The Boy Aviators' Treasure Quest - Part 28
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Part 28

The man at the lanyard of the dirigible's gun, who looked like Sanborn, bent low over the weapon once more and adjusted it carefully for a second shot, the helmsman of the air-ship at the same time swinging her so that she would be on a direct line with the Golden Eagle.

Frank watched his every movement with a hawk-like intensity. Just as Sanborn stepped back, lanyard in hand, to fire a second shot, Frank dived like a sea-gull sweeping down on a fish and the missile whistled harmlessly overhead.

At the same instant Ben Stubbs, unable to restrain himself any longer, s.n.a.t.c.hed a rifle from one of the lockers and aimed at the pilot-house of Luther Barr's craft.

A shower of splinters flew from the casing of a porthole as his bullet struck, but no further harm was done.

The aeroplane was now far below the dirigible, which was soaring at a height of two thousand feet. At such an angle it was impossible for those on board to use their rapid-fire gun, and Frank, setting the Golden Eagle's rising planes, soared rapidly along at an elevation of about two hundred feet.

By the time the men on the dirigible had got her round, the Golden Eagle was two miles ahead of the gas-suspended craft.

"We've escaped them," cried Harry.

"Not yet," said Frank; "don't holler till you are out of the woods.

They know now we've got the treasure and they are not going to give up the chase as easily as all this."

From time to time the dirigible, which was not gaining on the Golden Eagle, fired a shot from her forward gun, but the dipping, scudding aeroplane afforded a poor mark and, moreover, the deck of a dirigible at full speed is not the steadiest place in the world. So after a few attempts more to wing the swift aeroplane, the crew of the dirigible gave the effort up and turned all their attention to getting every ounce of speed out of their craft. With sinking hearts the boys realized that she was gaining on them.

Hour after hour, above the gla.s.sy Sarga.s.so Sea, the battle went on, the aeroplane ducking and diving and gliding and skimming whenever the dirigible got a good chance to send a fatal projectile into her.

From time to time, also, Ben got a chance to send a bullet crashing into the dirigible's gas-bag, and from the actions of the men aboard her they were evidently badly worried by this. However, as Ben knew, the gas-bag of the dirigible was constructed in sections and the gas manufactured by Constantio was so buoyant that if even one section remained intact it would still serve to sustain the dirigible in the air.

But no fight of such a character can endure long. Sooner or later one or the other of the combatants is bound to succ.u.mb, and so it was in this case.

Just as Frank was making a dive to avoid, for the twentieth time, getting within range of the dirigible's gun, a skillfully aimed projectile came crashing through the Golden Eagle's gasolene tank. The fluid poured out in a flood.

A few minutes later the engines ceased to revolve and the aeroplane was compelled to descend, Frank driving her down in a long arc that brought her to the surface of the water without accident.

Crippled as she was, the Golden Eagle could not be set going again without repairs that would take hours.

In the meantime their opponents had taken advantage of the aeroplane's plight to riddle her wings with bullets.

Brave as the boys were, they were not foolhardy.

Ten minutes after the fatal accident to the tank, Ben Stubbs, with bitter protests, waved a white shirt in token that the occupants of the Golden Eagle were driven to surrender.

CHAPTER XXII.

ON BOARD BARR'S SHIP.

"Do you surrender?" shouted a voice through a megaphone from the dirigible as it hovered above the stricken aeroplane.

"Yes, hornswoggle you," roared Ben Stubbs, "but if it hadn't been for that gas-bag of yours you'd never have got us, and I can lick any man aboard yer with my fists or any other weapon."

Luther Barr's men paid no attention to this outburst and the boys were too sick at heart at the complete failure of their venture even to hear Ben's words. Frank choked back his tears with difficulty and Harry gazed straight out over the sea.

It was defeat final and complete.

"Make fast the ladder and we'll board you," was the next hail as a trap in the under side of the dirigible was opened and a long rope ladder came snaking down.

Ben, although he would cheerfully have slashed it to bits with his sea knife, had no recourse but to make the end of the apparatus fast to the Golden Eagle's framework, and a few seconds later Malvoise came rapidly down it. To guard against any attack on him the men on the dirigible leaned over the rail and kept their rifles covering the boys and Ben.

"Hum, you saved us the trouble of packing up the treasure, I see,"

said Malvoise, his eyes sparkling as they fell on the sacks of treasure.

"If we'd only fixed you last night when you was in the air over the galleon we'd have done a good job," growled old Ben.

"Ah, you think so," grinned the Frenchman. "I don't doubt that it feels bad to be the conquered, but you must not grudge us the treasure, my dear Mr. Stubbs--"

The sneer on his face was unbearable and Ben started forward to fall upon him, but as he did so a bullet from above zipped down, narrowly missing his arm. In fact, it ploughed through his loose shirt-sleeve.

"You see, I am well protected," grinned the Frenchman, as Ben started back.

"Yes, I reckon we've got to give in with as good a grace as we can,"

grumbled Ben; "though I'd give all the treasure in them sacks to get my hands on you for just five minutes," he muttered to himself.

"Let down a tackle there, you," shouted Malvoise to the crew of the dirigible, "and you, Sanborn, come down aboard here. We must get the treasure on board before it starts to blow at all."

Sanborn came hastily scrambling down the ladder, and a few seconds later a block and tackle were lowered. Malvoise and Sanborn, who greeted the boys with a scowling sneer, first deprived the boys of their weapons and forced Ben to give up his revolver and then made fast the block and tackle to the first of the treasure sacks.

It was rapidly hauled up to the dirigible; the other treasure bags followed in the same manner. In half an hour the Golden Eagle was swept clean of the contents of the galleon's chests which the boys had loaded on her with such light hearts.

"Now, then, I guess we are all ready for a start," said Malvoise, when the last of the sacks had been hauled into the dirigible's cabin. "As a matter of fact," he went on, "I suppose I ought to leave you here, as you only will make a lot more weight in the air-ship, but I am more humane than that and I'll allow you to come on board. Up the ladder with you, and briskly now."

Ben went first, followed by the two boys; behind them came Malvoise.

"Come on, Sanborn," shouted the Frenchman to his companion, who still lingered on board the aeroplane.

"Wait a minute. I've got a job to do first. I want to sink the thing for all time," cried the other.

The boys, who had by this time gained the swaying deck of the dirigible, saw the treacherous mechanic deliberately draw a pistol and prepare to fire a hole in the pontoons, which would inevitably have sunk the gallant craft.

But as his finger pressed the trigger the man's foot slipped and he was dumped off the pontoon into the water.

His companions, far from being alarmed, shouted with laughter at his mishap, as Sanborn, cursing, prepared to climb back on to the Golden Eagle. But even as the oaths left his lips a change came over his face. It turned an ashen gray.

"Help!" he shouted.

"What's the matter?" roared Malvoise.

"Something is after me!" came the agonized cry of the man.

As the words left his lips a cry of horror broke from all on the dirigible's deck who were watching Sanborn's struggles.