"Look!" cried Quentin.
He pointed to three of the four projectiles which were visible from where we lay. They were glowing strangely with intense light. A jagged beam of electricity leaped out from the airship. Instantly iridescent shafts of light spread from the nearest projectile to the ones on either side of it. The shafts made a flashing display, crooked, forked and darting.
"Lightning bolts!" exclaimed Cragley. "We're surrounded by a fence of them!"
"Penned in—like rats in a trap!"
"What will they do now?"
"Hard to tell. Probably pick us off one by one at their leisure. They seem to be going to a lot of unnecessary trouble for no reason at all."
Three sharp blasts of sound issued from the outlaw ship. A pause, and then followed three more. I watched Cragley to see what action, if any, he would take. He seemed undecided. I began to grow uneasy.
"Not a chance of breaking through that screen of electricity," said Quentin. "They got us right where they want to keep us."
"But why?"
Quentin shook his head. "If it was just the platinum, they could destroy every one of us, then come in here and take it."