"By Jove! I'd like to have the chance," exclaimed Peter. "But if we are virtually prisoners, what can we do in the matter? Supposing you struck--refused point-blank to do another stroke, could the Rioguayans carry on building aircraft?" "Unfortunately, yes," admitted Brian Strong. "As matters stand, they have a numerous fleet of fast flying-boats, capable of operating in a radius of two thousand miles. They can rise almost vertically in a twenty miles an hour breeze and hover without the aid of helicopters--never did think much of helicopters, Peter; that's power wrongly applied and consequently wasteful. With four engines, each of 850 horse-power, they are unsurpassed for speed by any other aircraft in existence. Their all-steel planes and armour-plated hull are practically invulnerable to shrapnel, and only a direct hit could put them out of action. And their means of offence is highly formidable: liquid-air torpedoes. They aren't my invention, thank heaven. Now, you ask, what can we do? I'll tell you. Do you remember that almost my first question to you on your arrival was, 'can you fly?' or words to that effect." "And you also said, 'That's a pity, because I wanted to bring you down '," said Peter. "You thought it a strange thing for me to say?" "I thought it was a joke on your part, Uncle." "It wasn't," declared Brian Strong. "I was in sober earnest. Having perfected the Rioguayan air fleet, I now want to undo the results of my handiwork. And I think I've solved the problem. I have constructed a secret anti-aircraft device. The Rioguayan mechanics think it is a searchlight apparatus, and I let them go on thinking. Now, I want to put it to a practical test. Since I can't fly and be on the ground at the same time, I had to look out for an assistant. Obviously, a Rioguayan pilot wouldn't do. To-morrow I'll show you the device, but what I want you to do is to learn to fly. It's simple and quite safe with my design. You'll pick it up in a couple of weeks. Then I want you to go up. I'll manipulate the ground apparatus and see if I can compel you to make a forced landing. There'll be little or no risk, as far as you are concerned. Are you game?" CHAPTER VI The Super Flying-boat Peter Corbold was usually a sound sleeper with an easy conscience, but his first night ashore in Rioguay was a restless one. He had had a tiring day, followed by the disturbing influence of finding himself in utterly strange surroundings; while as a climax came Uncle Brian's lengthy and amazing disclosures.