A DARING ESCAPE.
The menace of the steady gray eye and the swaying gun muzzle were
enough for Grove and Needham.
"Here's a go!" growled Needham, casting a yearning look around him toward
the timber.
"I'm going to make a 'go' of it, all right," averred Matt, grimly, "no
two ways about that. What are you doing with your right hand, Needham?"
Needham's hand had wandered toward his hip. Matt was watching both
scoundrels so sharply that not a move they made escaped him.
Needham brought his hand around in front of him.
"What are you trying to do, King?" queried Grove, evidently seeking
to gain time and give Brady, Pete or Whipple a chance to come on the
scene.
"I'm trying to get away from this place," replied Matt, "and I've not
much time to waste in talk. I guess you know that fully as well as I
do."
Still keeping the rifle trained on the two men, he climbed out of the
car to the ground.
"Now," he went on, "I'll tell you fellows what you're to do, and then
we'll be able to work quicker. You will both get into the car, and get
in together so that I can cover you more easily with this one gun.
Needham will then place his back against the upright timber that helps
suspend the car from the hoop--and mind you take the timber farthest
from the driver's seat. On the bottom of the car there's a coil of
small rope. With that, Grove will tie Needham to the upright. Is that
clear?"
"Why, what the blazes----" began Grove, but Matt cut him short.
"There's no time for talk, I tell you!" he called, sharply. "Brady and
the other two may show up here, and I'm going to have this work done
before that happens."
"But----"
"Get into the car!"
Matt's finger flexed ever so slightly upon the trigger of the gun. The
watchful eyes of Grove and Needham detected the movement and both made
haste to tumble into the car.
"I'd give a farm to know what you've got up your sleeve," growled
Needham, as he backed slowly against the upright timber.
"Move more quickly," warned Matt, "or you'll find what I've got in this
gun. I used to be in Arizona, and I know how they deal with matters of
this sort down there. They're not in the habit of wasting so many words
as I'm doing. Pick up that rope, Grove," he added, "and get busy with
it. Mind you tie hard knots! No fast-and-loose plays at this stage of
the game."
Grove was a bit languid in his operations, and as he worked he gave
more attention to the quarters from which Brady, Pete and Whipple might
be expected than he did to the tying of Needham.
"Grove," called Matt, sternly, "I'm not going to bother much more with
you! Move faster, and pass some of that rope around Needham's arms. I
don't want his hands left free. Pull the coils tighter."
After a fashion, Grove got his comrade tied.
"Will that do you?" he demanded, gruffly, turning to glare at Matt.
"That will answer. Now turn your back to Needham's."
"Say, by thunder I'm not going to stand for----"
"_Turn your back!_"
Matt shoved the muzzle of the rifle toward Grove's breast, and the man
made haste to place himself against the upright piece of the car's
framework.
It was Matt's intention, then, to drop the rifle and proceed with the
tying of Grove himself, but the girl suddenly appeared and climbed into
the car.
"I'll do the rest, Matt," said she, picking up the loose end of the
rope.
Matt had planned to have the girl remain in the thicket, taking no part
in his operations; but she had different ideas.
Grove and Needham both glared at the girl.
"The old man will make you sorry for this!" fumed Grove.
"I expect he will," replied the girl. "He has made me sorry for a lot
of things lately."
Around and around the bodies of the two men Helen coiled the rope.
Then, when she had come to the end of it, she made it fast with a knot.
Pausing a moment after she had finished, she drew a revolver out of
Needham's hip-pocket and dropped it on the driver's seat.
"You had better have that in your own hands, Matt," said she, quietly.
"It will be easier to handle than the rifle."
"Don't get out of the car, Helen," called Matt, as the girl was about
to climb over the rail. "You can't stay here after this."
"I can and I must."
Her resolve to remain with her father was unshaken; but there was
a bright light in her eyes which Matt had not seen there before.
Evidently the success that was attending Matt's plans to get away with
the air-ship had lifted a grievous load from her spirits.
Walking around the car, Helen picked up the bag which they had taken
with them into the swamp.
"This must go with you, Matt," she continued, pushing the bag under the
driver's seat, "along with the rest of the stuff piled up on the ground
there."
While she was on that side of the car she cast off the mooring-rope and
flung it into the air-ship.
Matt dropped the rifle and released the rope on the other side.
The Hawk was now in readiness to take to flight. With nothing to hold
it, the gas-bag began to feel the effects of the wind that was blowing
and to move about in answer to the faint gusts. But it rode on an even
keel, for its buoyancy had to be accelerated by the propeller before it
would rise, or could be maneuvered.
The girl had started toward the bags, heaped up on the ground. Before
she could reach them, however, a loud yell from the opposite side of
the island caused her to halt in consternation.
"Dad!" she cried, wildly; "he's coming!"
"Brady! This way, quick!"
The clamoring whoops went up from Needham and Grove as they struggled
fiercely to free themselves.
Matt, seeing that there was not an instant to be lost, leaped into the
car and tilted the steering-rudder at an angle which would carry the
air-ship upward.
"Come along!" he shouted to the girl as he started the engine. "Get
into the car, Helen!"
"Hurry, hurry!" screamed the girl, running directly away from the car
and in the direction of Brady and Pete, who were making for the Hawk at
a run.
A pang of regret ran through Matt at the thought of leaving Helen Brady
behind to bear the brunt of her father's anger; but there was no time
for argument. He started the propeller, and the Hawk began to move up
the airy incline toward the tops of the trees that walled in the edge
of the "island."
The struggles of Matt's two prisoners became desperately frantic. So
violently did they wrestle with their bonds that the car tipped and
swayed dangerously. Matt had no time to give to them, just then, being
wholly wrapped up in the maneuvering of the Hawk.
He gave the rudder a further tilt, throwing the air-ship to an angle
that caused Grove's feet to slip from under him, so that only the
support of the rope and the upright held him to his place.
"Shoot!" he bellowed. "Why don't you blaze away at him, Brady?"
Brady had evidently held his fire, hoping to get the air-ship back
without injury; and, even now, as his rifle and Pete's began to crack
murderously, the target of their bullets was Matt.
Two or three of the leaden spheres zipped past Matt's head, missing
him by the narrowest of margins. Strangely enough, however, Matt was
more worried about the harm the bullets might do the gas-bag, or the
machinery, than he was about any damage they might do him.
Faster and faster he speeded up the engine, and the Hawk raced toward
the clouds. She cleared the tops of the trees, gained the clear sky,
and, at a height of five hundred feet, was brought to an even keel.
Then, and not till then, did Matt venture a look below. He was just in
time to catch one fleeting glimpse of those he had left behind on the
"island." What he saw aroused his anger and indignation.
Helen, still true to her resolve to help Matt, had seized hold of her
father's rifle and was struggling to keep him from using it. The minute
figures were strangely clear, and Matt saw Brady lift his fist and
strike the girl down. Then the tops of the trees interposed and cut off
the unpleasant sight. Matt faced about, a steely glint in his gray eyes.
"Here's a fine lay out!" Grove was clamoring, far gone with chagrin
and baffled rage. "One kid, single-handed, captures two of us and runs
off with the air-ship, right under the noses of Brady and the rest!
Oh, well, we're entitled to all we get out of this. We don't deserve
anything better."
"You'll get something more than you expect," said Matt, picking up the
revolver and pushing it into his pocket, "if you don't stop squirming
around like that. It's hard to steer when you're rocking the car in
such a fashion. You fellows are my prisoners, so make the best of it."
"Yes," growled Grove, "and us two aeronauts will have a fine tale to
tell when you take us where you're going to. You've stolen this car.
That'll cook your goose for you."
"Brady," answered Matt, "can have his air-ship back whenever he wants
to show up and claim it."
There followed a brief silence, during which Matt noted that the wind
was brisk, and from the north, and exulted over the speed the Hawk
developed in the teeth of it.
Needham was first to break the silence.
"If I had my hat, and was able," said he, craning his head around to
get a look at Matt, "I'd take it off to you."
The lad in the driver's seat made no response. He was hurrying toward
South Chicago.
Where was the Eagle? The skies in every direction were clear and the
other air-ship was nowhere to be seen.
Motor Matt, as he drove the air-ship steadily against the wind, kept
close watch of the captured aeronauts.