"Yes, one hundred thousand pounds. 'You'll lose it all,' I told him, or rather, I intimated that as politely as was possible. 'You'll never succeed. I'm so positive, that if you do, and build a ship which can sail round the world, all within nine months of this, why, I'll pay the bill.'" "Bravo!" cried Mr. Veldtheim. "Your money's safe. Zeppelins aren't built in nine months, even by those who know all about 'em." That seemed to be the general opinion of the company present. In fact, one and all looking at the matter from their own point of view considered that Andrew Provost had been guilty of a species of madness. "Better by far hand his nephew a handsome cheque and have done with the matter," observed Mr. Veldtheim. "It'd be easier and cheaper." But, as we have intimated already, Andrew Provost was made of stubborn material. Also, he had seen sufficient of Joe during their travels on the Continent since his coming from Canada to assure him that he was not overstocked with confidence. Or rather, to assure him that he was a clever, painstaking fellow, who seldom declared his powers, but who, when induced to do so, never overshot the mark. Consequently, when he said that Mr. Reitberg was misinformed, Andrew Provost believed him. But a statement was one thing; hard facts another. "Just get to and read that agreement between Reitberg and myself," he said again. "Then tell me all about this ship of yours. Recollect, I've never seen it, nor heard of it either." "Pardon, you've heard of it," said Joe shortly. "Eh, heard of it? Come!" "A year ago. There was a scare in England," Joe reminded him. "There was even an airship scare in Germany. The papers were full of reports. Brilliant lights had been seen in the sky. The noise of aerial motors was heard. It was feared in England that a foreign spy was manoeuvring over our magazines and arsenals." Andrew looked sharply at his nephew over the rim of his cup. "Airship scare? Yes, I remember; the papers in Canada were full of it--well?" "That was my ship. People said that a mistake had been made; that folks had imagined the ship. They said the same in Germany. But it wasn't imagination: it was a real ship, the one I had built." "And--and what became of it?" gasped Andrew--for this was news--"Why didn't you sell it to the War Office authorities?" Joe smiled. "War Office authorities! Know 'em?" he asked. "Never met them--why?" "They're too slow for words," declared Joe, laughing. "I'll tell you about them. I went there, to the War Office. I got lost in the place, it's so vast and has such huge lengths of corridor. And I'm inclined to believe that the folks who work there get lost. Anyway, they couldn't for an hour or more direct me to the department likely to have some knowledge of airships. But I reached it at last and told my tale." "Ah! You got home. Then, what happened! They sent right off to investigate."