“All right,” Jim gulped hastily. In a moment the brothers had disappeared in the shadows, and Austin, gun in one hand, Mrs. Gonzalas’ wrist grasped firmly in the other, proceeded as cautiously as a pair of panthers. Step by step they went, slowly drawing nearer to the machine and no warning whistle reached their ears. They had nearly reached it when Jim paused to listen. He thought he heard a twig break, but only the sighing of the wind broke the silence of the night. Glancing over his shoulder he watched, but nothing stirred, then they took another step.
“Mother of God watch over us,” the woman prayed, scarcely above her breath and the words gave Jim a new sense of confidence.
“When we get to the fuselage I’ll boost you on. Be as quiet as you can, and drop into the cock-pit without raising up if you possibly can,” he whispered, for all of a sudden Jim had a life-sized hunch that Cardow would have someone watching the plane.
“God guard you,” the woman answered. Like a pair of shadows they advanced and reached the end of the wing; step by step they took, only a few inches at a time, until they were beside the body of the plane. Jim stooped and cupped his hand and Mrs. Gonzalas put her foot into it. Carefully he raised her as she braced, then she gave a spring and drew herself upward. Again Jim paused and listened, with gun in hand, then he leaped up beside the woman, who was sliding into the forward cock-pit. In a moment he ducked low and switched on the smallest dial light, which was just sufficient to read the control board.
“Keep down,” he told her quietly, but his heart was beating like a trip hammer. He made his calculations swiftly, listening the while for the approach of the brothers, or the warning whistle of danger. He was mighty thankful that the climate was mild and that the engine would not require a lot of warming up. He set everything possible while he waited, then he heard swift steps and glancing to the right, he saw Arto running. A second later the man sprang on the front of the machine, and at the same time, there came the warning whistle.
Mechanically Jim gave her the gun and flashed on the lights, which revealed Pedro, a bit to the left, racing toward them. Then out of the darkness into the light leaped the ugly forms of Joe and Carp who were close on their victim. The plane moved forward.
“My husband, they will kill him,” the woman shrieked, but her brother-in-law had thrown himself flat across the plane, his arms outstretched as they rolled forward.
A series of shots spat from the guns of Carp and Joe, but Pedro leaped, the plane lunged sidewise, and just before she lifted from the ground, Arto caught his brother’s hands and held them tight. Then, to Jim’s horror, Mrs. Gonzalas was over the rim of the cock-pit, her body thrown against Arto’s to help him hold his precious burden. Up the plane climbed, and as she soared, Austin got a rope from the equipment box and looped the end. One hand on the stick, the young Texan shot the lasso forward and low, then with a deft twist he brought it up, pulled it tight, and taking an instant to glance over the side, he sighed with relief when he found that it was really around Pedro’s waist. Jim tied the other end to one of the braces, then gave his undivided attention to flying, for the acrobatic stunts and the uneven distribution of the weight were making the machine climb crazily. In a few minutes he had her well under control, and a bit later, Mrs. Gonzalas, her face pale with fright, slid back to her seat. Presently Arto too climbed over the cock-pit, his lips set, and behind the pilot, he assisted his brother to safety. In a little while the pair of them were in the rear cock-pit, and all was well, for the enemy was far behind.
When they had started, Jim had intended to turn away from the direction of the basin, but he had not been able to accomplish this at once, so he was beyond the ledge where the gang had hidden before he could set her course, so now he shot straight ahead. Occasionally he glanced back for a sight of the machine which would surely take after them, and once, for an instant, he shut off the motor. They were in the air all right, so the boy climbed high and quickly, his lights doused; then he did a wide circle back hoping to get on the tails of his pursuers. As he spiraled he drove through a thick cloud bank which spread its shelter about them, but the air got biting cold, and the boy was afraid the woman beside him would suffer. She wore a man’s suit and a coat, but he wasn’t sure how warm she was.
“Keep low,” he urged her, so she slid forward in the seat. Then he remembered that the De Castros always carried extra coats under the pilot’s seat, so he fished them out, and proceeded to wrap her up warmly, just as he and Bob wrapped Mrs. Austin when she joined them in an air joy-ride.