“That was a tight squeeze,” gasped Hiram Dobbs.
“We’re safe—grand!” cried the relieved Elmer.
The man they had rescued shrank back as the Comet arose like some great bird. Just then the loud brazen notes of an alarm bell sounded out. Then some shouts followed the speeding biplane. Leaving a vast turmoil behind them, the airship boys glided off into space, over the city, past its outer walls, making straight west for the haven of safety Dave had in view.
The young airmen did not attempt to converse with the rescued Deane. The latter, thin, pale and weak, was overcome with the excitement of the past few minutes. He sat like one in a daze, staring in marvelling wonder at the receding landscape. He made no move when Elmer belted him into the seat. He could not yet realize his removal from the wretched post of servitude which he had lately filled.
It was a lucky thing for our hero that Ben Mahanond Adasse had given him explicit directions as to the trading post fifty miles away from Lhassa, where Adrianoffski had another partner. It saved time and enabled a direct route, and two hours later the Comet descended to the ground in an open space behind a warehouse on the edge of a native settlement.
“Look after our friend and keep a sharp lookout,” Dave directed his assistants, and left the machine and walked around to the front of the building nearby.
There were no lights or signs of habitation about the place. The young aviator seized a weighted cord suspended from a hook near the entrance to the building. He swung this time and again against the door.
A gleam of light soon showed, and the door was unbarred. A man wearing a fez appeared, a suspicious blink in his sleepy eyes. He stared challengingly at the disturber.
“You are Talzk Prevola?” inquired our hero, at once.
“An English!” exclaimed the man. “I am he whom you bespeak. But what of you?”