“Except for a dead motor, yes,” responded the count. “I sought help. Misfortune led me to the house on that island. Ah, the banditti!”
“Who are they?” asked Ben.
“As I learned later, merciless outlaws, the proscribed of the commonwealth. There are ten of them. Immediately I was viewed with suspicion. Unfortunately I wore a star bearing secret symbols upon it—a testimonial from a foreign court where I had made an aero exhibition. These rabble took it for a badge of a detective. They refused to listen to explanations. I was chained up as a spy, the Meteor ruthlessly destroyed. Ah, the vampires!”
“They were outlaws, you say.”
“I learned from what I heard and observed that they were proscribed men with a price on their head, the terror of the district. They have defied and even held at bay the government for years. They have resisted a bombardment in their numerous fastnesses, of which the island fort is one.”
“But we found you alone.”
“Yes. It seems they anticipated a visit from the mounted police, and abandoned the island two days ago. They promised to send a person to release me after they had gotten over the border line.”
By this time the boys knew that they were over two hundred miles over the American line in a wild part of Canada. Their spirits rose as with their new comrade they talked over all kinds of aviation events, told their own experiences, and listened to some thrilling stories of the count.
At last their Indian guide led them into a regularly traversed trail. They had not followed this any great distance when a trampling sound caused them to draw aside. In a few minutes a cavalcade dashed into view—the mounted police.
There were speedy explanations. The captain of the party became immensely interested in the strange stories of the refugees. He eagerly questioned the count as to details concerning the outlaws. Then he paid full attention to the story of the Dart from Ben’s lips.