, the earlier visitor
brushed past them on his way out, staring almost
rudely in each boy’s face as he passed.</p>
<p>“Well,” said Alan, when the door clicked
shut behind the man, “I hope whoever that is
will know us the next time he sees us.”</p>
<p>The managing editor laughed as he waved his
guests to seats and offered them cigars, which
both boys refused with thanks.</p>
<p>“You’ll have to excuse Mr. Geisthorn, boys,”
said he. “He is a newly appointed local correspondent
for the <cite>Tageblatt</cite>, and I nearly
floored him with an account of that London-to-New
York flight of yours.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he was a German then,” said Ned,
exchanging a significant glance with Alan.</p>
<p>“Why, yes, and seems to be a very nice
fellow from what little I know of him. He
arrived in this country only shortly after the
war broke out and seems quiet and inoffensive,—never
gets excited over the war news nor
yells Bloody Murder when the ‘Vaterland’ is
mentioned. He calls here every now and then
to give me interesting bits of news which filter
through to him but are cut out of the <cite>Herald’s</cite>
regular Berlin cable service by the censor. Ever
since our Mr. Russell got into difficulties over<span class="pagenum">[21]</span>
there we haven’t been able to get anything like
the exclusive copy we used to.”</p>
<p>“That’s just what we’re here to see you
about, sir,” Ned remarked. “We read in this
morning’s papers how Bob has been imprisoned
as a spy and is liable to be shot at any minute.
President Wilson naturally doesn’t want to
embroil the United States unnecessarily in the
war, and Bob may be backed up against a wall
with the firing squad aiming at him before this
‘watchful waiting’ policy evolves any means of
interceding in his behalf. Something must be
done to help him right away.”</p>
<p>The lines of care around the great journalist’s
mouth deepened with melancholy as he nodded.</p>
<p>“The <cite>Herald</cite> has of course registered a formal
protest. We can do no more,” he said. “The
life of a single individual doesn’t seem such a
very big thing to war-crazed men who are blinded
with cannon smoke and have been literally wading
through human blood for three months past.
We can get no satisfactory answer of any sort
from the German field headquarters. The most
that they will promise is that the affair will be
investigated and rigid justice meted out.”</p>
<p>“But, hang it all—” broke in Alan, only
to be silenced by the calmer, more practical<span class="pagenum">[22]</span>
Ned. Pulling his chair closer to the editor’s
desk and lowering his voice, he explained:</p>
<p>“Alan and I feel that for Bob’s sake we
can’t afford to take chances on any such vague
promises as have been given you. We propose
to rescue him ourselves and without a moment’s
unnecessary delay.”</p>
<p>“But how can—”</p>
<p>“Sh! In this case we must be careful that
we aren’t overheard. There might be some
German sympathizer about who would send word
of our plans, or, on the other hand, even the
federal government agents would interfere if
they got wind of our scheme.”</p>
<p>“You are right,” answered the managing
editor.</p>
<p>He pressed the electric button on the side of
his desk, summoning the young lady secretary
from the outer office.</p>
<p>“Miss Bloomfield, is there anyone out there
waiting to see me?”</p>
<p>“No, sir.”</p>
<p>“Good! Kindly contrive to knock the big
dictionary off your desk the moment anyone
comes in, so that I may be warned of any visitors
without their knowing it. That is all.” She
closed the door.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[23]</span></p>
<p>“Now, boys.”</p>
<p>Ned resumed his explanation.</p>
<p>“The <em>Ocean Flyer</em> is still there in the hangar
of the Newark plant of the Universal Transportation
Company. Neither Mr. Osborne, president
of the company, nor Major Honeywell, the
secretary, have any financial interest in the
airship. It belongs absolutely to Alan and me,
and we intend to use it immediately for the trip
to Muhlbruck, where we understand that Bob
is awaiting trial.</p>
<p>“The <em>Flyer</em> is in the best of condition and
almost ready for use at any moment. All that
we need to do is to equip her with a few
mechanical supplies, food, firearms, and so on.
We can make the trip in less than twenty hours.
To-day is Tuesday. If all goes well, we can
have Bob back here ready to go out on a city
assignment for you by next Monday.”</p>
<p>Wrinkles of deep thought lined the great newspaper
man’s forehead as he listened attentively
to the brief outline of the Airship Boys’ plan.
He would have met such statements from any
other boys not yet twenty-one years old with
absolute ridicule, but he knew that, despite their
youth, Ned Napier and Alan Hope were fully
capable of carrying out their scheme.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[24]</span></p>
<p>“One thing more, though, boys,” said he,
after a short period of silence. “Just how are
you going to get Mr. Russell out of prison after
you arrive in Muhlbruck? You won’t be able to
overpower a whole German garrison, you know.
Then, too, the chances are that when they see an
airship of such unusual design as yours floating
down upon them, they’ll recognize it as being of
foreign construction and fire upon you.”</p>
<p>Alan answered him:</p>
<p>“We haven’t had time to plan that far ahead
yet; we’re going to let that part of it take care
of itself. We’ll have to be governed by circumstances
after we get there anyway.”</p>
<p>“And in regard to their firing upon us as a
hostile airship,” supplemented Ned. “I think
the chances are that they may take us for one
of their new types of dirigibles that Count Zeppelin
is said to have almost ready for a big
aerial raid upon England.”</p>
<p>The editor smiled a bit sadly at their shining
eyes and enthusiastic faces. Then he shook his
head.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe that even a German private
could mistake the unusual build of the <em>Ocean
Flyer</em> for the bologna-shaped gas bag of a Zeppelin,”
said he. “Still, you are very brave boys,<span class="pagenum">[25]</span>
and I want to compliment you sincerely upon
your pluck in attempting this thing. All luck
go with you. Now, what is it that you came here
to have me do in your behalf?”</p>
<p>“Just this,” said Ned. “We would like to
have you furnish us with full credentials as war-correspondents
for the New York <cite>Herald</cite> to protect
us from petty annoyances in case we should,
for some unforeseen reason, have to abandon
the <em>Flyer</em> and make our escape on foot. We
promise you that the passports will not be used
in any way that might implicate the paper
in a breach of neutrality courtesies, and, anyway,
we’re not going to do any actual fighting if we
can help it.</p>
<p>“Also, we would like to have a personal letter
to General Haberkampf, the German commandant
at Muhlbruck, explaining that Bob Russell is
an authorized and fully-accredited representative
of the <cite>Herald</cite>, and the last person in the world
to be concerned in secret service for the Allies.”</p>
<p>“Certainly you shall have all that you ask
for,” cried the managing editor. “And here’s
hoping that you make that bigoted old General
Haberkampf come to his knees with—”</p>
<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
<p>Further utterance froze on the editor’s lips<span class="pagenum">[26]</span>
and both boys sprang startled to their feet. Miss
Bloomfield’s big dictionary had fallen to the floor
with a bang in the outer office!</p>
<p>The editor strode to the private door just as
it was pushed open by none other than Mr.
Geisthorn, the new correspondent for the <cite>Berliner
Tageblatt</cite>. Miss Bloomfield’s face showed
angrily over his shoulder.</p>
<p>For a breathless moment all four of those in
the private office stared quizzically at each other.
The German was the first to recover his
composure.</p>
<p>“Excuse, gentlemen,” said he, bowing low to
each in turn, “I did not mean to interrupt, but
did I not leave my gloves there on the desk?”</p>
<p>“I think not, sir,” replied the editor gravely.
“Come in. You do not interrupt us. My conference
with these gentlemen is already concluded.
Mr. Napier, Mr. Hope, good day. I
shall send you by boy this afternoon the copies
from our files about which you inquired. Good-bye!”</p>
<p>As the Airship Boys passed out of the office,
Mr. Geisthorn again bent upon them his peculiarly
disconcerting stare. They remarked that
his pale blue eyes were as hard and cold as
steel.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[27]</span></p>
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