Again Helen nodded her head, and accompanied the movement with a gesture that plainly requested him to hurry. He replied in pantomime that he would be as quick as possible, then whirled and dashed through the timber.
Carl and Ferral were walking about and talking impatiently. At sight of Matt they both started toward him.
"What happened, matey?" cried Ferral. "Carl and I have been all ahoo, over here, listening to the shooting and trying to guess what was going on. Have you captured the——"
"No time to talk, pards," cried Matt, running to the air ship and beginning to make her ready. "Dick, you jump in here with me. Carl, I can't take you along. There's brisk work ahead and the Hawk must not carry any more passengers than will be necessary. Cast off one of the ropes. You cast off the other, Dick."
It was easy to tell, from Matt's manner and words, that something of vital importance was in prospect.
"I von't be in der vay, Matt," pleaded Carl, hustling with one of the mooring ropes. "I vill make meinseluf so shmall as bossiple und——"
"Two are all that can go," broke in Matt decidedly.
The engine was popping and sputtering as Carl and Ferral threw in the ropes.
"Vat's der madder, anyvay?" asked Carl, swallowing his disappointment with a wry face.
"Helen Brady is on the roof of the house. The scoundrels are below, fighting with the officers, and don't know she is on the roof. If we hurry, we can get there and rescue her."