The Salving of the Fusi Yama: A Post-War Story of the Sea Read online

  CHAPTER II

  To the Rescue

  It was not until the following Thursday afternoon that Villiers, ashead of the informal Mutual Advancement Syndicate, received a replyto the joint letter to "Joystick".

  As Villiers had expected, the letter gave no clue to the nature ofthe proposed undertaking, but consisted of a brief intimation thatthe advertiser would be pleased to interview Messrs. Villiers,Beverley, and Claverhouse at Richborough Chambers at 3 p.m. that day.

  "We're progressing," he observed, as he handed the letter to Bobby."Now comes the fun. Will 'Joystick' take a rise out of us, or shallwe pull his leg? Let's go round and rout out Claverhouse."

  "He'll be at his one-horse show garage," said Beverley. "Better lookhim up at lunch-time."

  "Won't give him enough warning," objected Villiers. "We'll tackle himat once and let him know how things stand. 'Raise steam and preparefor immediate action', eh, what?"

  They happened across Alec Claverhouse just outside the motor-works.He was about to take a 60-h.p. "Odouresque" out for a test run.

  "Cheerio!" he exclaimed. "Any luck?"

  "Read this," replied Villiers. "My festive friend, you'll have topipe down this afternoon. Thursday's 'Make and mend', you know."

  "Not in this rotten show," said Claverhouse. "The civilian equivalentto the Adjutant bird in these works is a regular Cossack for grantingtime off. I haven't a great grandmother to bury, nor is there afootball match on this afternoon, so honours are even on that score.What do you think of this little lad? Guess I'll knock sixty out ofher on the road."

  "In that case," remarked Beverley, "you'll get run in by the policeand sacked by the firm, so before you do find yourself in the cartwhy don't you apply for leave?"

  "I will, sure," replied Claverhouse, throwing off his leather-linedcoat and tossing it into the coup?. "Hang on half a tick, and I'lltell you the result of the poll."

  He disappeared from view, leaving Jack and Bobby to admire theworkmanship and general "get up" of the powerful "Odouresque".

  In less than five minutes he reappeared, beaming and smiling.

  "It's all O.K.," he announced. "I cut the rotten red tape and saw themanager. While I was about it--'in for a penny, in for a pound' stuntyou know--I asked if he had any objection to you fellows coming withme. Said he hadn't, as long as the firm hadn't to pay your funeralexes; so hop in and let's get a move on."

  Nothing loth the two chums boarded the car, Villiers sitting byClaverhouse while Beverley reclined in lordly fashion on the backseat. Almost imperceptibly, in response to a touch of the electricstarter, the powerful car glided away.

  There was no doubt about it. Claverhouse knew how to handle ahigh-horse-powered engine, and before the car had traversed thelength of the crowded High Street, and had adroitly negotiated thenarrow Bargate, both Villiers and Beverley had abandoned the mentalvisions of finding themselves either in a mortuary or in aninfirmary.

  Alec kept the car well retarded until he reached the outskirts ofSouthampton, then opening out slightly he soon covered the somewhathilly road between the seaport and the cathedral city of Winchester,but never once did the needle of the speedometer point abovetwenty-five.

  "Don't think I was boasting about the sixty," remarked Claverhouse."There's a fine stretch of open road ahead. Then you watch her rip.Keep your eye on the speedometer. It's the only indication of therate we're doing."

  Presently the chalky highway ascended a long hill that forms part ofthe North Downs. Ahead as far as the eye could reach was a desolatestretch of unfenced road with a wide expanse of undulating grass-landon either side--straight as a die in the direction but interrupted bya number of gentle gradients.

  "Worthy Down," announced Alec. "Four hundred feet up. Now she'llrip."

  Rip she did. Swiftly the needle rose from thirty to forty-five.

  "All serene?" asked Claverhouse, only this time he did not turn hishead. His whole attention was centred upon the road, yet so silentand well protected was the car that he could speak in an ordinarytone and be heard distinctly.

  "Quite," replied Villiers.

  Fifty, fifty-five, sixty, sixty-five, seventy.

  The "Odouresque" was travelling. The wind whistled past the screens,the chalk road blended into a vague, swiftly-rushing riband of white.Everything within fifty yards was indistinct, like a badly-focusedphotograph, while for a mile behind the car a dense cloud of dusteddied in the back-draught of the swiftly-moving vehicle.

  "Look out, old man," cautioned Villiers. "There's a cyclist ahead."

  "Yes, I see him," replied Alec, gently retarding the terrificmomentum. "'Fraid he's spoiled my record."

  "Motor-cyclist," corrected Jack, as the approaching machine breastedone of the intervening ridges and disappeared in a dip of the road."Wonder if anything would happen if a bike going at, say, forty,passed a big car doing seventy? If----"

  He broke off. Simultaneously Claverhouse throttled down and appliedthe side-brakes.

  Before the car could be brought to a standstill it had surmounted aslight rise and was on the down grade leading to another ascent halfa mile or more away. Right in the hollow was a confused group offigures which resolved itself into a motor-cyclist bravely defendinghimself against four rough-looking men. The cycle lay on the grass agood ten yards from the road and a fifth ruffian was alreadybeginning to ransack the contents of a case strapped to the carrier.

  At first sight Villiers thought that there had been an accident, andthat the motor-cyclist had collided with a group of pedestrians, buthe was speedily undeceived. It was a case of highway robbery.

  Unfortunately, from the footpads' point of view, the rascals had notbargained for the approach of a car at seventy miles an hour. Lyingin wait for the solitary traveller, they had taken the precaution tosee that the straight road was otherwise deserted when the object oftheir attention approached. Nor were they aware of the presence ofthe swift, silent car until it appeared to leap from the groundwithin a hundred yards of them.

  "Look out, chums!" shouted the fellow standing over the fallenmotor-cycle, and acting upon his own warning he promptly took to hisheels.

  The others also fled, but not before one of them was held by theattacked motor-cyclist. It looked as if the fellow would be made aprisoner, for the other held on like a leech, until the ruffian drewa knife and struck.

  "After them!" yelled Beverley, taking a flying leap from the car.Villiers was a close second, ignoring Claverhouse's suggestion totake the car in pursuit.

  As it was the chase was futile. The assailants, young, agile, andstrong in wind, scattered in different directions, steadilyoutdistancing the three new arrivals, hampered as they were withheavy coats.

  "Pity we didn't stick to the car," remarked Alec regretfully, aspuffed and pouring with perspiration they made their way back to thevictim of the attack. "I bet we would have run at least two of themto earth. Fine sport it would have been, and the grass makes goodgoing. Hallo! He's up again."

  Claverhouse indicated the unfortunate motor-cyclist, who, holding onearm below the elbow, was ruefully contemplating his steed.

  "Hurt, sir?" inquired Villiers.

  "Scratch," replied the other with equal laconism.

  Then, as if the presence of his rescuers was unnoticed, he fumbledwith the fingers of his uninjured arm until he succeeded in openingthe leather case on the carrier.

  Apparently his investigations were satisfactory, for, closing thelid, he turned towards the three chums.

  "Thanks, awfully, for your timely assistance," he exclaimed. "It wasvery remiss of me not to say so before, but my head feels a trifledizzy. I'm afraid I haven't quite got the hang of things yet."

  "Let me bind your arm," suggested Beverley. "It is bleeding ratherbadly."

  "So it is," admitted the stranger. "I hardly noticed it, but it'stingling a bit now."

  Villiers helped him off with his motor-cycling coat and jacket androlled up his sleeve.

  "Clean cut," announced Beverley. "A
ny first-aid gadgets in the car,Alec?"

  "Trust me for that," replied Claverhouse. "I'll fetch the wallet."

  "Any suggestion as to the cause of that attack?" asked Villiers.

  "Can't say," was the non-committal reply. "I'm sorry they gotaway--very."

  "So am I," agreed Villiers sincerely. "According to the papers,robbery with violence is on the increase. One of the after-results ofthe war, I suppose. Going far?"

  "Southampton," replied the stranger. "I have an engagement at three."

  "So have we," added Beverley. "Is your bike all right?"

  Examination proved that it was rideable, although the front wheel wasslightly buckled and the exhaust-lever cable had snapped.

  "You'd better come in the car," suggested Claverhouse, when thebandaging operation was completed. "One of my friends can ride yourbike."

  "I'd be eternally grateful," replied the motor-cyclist. "I'm not muchof a hand at this sort of game, but with this wretched railway strikeon, what is a fellow to do?"

  "It's no use hanging on to the slack," observed Claverhouse, movingin the direction of the car. "Jump in and let's get along. First stopWinchester, I presume?"

  "What for?" asked the stranger. "Not on my account?"

  "But surely," said Claverhouse, in astonishment, "you are going toinform the police?"

  "A waste of valuable time," objected the other. "No, if you don'tmind dropping me in Southampton I'll be doubly obliged. I'll takethat attach? case with me, if you please."

  "Good enough," agreed Claverhouse. "Beverley, dear old soul, you'reriding the bike, I believe?"

  "That is so," admitted Bobby.

  "And," continued Alec, with a grin, "you think you'll hang on to us?You'll be dropped, old son, for a dead cert. So don't you think itwould be just as well to ask this gentleman's address? Where shall weput you down, sir?" he asked, turning to the stranger.

  "Richborough Chambers," was the unexpected reply.

  "Well, I'm hanged!" exclaimed Villiers. "That's rummy--very. Do youhappen to know of a fellow who, for certain reasons, calls himself'Joystick'?"

  A faint smile overspread the man's bull-dog features.

  "I am 'Joystick'," he replied.