Chapter SIXTEEN

Thus came the climax to the most remarkable piratical adventure in history. Glaring headlines in the newspapers throughout the world told the story of the dramatic battle in the skies and brought a sigh of relief to the inhabitants of every country that the menace of the pirate had been removed. Editorials galore were written pointing out the futility of such excursions into outlawry and praising the action of organized government that planned and executed so successfully the measures against the man who had placed himself outside the pale of the law.

Although the news of the pirate’s demise brought a feeling of satisfaction to the world in general to two persons in Honolulu it brought calamity. To one, a father, it brought grief over the tragic death of his only daughter and fear for the recovery of his wife who had been prostrated from shock ever since the forcible abduction of her daughter by the pirate. To the other, the victor over the pirate, after a brief moment of merciful oblivion, it brought a state of collapse of all his forces of vitality which set in as a result of the complications that had followed upon his physical fatigue and grave mental anguish.

Fitzgerald’s condition had become so serious after his collapse that it had been necessary to remove him immediately to the post hospital. There physicians were attempting to restore him, but his mental condition was such that they expressed grave fears over the chances of his recovery.

By one of the strangest freaks of fortune, Arthur Ingleton had arrived on the transpacific airship at Honolulu at the dramatic moment in Fitzgerald’s narrative. He arrived to begin the quest for his daughter, only to learn that she had been killed.

His was a tragic quandary. On the one hand he found his mission set to naught at its very inception by the irony of fate, and on the other he was confronted with the task of breaking the news to his wife who was already in a serious condition as the result of the abduction of her daughter. What effect would the news of her death have upon his wife? He dreaded the thought. He had already made inquiries as to her condition to telephone immediately after his arrival. When told how serious her condition was he had agreed with the hospital authorities that it would be best not to tell her of his arrival before he had surveyed the situation. Now all he had to tell her, when greeting her, was that Mary was dead.

As he pondered over the situation he realized that he must think before acting. “I cannot tell her yet,” he told himself, “because the news would kill her. Yet I cannot permit her to build up false hopes as the effect of the final announcement might be equally grave. I must await before seeing her and plan out some means whereby the shock of the news will be minimized.”

For two days he was impaled upon the horns of his dilemma, with no escape in sight. It was more than two months since his wife had been carried to the hospital after her daughter was taken on the pirate machine. He himself had not been able to get to Honolulu before because of the interruption in the transpacific airship schedules caused by the presence and activity of the pirate. His wife was convalescing very slowly, and while much better physically, was still in such a mental state that her physicians counseled against anything that might cause her further shock. He had consulted with them, told them of the situation as soon as he had learned Fitzgerald’s story and asked their advice. They told him it were best for the present to keep the news of their daughter’s death from his wife, and also that it would be better for him to wait further before seeing her, particularly as she would unquestionably ask him about Mary.

Not only was Mrs. Ingleton in a serious condition, but Commander Fitzgerald was much worse. His long exposure in the flight to the scene of the battle and during the battle, and the subsequent flight to Honolulu, coupled with the extreme mental strain under which he had labored, had produced such serious results that the doctors at the post hospital were of the opinion that his recovery would be a very long process, even with every chance favoring him. In fact they frankly stated there was a strong possibility that he might not recover at all.

During the past two days he had been in a semi-conscious state, but extremely restless. Throughout this period he uttered unintelligible and incoherent sentences in long, rambling speeches, and he had not had a single lucid moment. He had failed completely to recognize anyone who approached him. Even Ingleton who called in the hospital in the hope of learning something from him about Mary’s death, failed to elicit the slightest recognition.

Such was the situation at Honolulu. In the meantime Commodore Heathcote and the other air commanders had received instructions from Washington to disband, as quickly as possible, all the emergency aerodromes that had been established for the purpose of coping with the pirate. They were told to superintend the work of transporting all the squadrons and their equipment back to their permanent bases.

This work was already under way. The commercial air transportation lines resumed their normal schedules. The operating companies had lost no time, after the official notice of the pirate’s destruction had been announced, in getting back to their regular service. The experience gained since the advent of the pirate and during his brief reign of terror, were the subject of many governmental conferences. From all quarters came the insistent demand for adequate permanent policing of the distant airways of the world with the most up-to-date and effective aircraft units, so that any possible menace of similar nature could in the future be coped with at the very outset, thereby eliminating any possibility of disruption to the regular aerial transit lines that had become necessary arteries in the world’s commerce.

To satisfy this demand two picked squadrons that had been dispatched to the Pacific for duty against the pirate were ordered to remain in Honolulu temporarily until such time as their permanent location for police duty should have been finally decided.