condone such things. Here is the situation: We are of the opinion that this man you call the Saver of Souls had nothing to do with the destruction of the Memphis. We——”
“Nuts!” Bill exploded, “to use a vulgar expression. I have engaged that man three times in the air and I know his tactics. You are treating me as though I was a child. Don't you suppose I know——”
“That particular trick by which you identified the man to Malbury is an old one, Barnes,” Aird interrupted. “I first used it twenty-two years ago when I was a lieutenant in the Royal Flying Corps. I learned it from a famous German ace. So, you see, you have nothing to establish your identity of the man. Besides, you don't know who he is.”
“That's what we've got to find out,” Bill said. “That man has been in my hair long enough. I'll find him myself it you won't help me.”
“No,” Aird said firmly, “you won't. And I'll tell you why. England and the United States are not the only nations that are flying the Atlantic with passengers and mail and cargo. Remember that France, Germany and Italy are doing the same thing. England and the United States have the jump on them with larger and better planes. We have also made more thorough surveys. Doesn't it occur to you that, possibly, one of several companies in each of those countries might be anxious to present Transatlantic from becoming the premier carrier across the Atlantic? Suppose we go nosing into this thing and find that, with the situation as delicate as it is today in Europe, one of them is guilty? What will it mean if it is released to the public? Only one thing.
Bill Barnes stood in the center of the room, his legs widespread as though to absorb the shock of a physical blow. His face was a mask of hopeless fury. He could understand the wisdom in Aird's presentation of the problem, but he refused to accept it. He told himself that he would find the men guilty of the crime or die himself in the attempt. Then he told Aird.
“That is all right,” he said as calmly as he could. “I understand your point of view. But what about Transatlantic Transport? It means the death of the company. They will never be able to survive the unexplained loss of their first passenger-carrying plane. Even though I didn't have a large interest in the company I could not stand by and see them ruined by such tactics.”
“They can reorganize under another name and the public won't know the difference,” Aird said. “Their loss is probably covered by insurance.”
“That isn't the point!” Bill roared. “You fellows can take it lying down. But I won't! They sent a man here to this room last night to murder me because I know what I know. Do you think I'm going to keep on running away from this man who calk himself the Saver of Souls? He wrote me a note one time telling me there was not room in the world for both of us. I laughed at it. But now I know he was right. There isn't room for a murdering rat, who kills defenseless people with the connivance of the British Air Ministry, and me!”
“Those are pretty strong words, Barnes,” Aird said softly. “And I wouldn't advise you to go about repeating them. We're not interested in your personal feud with the Saver of Souls. We're only interested in the safety of England and we can't afford to become embroiled with an enemy over this thing. We will, of course, put our secret agents to work and when we reach a conclusion we will take suitable steps.”
“You can't tie my hands!” Bill said. “I'll go ahead until I find him. And I'll tell the world what happened!”
“Not while you're in England,” Aird said. “Which will not be long. Hereburn, Malbury and I decided that you must get out of the country. We have enough troubles now without having you around with a tinder to start more. I have been asked to respectfully request you to leave the country at once.”
For once in his life Bill Barnes was speechless. He could scarcely believe what he had heard. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind as he stood there staring at Aird. A thousand thoughts that had to do with the existing friendship between England and the United States and his small part in it.
It is impossible to tell what he might have said at that moment if Sandy Sanders had not opened the door of his bedroom and stuck his tousled head out into the little hallway.
“Hey,” he said, “what's all the shoutin' for? Can't you let a young fellah get a little sleep?”
He hitched up the bottoms of his pajamas with one hand while he rubbed his eyes with the other. Then he strolled into Bill's room in his bare feet.
Some of the rage left Bill's face at the sound of his voice, and the man who called himself Sir James Aird laughed outright.
“This,” he said to Bill, “would be that young demon of the air. Sandy Sanders.”
“That's right,” Bill said grudgingly. “Sandy, this is Sir James Aird of the British Air Ministry.”
“Is that so?” Sandy said as he shook hands with Aird. “I've heard a great deal about you, of course. It's quite an honor to——” Suddenly, he stopped talking and grabbed at his pajamas with his free hand. His face lighted. “Say!” he said. “What about your autograph?”
“He collects 'em,” Bill explained while Sandy darted into his room and returned with the little leather-covered autograph book.
“Right there, please,” Sandy said, opening the book and handing Aird a pen.
Aird wrote his name and handed the book back to Sandy.
Sandy shook his head. “You didn't finish it,” he said. “Put those V. C.s and D. S. C.s and things like that on, too.”
“Righto,” Aird laughed.
“Get some clothes on kid,” Bill snapped at him.
“Righto!” Sandy said, echoing Aird. He went back into his room. Bill waited until he had closed his door.
“All right,” he said to Aird, and there was utter hopelessness and defeat in his voice. “I'll get out of England. I'll get out and I'll never come back. But you can't muzzle me when I get back to the States. I'll talk and I'll have young Sanders to verify what I say.”
“That,” Aird said smoothly, “is entirely at your own discretion. We can't stop you from talking then. But I think, when you have had time to cool off a bit and give the matter a little thought, you'll decide to keep quiet. You'll do it to prevent people from calling you a liar.”
Bill didn't answer him. He knew he was licked and he was afraid to speak because of what he might say. He stood in stony silence while Aird bade him good-by and closed the door behind him.
Then he gave vent to his feelings. He was still cursing when the door to Sandy's room flew open and Sandy came tearing in.
“Bill!” he screamed. “Where is he?'“ Sandy was waving his autograph book.
“He's gone, damn him,” Bill said vehemently.
“Listen, Bill!” Sandy said, barely able to talk because of his excitement. “That guy wasn't Sir James Aird. He's the rat who calls himself the Saver of Souls!”
Bill gazed at him for a moment as though he thought he was crazy. Then he got hold of himself because something in Sandy's expression impressed him that he knew what he was talking about.
“Quick, kid,” he said. “How do you figure it?”
“Remember I was studying handwriting and ventriloquism on our last trip to South America when you first tangled with him? He wrote you a note at that time and I studied it quite thoroughly and remembered it. When I saw Aird's signature I was sure I had seen that writing before. Finally, it came to me. And remember his voice the day he broke in on the radiophone? They talked like the same man!”
For a split fraction of a second Bill stared at him. Then he leaped for the telephone. He got the bell captain on the phone and asked him to find out from the starter in front of the hotel where the man who had just left his room had gone.
Then he started on a telephone quest for Lord Hereburn. Here Bill's name worked magic. The telephone operator had located and had Lord Hereburn on the wire within a few minutes.
“I'm sorry to be short, sir,” Bill said to him. “But I've got to hurry! Did the Duke of Malbury find you last night and talk to you?”
“Ah—ah—no,” Lord Hereburn said.
“I haven't heard from him in——”
“Right!” Bill snapped. “You didn't see him! Listen carefully. The Duke of Malbury dropped me at the Cecil Hotel last night at ten o'clock. He was going to try to locate you. He was being driven by a chauffeur in a Sunbeam landaulet. You'd better start tracing what happened to him after that. He was to get in touch with me as soon as he had talked to you. I believe he has met with some kind of foul play. I can't explain further but I'll get in touch with you as soon as I can.”
