“Get close to Meyer and disarm him when I give the signal. Tell Broughton to do the same to Somers—knock him on the head if necessary. I’ll get Hayden, and then the three of us can heave him in the back cockpit and get in before that gang up there can get their guns. I don’t believe any of them carry revolvers.”
Hinkley grinned delightedly.
“Fast work, partner,” he breathed.
The three were standing quietly, talking in low tones, when Hinkley and Broughton came up.
“Well, good-by,” said Graves, extending his hand to Hayden. Broughton and Hinkley watched him closely.
His fist shot up like a flash of light, carrying all his weight with it. The big man fell like an ox. At the same time the two flyers leaped in, revolvers in hand, and crashed the butts down on the heads of their respective victims. It was such a complete surprize that the ruse was funny in its effectiveness.
Somers and Meyer were disarmed in a trice. Before the astonished henchmen of Hayden had recovered from their surprize and covered half the distance between the cabin and the ship the three government men had heaved the unconscious Hayden into the rear cockpit and were scrambling forward over the bomb compartment.
Without waiting for belts to be adjusted Broughton jammed on both throttles. Bullets sang close to them; the gang had held their fire at first for fear of hitting Hayden, and now the bomb compartment shielded the flyers completely. Their heads did not show above it.
By the time the marksmen had realized this and had veered to go around the wing the ship was in motion. For a few seconds two men wrenched at the rudders in a mad effort to disable the plane, but the sturdy controls held. Then the Martin was moving so fast that the men had to let go.
For twenty-five yards Broughton ruddered the ship straight down the slope. It was extremely steep there, and the heavy ship picked up speed amazingly. Then Jim swung it slightly to the left, to get the benefit of the extra yards that would give him.