nce, and
you'll have to rig a crane to lift her."

"The fence must come down. I'll pay."

"But drat it all--"

"Look here, farmer, it's got to be done. Here are the men; just oblige
me by showing them a light at the fence, and set them to take down
enough of it to free the aeroplane--carefully; I don't want it
smashed. There's a sovereign on account; you shall have a cheque for
the rest when you send in the bill."

Apparently the magic touch of gold reconciled the farmer to these
hasty proceedings, for he made no more ado, but took the lamp and bade
the three men to follow him.

"What's wrong, mister?" asked Rodier. "You look as if you had been
shocked."

Smith drew the paper from his pocket, gave it to Rodier, and then,
striking a match, showed him the paragraph, and lighted more matches
while he read it.

"Mon dieu!" ejaculated the Frenchman, when he was halfway through. "It
is your father!"

"Yes; my brother is with him. I must get home; it will kill my mother
if she sees this."

Rodier read the paragraph to the end.

"My word, it is bad business," he said. "These cannibals!... And they
have no arms. What horror!"

Smith left him abruptly and walked to the fence to see how the work of
dismantling it was proceeding. Rodier whistled, and thrusting his
hands into his pockets, sat down on a bag of straw and appeared to be
deep in a brown study. Sounds of hammering came from the fence; a
light breeze was scattering the mist, and he could now see clearly the
three men under the farmer's direction carefully removing the fencing
beneath the aeroplane. Rodier watched them for a few minutes, but an
onlooker would have gathered the impression that his thoughts were far
away.

Suddenly he sprang up, muttering, "Ah! On peut le faire, quand meme.
Courage, mon ami!" and hastened to rejoin his employer.

"What distance, mister," he said, "from here to there--to the
cannibals?"

"Thirteen thousand miles, I suppose, more or less."

"Ah!" the Frenchman's face fell. "Thirteen thousand!" he repeated,
then was silent for a while, touching his brow as if making some
abstruse calculation. Smith turned away.

"Ah! Qu'importe?" cried Rodier, after a few moments. "On peut le
faire!"

He hastened to Smith, drew him aside, and spoke rapidly to him for a
few moments. The look of doubt that first came to Smith's face was
soon replaced by a look of confidence. He engaged in a hurried
colloquy with his man, at the close of