The darky’s head struck him full in the stomach.
“Wow-ow-ough!” yelled Barney, with pain and anger. “Be me sowl, yez have kilt me for shure!”
“I teach yo’ to play such tricks on me, yo’ no ‘count I’shman!” yelled the darky, furiously making another rush.
Barney was not quick enough to get out of the way, and this time Pomp butted him clean over the rail of the air-ship.
The distance to the ground was not ten feet, and Barney was not hurt by the fall.
But the disclosure that the fall made was a startling one.
Barney felt some yielding form beneath him, and a sharp yell went up.
The Celt rolled over and was upon his feet instantly, but only in time to find himself surrounded by dark forms.
In the gloom he could not see who these were. But instinctively the thought of an enemy came to him.
“Whurroo!” he yelled, making a break through the throng, “Phwat the divil has broke loose? Get out av me way, yez omadhouns!”