Out of the wood dashed a young man and ran straight for the machine at headlong speed, but he was not Bohunkus Johnson!
CHAPTER XIII.
SCIENCE WINS.
Clever as was Harvey Hamilton, and skilfully as he had played the game, he was outwitted at last, for the individual who rushed toward him was his enemy Bill, and he carried a loaded gun.
Not only that, but after him hurried one, two, three, four others, ready to back up their leader. One of them carried a deadly weapon. Bohunkus Johnson was nowhere in sight.
No wonder the young aviator was dumfounded for the moment. He was still seated, with his hands grasping the levers, but he was too wise to try to flee, with that gun commanding him and the holder of it in the mood to use it. In a twinkling, the grinning Bill was at his side and laid his free hand upon one of the propeller blades.
“Shall I start the thing humming agin?” he asked with grim irony.
Harvey’s wits flashed back to him.
“Wait till I do my part,” he replied, as if the slightest misunderstanding had not come between them.
As he spoke, he stepped on the ground and drew out his pocket book, while the five stood expectantly around, all not understanding what the action meant.
“I was so afraid we might have some accident with that gun,” he remarked, observing the damaged weapon in the hands of one of the party; “that I broke the hammers; you can get them fixed at a gunsmith’s for a dollar, so I guess that will about make it right.”