Van Arsdale looked. Slowly, very slowly, the big bag was collapsing.
CHAPTER XIII
With an execration Van Arsdale fired. But in the second that it took to aim at the grinning lad, Lawrence had disappeared. Lying flat on the floor, he wriggled over toward the wheel which he found lashed in position. The ship, drifting about, commenced to wobble. Second by second Lawrence waited for the shots that would put the bag above him in a worse condition than the one he had just fixed. He could not doubt that they were doomed. He knew very well that even when offering them a chance for life Van Arsdale had fully intended to let them get away and then shoot up the ship and drown them all. But now he could see through the open slat left for sweeping off the deck that Van Arsdale was trying to keep the dirigible up until reinforcements should come. And in a minute or two Lawrence knew by the sound of the engine they would hail them.
Many thoughts passed through his mind as he lay there waiting to hear the first shot clip through the billowing silk above him.
His first thought was a heart-breaking one. He would never know his own people, never feel the touch of his mother’s soft and loving cheek against his own! Bitterly he regretted that he had not told Mr. Ridgeway the whole thing.
He could not make himself believe that Mr. Ridgeway too was doomed. He wanted Mr. Ridgeway or someone to take a message to the dear ones he so longed for. He wanted them to know that the son so long lost loved them and had built his young life out of the best he had, for their sakes. Mr. Ridgeway lay motionless, and the roar of the approaching engine sounded loud in Lawrence’s ears. In a moment he heard it close in on the other side of their dirigible and shouts sounded. Unable to withstand his curiosity, Lawrence popped his head above the bulwark and witnessed a most amazing thing.
As the newcomer broke through the fog and swung to the left, a burly figure hanging over the bulwark swept the tableau through his goggles. It was astonishing enough. On the right was the big dirigible with the punctured gas bag struggling with all the might of its powerful engine to keep in the air.
Brown had already mounted the network and was trying to stop the leak.
At the wheel stood Smith, a smile frozen on his face as he swept his eyes over the newcomers. Even with all their coats and wrappings, he knew that John and the others were not there.
The newcomer saw the figure of Mr. Ridgeway lying in the bottom of the ship nearest; he saw the boy wigwag frantically from the bottom; he saw the two bound and gagged mechanicians.