Don, flying in, kept his engine droning, settling toward the water.
It seemed to both Don and Garry that their “Demon” was all but a prisoner.
Garry cut out the switch, allowing the boat to drive close.
“Give up!” he shouted, to be heard above the noise of Don’s approach from the air. “We’ve got you.”
The disguised creature gave a shout of defiance, threw his gears for the revolution that would wake the helicopter engine to life.
“It’s no use!” Garry cried, as Don, perceiving the slow turn of the helicopter’s upper blades as they were rapidly adjusted, lifted the nose and, instead of coming onto the water, stayed aloft, waiting, ready to frustrate any effort to climb away.
Garry’s hand clutched the pontoon braces.
Up he leaped, clinging.
Don saw, in the vivid light, the unexpected thing that happened.
Into the water, on the far side of the helicopter, away from Garry, plunged the queer creature.