The cries for help had ceased, and it seemed as if the unfortunate
one was unconscious.
A moment later, and before the boys could do anything, had they
the power, the men fairly jumped aboard Tom Swift's biggest
airship. The unconscious one was carried with them.
Then the motor was speeded up. The roar and throbbing were almost
deafening.
"Stop that! Hold on! That's my machine!" yelled Tom.
He might as well have spoken to the wind. With a rush and a roar
the big Eagle shot away and upward, carrying the men and their
mysterious, unconscious companion. It was getting too dark for Tom
and Ned to make out the forms or features of the strangers.
"We're too late!" said Ned, hopelessly.
"Yes, they got away," agreed Tom. "Oh, if only I had my speedy
little monoplane!"
"But who can they be? How did your airship get here? And who is
that man they carried out of the house?" cried Ned.
"I don't know the last--maybe one of their crowd who was injured
in a fight."
"What crowd?"
"The Peters gang, of course. Can't you see it, Ned?"
Unable to do anything, the two youths watched the flight of the
Eagle. She did not move at her usual speed, for she was carrying
too heavy a load.
Presently from the air overhead, and slightly behind them, the
boys heard the sound of another motor. They turned quickly.
"Look!" cried Ned.
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