The Mystery Queen

"Not on this occasion," answered Dan, coolly, and coming to the point. "I came with two ladies, Miss Moon and her companion. They are stopping at the Peacock Hotel for a short time."

"Miss Moon! Miss Moon!" mused Mrs. Jarsell, "oh, yes, the young lady you are engaged to marry. The daughter of that poor man who was murdered." "You have an excellent memory, Mrs. Jarsell."

"We have little to exercise our memories in this dull place," said the woman graciously, and with a motherly air, "you don't ask after Miss Armour, I observe. That is very unkind of you, as you are a great favorite with her."

"Miss Armour is my very good friend," responded Halliday, cautiously, "and so are you, since you induced Mr. Vincent to lend me the aeroplane."

"I am as glad that I did that as I am sorry you lost the race, Mr. Halliday."

"Fortune of war," said Dan, lightly, "we can't always be successful you know, Mrs. Jarsell. I wish you had seen the start; it was grand."

"I wish I had," said the woman, lying glibly, "but it was impossible for me to leave Miss Armour on that day, as she had bad health. In fact, Mr. Vincent wished to go also and see how his machine worked; but he could not get away either. Still," added Mrs. Jarsell, with a cheerful air, "perhaps it is as well, so far as I am concerned, that I could not go. Aviation seems to be very dangerous, and I should have been afraid for your safety."

"Oh, I shall never come to harm in the air, I hope," responded Dan, with emphasis, "you must let me take you up some day." Mrs. Jarsell shuddered. "I should be terrified out of my wits," she protested, "fancy a heavy woman, such as I am, trying to emulate a bird. Why, I am quite sure I would fall and smash like an egg, even supposing there is any machine capable of bearing my none too trifling weight."

"Oh, I think there is, Mrs. Jarsell. Some machines can carry two, you know, and lately in France an aviator took five or six people from one given point to another. It is quite safe." Mrs. Jarsell shook her head seriously. "I think not, since aviation is yet in its infancy. In five years, if I live as long, I may venture, but now-no, thank you, Mr. Halliday."

"Most ladies are afraid, certainly. Even Miss Moon, who is plucky, will not let me take her for a fly."

"Miss Moon, of course. I was quite forgetting her. I hope you will bring her to see me and Miss Armour."

"If she stays here, certainly. But I think of returning to town to-morrow, so I may not be able to bring her. I daresay Mrs. Bolstreath will, however," ended Dan, quite certain in his own mind that the chaperon would find some good excuse to avoid the visit. "I shall be delighted," Mrs. Jarsell murmured vaguely, "how have you been, Mr. Halliday, since I saw you last?" It seemed to Dan that she asked this question with intention, and he was entirely willing to give her a frank answer. In frankness, as in taking Lillian under the guns of the enemy, lay the safety of both. Halliday was convinced of this. "I have been rather worried," he said, slowly, and with a side-glance at Mrs. Jarsell's watchful face. "I had an adventure."

"I love adventures," replied the woman, heavily, "and this one?"

"Well. I was hustled into a taxi-cab and carried in a drugged condition to some place where I met with a collection of scoundrels. A kind of murder-gang, you might call it, who slay, blackmail, and thieve for the sake of power."

"Rather a strange reason," said Mrs. Jarsell, equably, and not at all moved, "I should say the reason was for money."

"That, with power," explained Dan, "but, indeed, this society appears to be governed on wonderful principles, such as one would ascribe to honest men."

"In what way?" Mrs. Jarsell was quite curious in a detached manner. "Well, the members are chaste and sober and industrious."

"They must be virtuous. You are describing a society of saints."

"Quite so; only these saints apply their virtues to crime. They have a head who is called Queen Beelzebub." Mrs. Jarsell shuddered and drew lines on the dust of the road with her cane slowly and carefully. "Did you see her?" she asked, "it's a horrid name, full of horrid possibilities."

"No, I did not see her or anyone," said Dan, frankly, "the room was in darkness save for a red light around Queen Beelzebub's mask."

"Oh, this person wore a mask! How did you know she was a woman?"

"Well, you see, the name is Queen Beelzebub."

"That might be taken by a man to hide the truth."

"It might," admitted the other carelessly, "and, indeed, I don't think that any woman would have the nerve to belong to such a gang."

"I agree with you," said Mrs. Jarsell, gravely, "well, and what happened?"

"I was asked by Queen Beelzebub to join the gang and share the profits, which you may guess are large. I have a month to think over the matter." Mrs. Jarsell looked at him keenly. "Surely, you would never belong to such an organization," she said with a reproachful tone in her heavy voice. "Oh, I don't know. I have my own axe to grind like other people, and, if this gang helps me to grind it, I may consider the offer. Do I shock you, Mrs. Jarsell? Your voice sounded as though I did."

"You shock me more than I can say," she replied, decisively, "that an honest man should even think of such a thing is dreadful. This gang should be denounced to the police. I wonder you have not done so already." Dan shook his head and admired the cool, clever way in which she was playing a very dangerous game, though, to be sure, she was far from suspecting he guessed her connection with Queen Beelzebub. "I can't do that yet."

"What do you mean by-yet?" questioned Mrs. Jarsell, and this time there was a distinct note of alarm in her voice. "I risk death if I denounce the gang, not only to myself, but to Miss Moon. I am sure she and I would be killed as her father was killed, if I moved in the matter. Also, I am not sure of many things." Mrs. Jarsell, still drawing patterns, spoke thoughtfully. "I don't think you are wise to speak of this gang if it is so dangerous, even to a country mouse such as I am. Of course, I shall say nothing, as I have no one to say anything to, and if I had I should not speak. But if you talk to a stranger like me about things you were told to keep secret, you or Miss Moon may be murdered."

"I thought so a week ago," admitted Halliday, candidly. "Then you don't think so now."

"No. Not since Marcus Penn died." Mrs. Jarsell drew a long breath and wriggled uneasily. "Who is Marcus Penn?"

"Well, he was the secretary of Sir Charles Moon, and afterwards he was the secretary of Lord Curberry. Now he's a corpse."

"Oh," cried Mrs. Jarsell, suddenly, "I wish you wouldn't talk of these horrible things. Has this gang-"

"Murdered him?" finished the young man, "yes, I believe so, although a verdict of suicide was brought in. But poor Penn's death may be the means of saving me and Miss Moon."

"Indeed!" the woman's tone became harsh and imperative, but she did not ask any questions. "Yes. He left a confession." Even the side-glance Dan sent in Mrs. Jarsell's direction showed him that her olive cheeks had turned to a dead white. However, she said nothing, although she moistened her lips slowly; so he went on easily, as if he were telling an idle story. "This confession was concealed in Lord Curberry's house, but Penn sent a note of its whereabouts to Miss Moon, who told me. I got the confession and placed it in safe keeping."

"That was wise," said Mrs. Jarsell, with an effort. "And the safe keeping?"

"Oh, I shall only tell the whereabouts of the confession and the name of the person who holds it when there is no necessity for the confession to be used."

"I don't see quite what you mean, Mr. Halliday."

"Well, you see, Mrs. Jarsell, I have to protect myself and Miss Moon from the machinations of the society. The person who holds the confession will not open the sealed envelope in which it is placed unless something happens to Miss Moon or to myself. Therefore, so long as no member of the gang hurts us, the secrets of the gang are quite safe." To his attentive ear it seemed that Mrs. Jarsell drew a long breath of relief. With a command of herself which did her credit, she displayed no emotion, but observed playfully, "It is very clever of you and very wise to guard yourself in this way. Certainly the gang cannot hurt you in any way so long as there is danger of the confession being opened in the event of things happening to you or to Miss Moon. Suppose the confession is a very dreadful one, Mr. Halliday?"

"It is not so dreadful or so full as I should like it to be," said Dan, in his calmest manner, "but there is sufficient set down to warrant the interference of the authorities. If that confession comes into the hands of the Scotland Yard officials, they can lay hands on the gang;" he was bluffing when he said this, as he was not quite sure if Curberry had not let Mrs. Jarsell know that the confession-as Curberry thought-had been destroyed. "I think the police should know," said Mrs. Jarsell, rising. "Thank you for nothing," said Dan, following her example, "but, if I move in the matter, I run the risk of death. Besides, I may accept the offer of the society. Who knows?"

"Don't do that," implored Mrs. Jarsell, so earnestly that Dan was convinced Curberry had not told her of any confession, "it's so wicked."

"Perhaps it is. However, if the society leave me and Miss Moon alone, the confession won't be opened and the gang is safe. Otherwise-" "Otherwise the whole association will be exposed to the danger of arrest," said Mrs. Jarsell, lightly, "well, it sounds all very dreadful to a country lady as I am. I wish you had not told me. Why did you tell me?"

"Because," said Dan, ironically, "I look upon you as a friend." Mrs. Jarsell's face cleared and she smiled. "I am your friend," she said in an emphatic way, "and, believe me when I say that I am sure Miss Moon is safe."

"Thank you," replied Dan, agreeably, "I am sure also." Then they parted with mutual compliments, smiles and handshakes.

CHAPTER XVII

AT BAY

When Dan left Mrs. Jarsell he was very well pleased with the promise she had given concerning the safety of Lillian. He fully believed that she, in her role of Queen Beelzebub, would keep that promise faithfully, if only because her own interests demanded such honesty. The fact that the confession of Penn was in the hands of a third party, to be made use of should anything happen to Miss Moon, prevented the Society of Flies from carrying out the threat made to him at the secret meeting. To save their own lives, the members would be forced-much against their will no doubt-to spare those of Lillian and himself. Dan chuckled at the way in which he had circumvented the deadly organization. But he had only scotched the snake; he had not killed it, and, until he did so, there was always that chance that it would strike when able to do so with safety. But, while Penn's confession remained in Laurance's hands, all was well. One thing struck Halliday as strange, and that was the persistence with which Mrs. Jarsell kept up the comedy of having-nothing-to-do-with-the-matter during so confidential a conversation. She knew that Penn had been a doubtful member of her gang; she knew that he had been despatched-as Dan truly believed-because he was not to be trusted, and now she knew that he had left a confession behind him, which was in the hands of her enemies. Also, she was aware that the man who spoke to her had read the confession and must have guessed that her name, as Queen Beelzebub, was mentioned therein. This being the case, it is to be presumed that she would speak freely, but, in place of doing so, she had pretended ignorance, and for his own ends he had humored her feigning. Either she doubted that such a confession existed, or she guessed in whose possession it was, and intended to regain it. "Queen Beelzebub knows well enough that Freddy is my best friend," thought Dan, as he returned to the Peacock Hotel, "and it would be reasonable for her to believe that he had Penn's confession, which is certainly the case. I should not be at all surprised if Freddy was inveigled into a trap as I was, so that he might be forced to surrender the document or rather what remains of it. If that were managed, Queen Beelzebub would revenge herself on Lillian and on me, since there would be nothing left to shield us from her spite. And, in any case, Freddy is in danger, as I am certain she guesses that he holds the confession," he mused for a few moments, and then added, aloud, "I shall return to town at once and see him." The more he thought the more he saw the necessity of doing this. Mrs. Jarsell's first move to counterplot him would be to seek out Lord Curberry and learn what she could, relative to what Penn had left behind him. Certainly Curberry would assure her that he had burnt the confession, in which case Queen Beelzebub would think that she would be free to act. But Halliday believed she was of too suspicious a nature to be quite convinced that he had only bluffed. Before taking any steps, she would decidedly ascertain for certain-although in what way it was difficult to say-if there really was any compromising document in Laurance's hands. To do so, she would, as Dan had thought a few minutes before, set a trap for him, and browbeat him into stating what he knew and what he held. Therefore, for Freddy's sake, it was necessary to go to London, and report in detail the conversation on the moor. Then the two could arrange what was best to be done. They were dealing with a coterie of daring scoundrels, who would stop at nothing to secure their own safety, and it behoved them to move warily. "We are walking on a volcano," was Halliday's concluding reflection. Of course, as it was useless to alarm the ladies, Dan said nothing of his meeting with Queen Beelzebub on the moor. However, on being questioned, he confessed the sudden thought which had sent him out of doors, and both Lillian and Mrs. Bolstreath agreed that it was entirely probable that Mrs. Jarsell did travel in up-to-date aeroplanes, like a mischief-making fairy. Then, in turn, they told him that Mildred had stayed for quite a long time and was altogether more charming each time she appeared. She suggested many trips and Mrs. Bolstreath was inclined to stay at Sheepeak longer than she intended, in spite of the near menace of Queen Beelzebub. Lillian was delighted with the lovely scenery, so gracious after the drab hues of London. "I don't see why we shouldn't get a house here after we are married," she said to her lover, "one of those delicious old manor houses of faded yellow stone. I could live quietly with Mrs. Bolstreath, while you ran up to business on your aeroplane."

"And all the time you would be fretting lest any harm came to him," said the chaperon, shaking her head, "besides, my dear, when you are married, you won't want me to be with you."

"Dear Bolly, I shall always want you, and so will Dan."

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Bolstreath, briskly, "two's company and three's none."

"Well," remarked Halliday, leisurely, "we can settle the matter when we are married, Lillian. Remember, before your uncle will consent, I shall have to discover who murdered your father."

"You have discovered who murdered him. It was the false Mrs. Brown, who is Mrs. Jarsell, who is Queen Beelzebub."

"So I believe, but I have to prove my case," said Dan, dryly, "and, moreover, I won't find it easy to place the woman in the dock when she has this accursed society at the back of her."

"You don't think there is danger?" asked Lillian, hastily. "No, no, no! Things are safer than ever, my dear. I go to town this evening, and can leave you here with the certainty that all is well."

"You go to town this evening?" said Mrs. Bolstreath, anxiously, "isn't that a very sudden resolution?"

"Oh, I think not," answered Dan, in an easy way. "I came down here only to settle you and Lillian. By the way, Sir John-"

"I wired our address, and he wrote me," interrupted Mrs. Bolstreath, "he is quite pleased that we are away. I rather think," the lady added, thoughtfully, "that Sir John is not ill-pleased we are away. At his age the constant presence of two women in his house is rather disconcerting. Finding we had left town he returned there to enjoy his own house to himself."

"In that case," said Dan, cheerfully, "he will be glad to see Lillian married."

"But to Lord Curberry, not to you."

"I would die rather than marry Lord Curberry," said Lillian, decisively, and with her chin in the air. "You won't be asked to do either one or the other, my dear," replied Dan, in his calmest tone. "We shall marry, right enough, whatever opposition Sir John may make. As to Lord Curberry," he hesitated. "Well?" asked Mrs. Bolstreath, impatiently. "I intend to see him when I return to town."

"I think it will be as well. Better have a complete understanding with him so that he will not worry Lillian any more."

"He won't," answered Dan, grimly, "and now I shall have to get away. I see Mrs. Pelgrin has had the trap brought round. Take care of Lillian." Lillian kissed her lover and followed him to the door of the sitting-room with a gay laugh. "Lillian can look after herself," she said lightly, "I am not afraid of Mrs. Jarsell or of anyone else. But you take care, Dan. I fear much more for you than for myself."

"I'm all right!" Dan, with an Englishman's dislike for an emotional scene, kissed the girl again and slipped out of the door. They saw him drive away in the gloom of the evening, and then settled to make themselves comfortable. Neither Lillian nor Mrs. Bolstreath would admit as much, but both felt rather downcast at Dan's sudden departure. Luckily, as he had been so cool and composed, they did not connect it with any fresh development likely to give trouble. In some vague way Mrs. Bolstreath guessed that Dan had spiked the guns of the enemy under which they were encamped, and, her certainty of safety, being infectious, Lillian also felt quite at her ease. Meanwhile, Dan reached the Beswick station in the ramshackle trap and was lucky enough to catch the in-going train to Thawley, just as it started to glide past the platform. The fortunate connection enabled him to board the seven-twenty express to London, where he hoped to arrive shortly before eleven that same evening. Knowing that Laurance's work kept him up late at night, he wired from Thawley, asking him to come to St. Pancras Station. Important as was Freddy's time, Dan knew that he would respond to the call at once, knowing that large issues would be the outcome of the present situation. Therefore, as the train dropped south, Halliday felt quite comfortable, as he had done all he could to arrange matters for the moment. Indeed, so assured did he feel that he had taken all possible precautions, that he did not even trouble to think over the matter, but fell asleep and refreshed his weary brain and body. Only when the train arrived at St. Pancras did he tumble out, sleepy still, to catch a sight of his faithful friend on the platform. "Nothing wrong?" asked Laurance, hurrying up. "Nothing wrong," responded Dan, with a yawn, "but I have much to talk to you about. Get a four-wheeler."

"A taxi you mean."

"I don't mean. I wish to travel as slowly as possible, so as to explain matters. Tell the man to drive to The Moment office. There I can drop you and go on to my rooms." Thus understanding the situation, Freddy selected a shaky old cab, drawn by a shaky old horse, and the rate at which it progressed through the brilliantly lighted streets was so slow that they were a very long time arriving at The Moment office in Fleet Street. In the damp-smelling interior of this antique conveyance, Halliday, now quite alert and clearheaded, gave his friend a full account of all that had happened, particularly emphasizing the interview with Mrs. Jarsell. "H'm," commenced Freddy, when he ended, "so she didn't give herself away?"

"No; and very wisely, too, I think. She didn't know how much I knew, and wasn't keen on giving me rope to hang her."

"But she knows you have read Penn's confession-what there is of it."

"I didn't tell her that I had anything else than the full confession, old son. She may think I have the whole document intact, or-and this I fancy is probable-she may believe that there isn't any confession in existence."

"Curberry may have written to her, telling her that he burnt the confession."

"No," said Dan, after a pause, "I really don't think he has done that. Mrs. Jarsell went dead white when I mentioned a confession."

"Then she believes that you spoke the truth," persisted Laurance, hopefully. "She may, or she may not, as I said before," retorted Halliday, "anyhow, as she can't be sure if I'm in jest or earnest, she will delay proceedings until she sees Curberry. If he swears that he burnt the confession, Mrs. Jarsell may act; therefore I want you to send him an unsigned telegram, containing these three words, 'All is discovered!'"

"What will that do?"

"Put the fear of God into Curberry, into Queen Beelzebub, and into the Society of Flies as a whole. The warning will be so vague that they won't know who will strike the blow."

"They will suspect you, Dan."

"In that case," replied Halliday, promptly, "Queen Beelzebub will leave Lillian alone, and my object will be obtained. I want to gain time, and can only do so with safety to Lillian by keeping these beasts in a state of uncertainty as to how much or how little is known."

"I see," Laurance thought the plan a good one, "since you say that you have the confession and Curberry will say that he destroyed it, Queen Beelzebub will be undecided. This telegram, like a bolt from the blue, will clinch matters and make her and her gang pause before they take steps to hurt you or Miss Moon. I'll send the wire. What then?"

"Then-to-morrow that is-I go down to see Curberry, and have it out with him. His name is mentioned in the portion of the confession which you hold and we know enough to ensure his arrest."

"That is doubtful," protested Freddy, thoughtfully, "I have read the confession. Penn hints a lot about Curberry, but doesn't say enough to-" "Never mind, he says enough for my purpose, which is to scare Curberry; belonging to the Society of Flies, as he does. I believe he got his uncle and cousin put out of the way to inherit the title and property. I'll harp on that string. If Queen Beelzebub calls-"

"There's the danger, Dan," interposed Freddy, quickly and anxiously. "I know. I am far from suggesting that there is not danger, as we are driving these people into a corner. If I don't turn up at your office by five o'clock to-morrow, Freddy, or if I don't send a wire saying that I am safe, you get Inspector Tenson, tell him all, show him the confession, and come down with him to Blackheath to see the Inspector who had charge of the Durwin murder. Then, armed with the authority of the law, you can go to Curberry's house. If I am missing, you will know how to act." Laurance drew a deep breath as the cab turned into Fleet Street. "It's a big risk for you, Dan." "Pooh. As an aviator I am always taking risks. I must settle this business somehow, if I wish to marry Lillian and save her life as well as my own from these infernal beasts. Here you get down, Freddy. Don't forget to do as I tell you," and Laurance promised to faithfully adhere to his instructions, while the four-wheeler lumbered away in the direction of the Strand. Halliday possessed one of those rare natures which invariably reveal their best in time of danger. He knew what to say and how to act when in a tight corner, and his training as an aviator had learned him to take risks from which less level-headed men would have shrunk. At the present moment he required all his energies to cope with unforeseen emergencies, since he did not quite know what action would be taken against him. Of course, he was confident that some sort of action would be taken, since he had aroused the wrath of a brilliantly clever and intensely evil set of people. Fearful for their own safety, the Society of Flies would do its best to get rid of him and to get rid of Lillian, as they had gotten rid of others who had stood in their crooked path. Both he and the girl were safeguarded so far by the confession, but it all depended upon what Curberry said to Queen Beelzebub as to how long such a safeguard would be efficacious. He had told the woman one story, but Curberry would tell her another, so it was doubtful which she would believe. The telegram from an unknown source might turn the balance in his favor, and lead both Mrs. Jarsell and her friend to believe that there was a chance of their devilish doings coming to light. Having arrived at this conclusion, Dan fell asleep, quite indifferent to the fact that the sword of Damocles hung over his head, and that the single hair might part at any moment. Herein he showed the steadiness of his nerves, and the value of a nature trained to face the worst smilingly. Next morning Halliday arose brisk and cheerful with the expectation of having a most exciting day, and as soon as he finished his breakfast made his way, by train, to Blackheath. On arriving there, somewhere about twelve o'clock, he did not go immediately to Curberry's house, but walked to the place where the Vincent aeroplane was housed. It had just struck him that Mrs. Jarsell might have wired to one of her friends to damage the machine, so that it could not be used. She had procured it for him and he-to put it plainly-had abused her friendship, so it was not likely she would permit him to retain, unharmed, a wonderful airship, with which he could make money and win fame. But, when he reached the shed and saw the man whom he had engaged to watch the machine, he found that his fears were groundless. No one had been near the place, and, so far as he could ascertain, the aeroplane was in perfect condition. Then it struck Dan, as it was yet too early to call on Lord Curberry, that he might indulge in a little fly. His enemy's house was only a stone's throw distant, on the borders of the open space, and Halliday did not intend to lose sight of the entrance gate, lest Mrs. Jarsell should steal in unobserved. In the air, and hovering directly over the grounds, he could see all who came and went. Also, incidentally, he might gain information as to what was going on in the gardens. Somewhat oddly, it occurred to him that if Queen Beelzebub came, she might push Curberry into the ornamental pond, as Marcus Penn had been pushed. There was no knowing what she might do in her despair. In brutal English, Queen Beelzebub was at bay, and could fight, like the rat she was, in the corner into which she was being slowly driven by circumstances, engineered by Mr. Daniel Halliday. Therefore, Dan saw to the fittings of the biplane, and ascertained by sight and touch that they had not been tampered with. He oiled the engine, saw that it did not lack petroleum, and, in fact, was as careful of all and everything connected with the structure as though he was preparing for a long race. Of course there was the usual crowd of loafers who came to see him start, and he swept upward from the ground in a graceful curve. The aeroplane acted easily and truthfully, according to its very excellent design, and the aviator, after making a wide circle, dropped down, to pass slowly over the grounds of Curberry's mansion. He could see no one about, even though the day was fine and sunny, so concluded that the owner, having received the anonymous telegram, was shivering within doors, terrified to venture out. In his impatience to learn the absolute truth, Dan turned his machine back to the shed, and came to rest almost at the very door. Owing to the examination of the aeroplane, and the experimental flight to test its working order, time had passed uncommonly swiftly, and it was now fifteen minutes past one o'clock. Dan made up his mind to beard Curberry in his library, without waiting for the arrival of Queen Beelzebub, who, after all, might not arrive. His man and some willing onlookers wheeled the machine into the great shed, and the doors were about to be closed when one of the crowd uttered an exclamation, which was echoed by many others. Halliday, always on the alert for the unexpected, came quickly to the door of the building, and saw everyone looking upward and northward, to where a small black dot spotted the blue of the sky. It increased in size rapidly, and there was no difficulty in seeing that it was a flying-machine. At once a thought entered Dan's mind that there was Mrs. Jarsell on a Vincent biplane, paying her expected visit, although he had no reason to suppose that she was the pilot. Wondering if he was right or wrong in his surmise, he waited with a fast-beating heart, and became certain of the truth of his guess very shortly. Travelling at a great height, the strange biplane poised itself directly over the open space, and then began to drop slowly into the enclosed grounds of Lord Curberry's mansion. Not having field-glasses, Halliday could not make out if the pilot was a man or a woman, but, when the machine, cleverly managed, disappeared below the trees and walls of the park, he was convinced that Queen Beelzebub had arrived. At once he determined to make a third at her interview with Curberry, whatever objections might be raised. But first he arranged what to do in order to guard against future events of a dangerous nature. "Wheel my machine out again," he ordered the man and those who had assisted, "see that everything is in order, and have everything prepared to start. Do not let anyone touch this," and he tapped the aeroplane, "you understand?"