There was a rush of feet and the boy came bounding out of the darkness.
“Got lost in the shuffle!” he gasped.
“That’s all right,” shouted Mr. Chadwick, grabbing him; “in with you, boy, quick!”
In tumbled Tom, half climbing and half-dragged. He lay on the floor in a panting heap, while Jack swiftly raised the panels. This time they worked, and they found out afterward that the temporary sticking that had proved so disastrous was caused by the expansion of the metal in the hot sun.
He was not an instant too soon. Hardly had the plates clanged together with a metallic clash before the savages were on them. Captain Sprowl opened a port in the “whaleback” superstructure and poured out a murderous fire on the Indians before he could be checked.
“Warm work!” he cried, pumping away at the mechanism of the rifle.
From without, came yells and screams. Spears, darts and stones crashed against the machine as if they would smash it to atoms. But in the midst of the turmoil the fugitives felt a sudden upward lurch. So sudden was it that they were all hurled into a heap. But they cared but little for that. The Wondership was going up, bearing them aloft to safety!
As she shot upward, her machinery whirring bravely above the yells and confusion below, Captain Sprowl turned to the others.
“A good Yankee cheer, boys!” he said.
In the deafening din that followed, the professor’s voice was heard ringing out as loudly as any of them. It was the professor, too, who cried out at the conclusion: