DARING WORK.
When Matt had got outside the iron fence and just within the screen of
timber, he turned. Helen Brady, bareheaded and plainly just from the
interior of the house, stood at the edge of the roof, following Matt
with her eyes.
Matt waved his cap to her, and this was the first intimation the girl
had had that she was seen. She fluttered her hand in response and then
stretched out both arms appealingly.
Matt nodded his head vigorously, to signify that her appeal was
understood, and that it would be answered; then he pointed through the
woods in the direction of the air ship. Helen turned her head to look
in the direction indicated.
From her elevated position she must have been able to see the gas bag
of the Hawk over or through the tops of the trees. Looking back to
Matt, she waved one hand and nodded.
Matt placed a finger on his lips and waved toward the house in an
endeavor to make the girl understand that she must be very careful, so
as not to let her captors know where she was.
Again Helen nodded her head, and accompanied the movement with a
gesture that plainly requested him to hurry. He replied in pantomime
that he would be as quick as possible, then whirled and dashed through
the timber.
Carl and Ferral were walking about and talking impatiently. At sight of
Matt they both started toward him.
"What happened, matey?" cried Ferral. "Carl and I have been all ahoo,
over here, listening to the shooting and trying to guess what was going
on. Have you captured the----"
"No time to talk, pards," cried Matt, running to the air ship and
beginning to make her ready. "Dick, you jump in here with me. Carl, I
can't take you along. There's brisk work ahead and the Hawk must not
carry any more passengers than will be necessary. Cast off one of the
ropes. You cast off the other, Dick."
It was easy to tell, from Matt's manner and words, that something of
vital importance was in prospect.
"I von't be in der vay, Matt," pleaded Carl, hustling with one of the
mooring ropes. "I vill make meinseluf so shmall as bossiple und----"
"Two are all that can go," broke in Matt decidedly.
The engine was popping and sputtering as Carl and Ferral threw in the
ropes.
"Vat's der madder, anyvay?" asked Carl, swallowing his disappointment
with a wry face.
"Helen Brady is on the roof of the house. The scoundrels are below,
fighting with the officers, and don't know she is on the roof. If we
hurry, we can get there and rescue her."
While Matt was talking, Ferral had got into the car. Matt switched the
power into the propeller shaft and the Hawk glided upward. When the car
cleared the tops of the trees, Matt brought the air ship to a level.
"Look sharp, Dick," called Matt, his face set and determined. "We've
got to win out, this time. If we don't, there's no telling what will
happen to the girl. Whipple has already threatened her, in case the
officers don't leave the house. Can you see Miss Brady?"
Matt's position, in the rear of the car, rendered it impossible for him
to see much of what lay ahead.
"There she is, matey!" cried Ferral. "She sees us coming. There's an
open skylight in the roof which shows how she got to the top of the
house."
"Any of the men on the roof?"
"No."
"Good! How are we headed?"
"Just right. Hold to the course as you are."
"Are we high enough?"
"Plenty."
"It won't do to hit the edge of the roof, you know, and if we're too
high, we may skim clear over the house before we can drop down."
"Just as you are now, Matt, you'll come over the building three or four
feet in the clear. There's a chimney, and if you can drop beside that,
I'll stand ready to take a twist of the mooring rope about it. The
wind's freshening, and if there isn't something to hold to we're liable
to be blown off the roof before we can get the girl aboard."
"You take care of that part of it. Steer me so as to come onto the roof
close to the chimney."
It was necessary for Matt to hurry, yet he could not drive the Hawk
ahead swiftly because of the necessity of making a quick halt on the
comparatively small space of the roof top.
Harris, Burton, and Sanders had been keeping up a brisk fire ever since
Matt had left to go for the air ship. None of them seemed to be looking
up or paying any attention to what Matt and Ferral were doing. This, of
course, was for the purpose of keeping the presence of the air ship a
secret from those in the house.
But, in some way, the secret got out. Abruptly the fire from the house
slackened, and then ceased altogether. As Matt shut off the power and
glided over the edge of the roof, he caught a glimpse of Whipple's
astounded face in a second-story window which had not been boarded up.
When the air ship vanished over the edge of the house top, Whipple
disappeared from the window.
"They're onto you, Matt!" roared Harris, from below. "You'll have to
hurry, if you win. From the sounds we hear, everybody is climbing for
the roof."
Matt and Ferral remained perfectly cool. The situation was a ticklish
one, and if their labors were crowned with success they would have to
keep their heads and not make any misplays.
Ferral stood at the edge of the car, holding a loop of one of the
mooring ropes in his hands.
"Turn her, mate!" he cried.
The power having already been shut off, the Hawk was proceeding only
under the headway given by the now dormant motor.
This was sufficient not only to turn her, but also to carry her
downward so that the bottom of the car swept the roof.
As they passed one of the chimneys, Ferral dropped the loop of the rope
over its top, and laid back. His pull halted the air ship.
In a twinkling, Matt was over the rail and standing beside the car. He
held out his hand to the girl, and she ran toward him, with a cry of
joy and thankfulness.
At that precise moment, Matt, out of the tails of his eyes, saw a head
appearing through the open skylight. Grasping Helen's arm, he hurried
her toward the air ship.
"Step lively, mate!" cried Dick, as Matt assisted the girl into the car.
No matter how swiftly Matt hurried, it was certain that the man coming
through the skylight would reach the roof in time to interfere with the
two boys before they could get away.
Matt realized that, and so did Ferral. The man, who was now
head-and-shoulders above the roof top, was Whipple, the most desperate
member of the gang.
Whipple, who was undoubtedly amazed to see Helen all but rescued when,
quite likely, he supposed her safe in some room below, gave a bellow of
rage and fury.
"That'll do you, King!" he roared. "Ye're not goin' ter hike off with
the girl in any such way as this!"
Leaning against the side of the opening, Whipple rested his elbows on
the roof and took careful aim at Motor Matt with his revolver. Others
were flocking toward the roof on the stairway below Whipple, but he
blocked the way.
Matt and Helen were in the car, and it seemed certain that Whipple's
shot was to be effective, he was taking so much care to get a good aim.
But the shot was not fired, principally because Ferral became suddenly
active.
Seizing a loosened brick from the top of the chimney, the young sailor
hurled it with all his force. Whipple was struck in the shoulder, and
the impact of the missile hurled him from his foothold and down upon
those under him. As he vanished from the skylight, a clamor of startled
voices came back through the opening, accompanied by a clatter of men
falling down the stairs.
"That's something I owe you, Dick," remarked Matt, settling into his
chair among the levers.
"You don't owe me anything, old ship," answered Ferral. "I'll have to
do something like that several times before you and I come on anything
like an easy bow-line. But take care of the ship, or she'll founder."
In order to grab the brick from the chimney, and throw it, Ferral, had
to let go of the rope by means of which he was holding the Hawk against
the wind. With the rope loosened, the uncontrolled air ship drifted
off the roof and was bobbing around, some fifty feet above ground, the
sport of the breeze. There was imminent danger of her coming to grief,
either against the cupola of the stable, or in the tops of the trees.
Swiftly Matt got the motor to going, and as the Hawk took the push of
the propeller, she once more became manageable. This was in the nick of
time, too, for as the craft glided upward the bottom of the car rustled
through the branches of one of the trees.
"Hurrah!" cheered Harris, from below. "Well done, Motor Matt!"
"Bully boy!" applauded Sanders.
"Never saw anything neater!" whooped Burton.
"Go back to where you were before," called Harris, his voice faint in
the distance, "and wait till we finish this job. It won't be long, now,
till we get the scoundrels."
"Sink me," muttered Ferral, breathing hard, "those officers don't
know how well we did. They couldn't see the top of the house from the
ground, and they didn't know Whipple was looking at us over the end of
a gun."
"Matt," said Helen, in a quivering voice, "I don't know how I ever can
repay you for what you've done, or----"
"Repay us!" cried Ferral. "Why, Miss Brady, I guess you're forgetting
what you've done for Matt and me."
"It's a big relief, Helen," said Matt, "to get you out of the clutches
of that gang. It's the best stroke of work the Hawk ever did."
"Right-o," agreed Ferral enthusiastically, "and it was right and proper
that the craft, manned by us, should save Miss Brady. If it hadn't been
for her, we wouldn't have had the Hawk. Oh, this is a pretty square old
world, after all. Don't you think so, old ship?"