Burton of the Flying Corps

  Produced by Al Haines.

  Cover]

  THROUGH THE SKYLIGHT. _See page_ 22.]

  BURTON OF THE FLYING CORPS

  BY

  HERBERT STRANG

  _ILLUSTRATED BY C. E. BROCK_

  LONDON HENRY FROWDE HODDER AND STOUGHTON

  _First printed in 1916._

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD., BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

  CONTENTS

  I DEFENSE DE FUMER

  Showing how Burton made a trip to Ostend in pursuit of a spy

  II THE DEATH'S HEAD HUSSAR

  Relating Burton's adventure in a French chateau

  III BORROWED PLUMES

  Showing how Burton caught a German in Bulgaria

  IV THE WATCH-TOWER

  Showing what followed an accident in Macedonia

  V THE MISSING PLATOON

  Relating an incident of trench warfare in Flanders

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  COLOUR PLATES

  Through the Skylight . . . _Frontispiece_ (_see page_ 22)

  An Interruption

  Nonplussed

  Hands up!

  DRAWINGS IN LINE

  "Oh, Mr. Burton, sir"

  Signals of Distress

  "I give him in charge"

  Congratulations

  "You have had an accident"

  The German Way

  The Marquis is hit

  The Door fell in with a Crash

  An Aerial Somersault

  "He looks a terrible fellow"

  A Discomfited Spy

  "Dismount, sir"

  Milosh waits

  "A strange find, upon my word"

  A Perilous Moment

  The British Way

  The Captain is annoyed

  Headings on pages 9, 63, 129, 163, 246

  Chapter I Heading]

  DEFENSE DE FUMER

  I

  About one o'clock one Saturday afternoon in summer, ahydro-aeroplane--or, as its owner preferred to call it, aflying-boat--dropped lightly on to the surface of one of the many creeksthat intersect the marshes bordering on the river Swale. The pilot, ayouth of perhaps twenty years, having moored his vessel to a stake inthe bank, leapt ashore with a light suit-case, and walked rapidly alonga cinder path towards the low wooden shed, painted black, that broke thelevel a few hundred yards away.

  It was a lonely spot--the very image of dreariness. All around extendedthe "glooming flats"; between the shed and Luddenham Church, a mile orso distant, nothing varied the grey monotony except an occasional tree,and a small red-brick, red-tiled cottage, which, with its flower-filledwindows, seemed oddly out of place amid its surroundings--an oasis in adesert.

  The youth, clad in khaki-coloured overalls and a pilot's cap, madestraight for the open door of the shed. There he set his suit-case onthe ground, and stepping in, recoiled before the acrid smell thatsaluted his nostrils. He gave a little cough, but the man stooping overa bench that ran along one of the walls neither looked up, nor in anyway signified that he was aware of a visitor. He was a tall, fair man,spectacled, slightly bald, clean shaven, dressed in garments apparentlyof india-rubber. The bench was covered with crucibles, retorts,blow-pipes, test tubes, Bunsen burners, and sundry other pieces ofscientific apparatus, and on the shelf above it stood an array of glassbottles and porcelain jars. It was into such a jar that the man was nowgazing.

  "Hullo, Pickles!" said the newcomer, coughing again. "What a frightfulstink!"

  The man lifted his head, looked vacantly through his spectacles for amoment, then bent again over the jar, from which he took a small portionof a yellowish substance on the end of a scalpel. Placing this in aglass bowl, he poured on it a little liquid from one of the glassbottles, stirred it with a glass rod, and watched. A smell of ammoniacombined with decayed fish mingled with the other odours in the air,causing the visitor to choke again.

  "Beautiful!" murmured the experimenter. He then poured some of thesolution into another vessel and gazed at it with the rapt vision of anenthusiast.

  Ted Burton leant against the doorpost. He knew that it was useless tointerrupt his friend until the experiment was concluded. But becomingimpatient as the minutes passed, he took out a cigarette, and was aboutto strike a match. Then, however, at a sudden recollection of hissurroundings, he slipped out into the open air, taking great gulps as ifto clear his throat of the sickening fumes, and proceeded to light hiscigarette in ease of mind.

  By and by a cheery voice hailed him from the interior.

  "That you, Teddy?"

  "If you've quite finished," said Burton, putting his head in at thedoor, after he had first flung away his half-smoked cigarette.

  "Glad to see you, my dear fellow. I say, will you do something for me?You came in your machine, of course."

  "Of course. What is it? It's about lunch-time, you know."

  "Is it? But it won't take you long. I've run out of picric acid, andcan't get on. Just fly over to Chatham, will you, and bring some backwith you. You'll get it at Wells's in the High Street: you'll be thereand back in half an hour or so."

  "Can't you wait till after lunch?"

  "Well, I can, but it will be a nuisance. You see, the whole experimentis hung up for want of the stuff."

  "Oh, very well. By the way, you've done it at last, I see."

  "Done what?"

  "Pulled off the phenosulphonitro-something-or-other that you've beenworking at I don't know how long."

  "How on earth did you know?" inquired his friend with an air of surpriseand chagrin.

  Burton pulled out a newspaper, unfolded it, and handed it over, pointingto a short paragraph.

  We understand that a new high explosive of immense power, the inventionof Dr. Bertram Micklewright, is about to be adopted for the BritishNavy. Dr. Micklewright has been for some years engaged in perfectinghis discovery, and after prolonged experimentation has succeeded inrendering his explosive stable.

  "Well, I'm hanged!" cried Micklewright, frowning with annoyance. "TheAdmiralty swore me to secrecy, and now they've let the cat out of thebag. Some confounded whipper-snapper of a clerk, I suppose, who's got ajournalist brother."

  "It's true, then?"

  "Yes, by Jove, it's true! Look, here's the stuff; licks lydditehollow."

  He took some yellowish crystals from a porcelain bath and displayed themwith the pride of an inventor.

  "I say, Pickles, is it safe?" said Burton, backing as the chemist heldthe stuff up for his inspection.

  "Perfectly," said Micklewright with a smile. "It's more difficult eventhan lyddite to detonate, and it'll burn without exploding. Look here!"

  He put a small quantity into a zinc pan, lit a match, and applied it. Acolumn of suffocating smoke rose swiftly to the roof. Burton spluttered.

  "Beautiful!" he gasped ironically. "I'm glad, old man; your fortune'smade now, I suppose. But I can't say I like the stink. Takes yourappetite away, don't it?"

  "Ah! You mentioned lunch. Just get me that stuff like a good fellow;then I'll prepare my solution; and then we'll have lunch and you candispose of me as you please."