He uttered an imprecation, and leaping lightly into the middle ship called to his men as he did so. Then hauling out his revolver, he made another leap which landed him in front of Van Arsdale. As he landed, he tore off his mask and goggles and stripped off the heavy leather coat.
“Ye lyin’, stealin’, murderin’ villain!” he shouted. “I won’t defile me new pistol on ye! Fight! Fight, can ye? Fer I’m goin’ to slay ye wit’ me own hands!”
As he made a lunge for Van Arsdale, the man attempted to shoot, but the weapon was dashed from his hand.
This much Lawrence saw, then he found there was something else for him to do besides watch the maddened O’Brien rushing his snaky adversary, as the balloon almost imperceptibly settled into the fog. The machine he was in was reeling around as the wheel turned and the rudder swung to and fro. Lawrence trued it and lashed the wheel. Then he shouted an order to Hank and Bill who were on the point of following their leader with their new guns in hand. Hank sprang for the wheel with an order to Ollie. Quickly the dirigible rounded the bow of the middle ship, and dipping a little, lashed fast to the sinking balloon and held it steady. Hank drew a bead on Brown, still clinging to the ropes on the side of the gas bag, and ordered him down. In the meantime, Lawrence was ripping the gags out of the mouths of the two men but he could not free them as the anklets and handcuffs were locked on, and he did not know where to look for the key. He tried only for a moment, for Mr. Ridgeway claimed his attention. Dashing some water over his set and pallid face, he was relieved to see the eyelids quiver, and a broken sigh well up from the sunken chest.
His friend and benefactor would live!
Panting cries and gurgles sounded from the collapsed dirigible, and Lawrence looked over upon a terrific encounter. Both Van Arsdale and O’Brien were large men, O’Brien stocky and full muscled, Van Arsdale built pantherlike and slim.
Van Arsdale fought with the surprise that one so low as a mere detective should raise a hand against him and with a furious resolve to punish, mangle and kill his opponent.
But something deadlier, colder and deeper stirred in O’Brien’s blood. He remembered his own death sentence on the lips of this man now delivered into his hands. He could hear the smooth voice say, “It will not be painful, only for half an hour, O’Brien!” O’Brien wondered as he lunged out at his enemy, delivering slashing blows, he wondered how many men and boys and indeed women had gone down to death by his hand or by his orders.
Hank, clinging to the ropes and trying to watch Brown as he came slowly down, saw the conflict out of the corner of his eye, and muttered, “Some folks has all the luck! I bet one of ’em get killed!”
As O’Brien delivered a terrific blow and Van Arsdale reeled back against the rail, O’Brien looked him in the eye.