By that time the Hawk was almost over the boys' heads. The rope, of course, was dragging far out behind, and the trailing part of it bid fair to pass the car well on the right.
"Hello, there!" shouted the man at the rail of the Hawk, leaning far over and making a trumpet out of his hands.
He seemed to be excited, for some cause or other.
"Hello yourseluf, vonce!" called back the Dutch boy. "Keep a leedle off mit your rope—ve don'd vand it to make some drouples for us."
"The air-ship's out of control," the man shouted. "We can't stop the motor and the ship's running away! Grab the rope, hitch it to your automobile and tow us back to South Chicago. We'll give you a hundred dollars for your trouble. Be quick!"
"I like his nerf, I don't t'ink!" growled Carl. "He vants to run off mit us und der pubble, und——"
"We can tow the air-ship, all right," cried Matt, "providing we can get the rope fast to the automobile. We'll have to take a half hitch with the trailing end of the rope around a tree, and bring the air-ship to a stop."
Matt started for the rope. As he bent down to lay hold of it, the car gave a lurch sideways and the rope was whisked out of his hands and was thrown directly against Carl's feet.
Carl grabbed it. At the same moment the air-ship took an upward leap, on account of the weight which Carl had taken off the car. This leap flung Carl into the air. He turned a frog-like somersault, hands and feet sprawled out, and came down with a thump, flat on his back.
"Whoosh!" he yelled, a good deal more startled than hurt, sitting up on the grass and shaking his fist at the bobbing craft overhead, "you dit dot on burpose! Vat's der madder mit you, anyvay? Vat for——"