e came the sound of galloping horses, and the incessant clanging
of a bell. Smith laughed.

"Your blaze has roused the Epsom Fire Brigade," he said with a
chuckle.

"Well, I thought I'd better make a big one to make sure of you,"
replied Barracombe.

Smith waited with his hand on the lever until the fire-engine had
dashed up.

"What the blazes!" cried the captain, as he leapt from his seat,
looking from the motor-car to the aeroplane with mingled amazement and
indignation.

"Good-bye, Billy," cried Smith; "I'll leave you to explain."

The propeller whirled round, the machine flew forwards, and in a few
seconds was soaring with its booming hum into the air. Smith glanced
down and saw the fireman facing Barracombe, his annoyance being
evidently greater than his curiosity. He would have smiled if he
could have heard Barracombe's explanation.

"W-w-why yes," he said, affecting a distressing stutter; "this kind of
b-b-bonfire is a hobby of m-mine; it's about my only r-r-recreation.
M-m-my name? Certainly. My name's William bub-bub-Barracombe, and
you'll find me in, any day between t-ten and f-five, at 532
mum-mum-Mincing Lane."

CHAPTER III

ACROSS EUROPE TO THE BOSPHOROUS

It had just turned half-past twelve on Friday morning when Smith said
good-bye to his friend William Barracombe on Epsom Downs. The sky was
clear; the moon shone so brightly that by its light alone he could
read the compass at his elbow, without the aid of the small electric
lamp that hung above it. He set his course for the south-east, and
flew with a light breeze at a speed of at least two hundred miles an
hour.

His machine was a biplane, and represented the work and thought of
years. Smith never minimized the part which Laurent Rodier had had in
its construction; indeed, he was wont to say that without Rodier he
would have been nowhere. Their acquaintance and comradeship had begun
in the most accidental way. Two years before, Smith was taking part in
an aeroplane race from Paris to London. On reaching the Channel, he
found himself far ahead of all his competitors, except a Frenchman,
who, to his chagrin, managed to keep a lead of almost a mile. Each
carried a passenger. Not long after leaving the French coast, a cloud
of smoke suddenly appeared in the wake of the Frenchman's aeroplane,
and to Smith's alarm the machine in a few seconds dropped into the
sea. Instantly he steered for the spot, and brought his own aeroplane
to wit