eived my telephone
message?"

"Yes," said Silva. "I wanted to see you particularly. You understand
that what I say is wholly confidential."

"That I understand," said the man called Cartwright.

He took Pinto's proferred cigarette and lit it.

"I have been reading about you in the papers," said Pinto. "You're the
man who did the non-stop flight for the Western Aeroplane Company?"

"That's right," smiled Cartwright. "I have done many long nights. I
suppose you are referring to my San Sebastian trip?"

Pinto nodded.

"Now I want to ask you a few questions, and if they seem to be prying or
personal, you must believe that I have no other wish than to secure
information which is vital to myself. What position do you occupy with
the Western Company?"

Cartwright shrugged his shoulders.

"I am a pilot," he said. "If you mean, am I a director of the firm or am
I interested in the company financially, I regret that I must answer No.
I wish I were," he added, "but I am merely an employee."

Pinto nodded.

"That is what I wanted to know," he said. "Now, here is another
question. What does a first-class aeroplane cost?"

"It depends," said the other. "A long distance machine, such as I have
been flying, would cost anything up to five thousand pounds."

"Could you buy one? Are they on the market?" asked Pinto quickly.

"I could buy a dozen to-morrow," said the other promptly. "The R.A.F.
have been selling off their machines, and I know just where I could get
one of the best in Britain."

Pinto was looking at the stage, biting his lips thoughtfully.

"I'll tell you what I want," he said. "I am not very keenly interested
in aviation, but it may be necessary that I should return to Portugal in
a great hurry. It is no news to you that we Portuguese are generally in
the throes of some revolution or other."

"So I understand," said Cartwright, with a twinkle in his eye.

"In those circumstances," Pinto went on, "it may be necessary for me to
leave this country without going through the formality of securing a
passport. I want a machine which will carry me from London to, say,
Cintra, without a stop, and I want a pilot who can take me across the
sea by the direct route."

"Across the Bay of Biscay?" asked the aviator in surprise, and Pinto
nodded.

"I should not want to touch any other country en route, for reasons
which, I tell you frankly, are political."

Cartwright thought a moment.

"Yes, I think I can get