Page:Amazing Stories Volume 01 Number 04.djvu/65

Rh the magneto apart, and to withdraw the armature. He gave it one look and with a sickly smile uttered:

"Ausgebrannt, Herr Leutnant." Herr Leutnant took the armature into his own hands and inspected it critically. Sure enough it was burnt out, if ever there was a burnt out armature. Perhaps fused would be a better term. The armature was beyond repair, a child could see that. He flung it away and went over to the next nearest flyer. But the mechanic had already located the trouble—in the magneto. Burnt out, too!

Von Unterrichter unutterably sick at heart, aimlessly wandered about the other machines. In each case the result was the same: Every magneto armature of the fifteen flyers was burnt out, the wires fused together, all insulation gone!

"Aber so 'was", muttered von Unterrichter, looking about him helplessly. It took fully five minutes before it filtered through his thick skull that this disaster that overtook his "circus" could by no means be a coincidence.

"Verfluchte Amerikaner", he said, "probably a new Teufelmaschine of Edison!"

But what would the Kommando say to this? Instantly he stiffened as he jumped into a waiting automobile, attached to the airdrome.

"Zum Kommando, schnell", he ordered the driver as he sank back into his seat. He must report this queer business to headquarters at once. The driver cranked the engine, then cranked it some more. Pfut pfut  pfut  sputtered the engine asthmatic-like, but it did not start. He tried again. Same result.

ONNERWETTER nochmal," stormed the Baron, vexed over the delay, "was ist denn jetzt los? why in thunder don't you start you miserable dog?" [sic] But the engine would not start. The perplexed chauffeur climbed into the seat of the old style car, which still had its faithful spark coils, so necessary to the ignition system. But the spark coil refused to work, although the storage battery was fully charged and all the connections were right. Cautiously he pulled out one of the spark coil units from its box. One look told the story.

"Ausgebrannt, Herr Leutnant," he said weakly, for he had seen the burnt out magneto armatures a few minutes before.

Von Unterrichter, with eyes almost popping out of his head, was struck absolutely speechless for half a minute. "Helliger Strohsack", he muttered awe-struck, remembering his young sister's favorite expression, whenever something out of the ordinary happened to her. He finally collected himself sufficiently and jumped out of the car.

"Zum Telefon", he muttered to himself. He must report this uncanny occurrence at once to the Kommando. Not a second was to be lost. He at last understood that something momentous had happened. He made the airdrome on the run and though it was only 200 yards away he surprised himself at the speed he made. Puffing volubly he arrived at the telephone. He gave the handle several quick turns, grasped the receiver and simultaneously bellowed into the mouthpiece in front of him:

"Hallo, hallo" but he went no further. The receiver flew from his ear, for there had been a loud clattering, rattling, ear-splitting noise in the instrument that almost burst his eardrum. He made a foolish grimace, as he held his ear with his hand. Cautiously he approached the receiver to within a few inches of his other ear and listened. All was quiet, not a sound. Mechanically he unscrewed the receiver cap and looked at the two bobbins. They were charred and black. The telephone was dead.

HE instrument slipped from his hand and dangling by its red and purple cord went crashing against the wall of the airdrome, while von Unterrichter limply sank into a chair.

Once more he got up and walked out. He must get in touch with his General at all costs. This was becoming too serious. Ah he had it, the field telegraph. There was one at the other end of the building. He went there as fast as his legs could carry him. He opened the door of the little office, but one look sufficed. The young man in charge of the telegraph sat dejected in a corner, a dumb expression in his eyes. Long purple sparks were playing about the instruments on the table. A child could have seen that it was impossible to either send or receive a telegram under such conditions Ah! an inspiration

"Dummkopf," he muttered to himself, "Why didn't I think of it before. Die Funkenstation! Surely the wireless must work! Ha, ha, there are no wires there at least to burn out!"

The radio station was over a kilometer away. He knew it well, for he had flown over it a great many times. To get there quick, that was the question. The Kommando was at least eight kilometers to the rear, and he knew he could not make that distance on foot very quickly. Ah, yes, there was a horse somewhere around. The cavalry horse was located soon, and as the young airman walked hurriedly about, troubled as he was, he could not help noticing the listless attitude of every man he passed. Men were whispering in a hushed manner, alarm was plainly written on their faces—the fear or the unknown.

Von Unterrichter jumped on to his horse and galloped in the direction of the field radio station. It did not take him long to reach it, and long before he dismounted he could see the bright blue spark of the transmitting station.

"Gott sei Lob", he uttered to himself as he jumped to the ground, "at least that's working."

Now it so happened that von Unterrichter had been an expert wireless man before the war, and while he did not know a great deal about electricity, he well knew how to send and receive messages.

He ran to the wagon which carried the mobile radio field apparatus and peremptorily ordered the operator in charge away. "Aber Herr Leutnant", expostulated the thus rudely interrupted man, "I tell you "

"Maul halten", thundered von Unterrichter, with which he sat down, clamping the operator's receiviers on his own head.