derson has just now routed him out of the
starboard storage-room, near the reserve petrol-tank."

"Hm! Who is he?"

Bohannan shrugged stout shoulders.

"Don't know yet. He's still dopy. Just coming out of the effects of
the lethalizing gas."

"Ah, yes, yes, I see. One of the former crew, I suppose. This is
quite inexcusable. That a man should have been overlooked and left
aboard--it won't do, Major. Kloof was responsible for that room. Kloof
will have to suffer. Any other news?"

"Travers, the New Zealander, is wounded."

"Badly?"

"I'm afraid he's hard hit, sir."

"Well, I'll have a look at him and at this stowaway. Where are they,
now?"

"In the lazaret, I suppose you call it. Though what a hospital is,
aboard an air-liner, blest if I know!"

"Sick-bay, we'll call it. Problems rising already. A stowaway--rather
odd, I must say. Still, as a problem, it's not hard to solve. Nothing
simpler than dropping a man overboard."

"You--surely, you wouldn't do that!" ejaculated the major, startled.
His rubicund face grew round with amazement.

"That remains to be seen. Come, let's have a look at him!"

Together they went out into the brightly lighted main corridor, near
the ladder to the upper gallery, turned to the right and walked aft.
A door, just a little abaft the chartroom and, opposite the Master's
cabin, gave a glimpse of the as yet unoccupied smoke-room. Astern
of this, they passed the dining-saloon with its long table and
its swivel-chairs. Beyond several stateroom doors they came to the
transverse corridor at the other side of which, directly facing the
main corridor, the engine-room door opened.

Entering the engine-room, they found themselves in a brightly lighted
compartment fifteen feet wide by twenty-six feet, seven inches long.
This compartment contained six Norcross-Brail engines, each capable
of developing 1,150 H.P. The engines were in charge of Auchincloss and
two assistant engineers, who had all six engines filling the room with
a drowsy drone, like ten billion bees humming themselves to sleep in
some mysterious hive.

So nicely adjusted was every part, so accurately true was every shaft,
bearing, gear, that practically no vibration could be noted. The
voice, in ordinary tones, carried perfectly; and yet in that small
space nearly 7,000 H.P. were being produced and transmitted to the
propellers and to the storage batteries that operated helicopters and
compressed-air system, as well as