As the craft went higher and higher his enthusiasm grew. He was not the least afraid, but then Sheriff Durkin was accounted a nervy individual under all circumstances.
"Lay her a little off to the left," the officer advised Tom who was at the steering wheel. "The main camp is right over there. How long before we will reach it?"
"We can get there in about fifteen minutes, if we run at top speed," answered the lad, his hand on the switch that controlled the motor. "Shall we?"
"No use burning up the air. Besides, my men have hardly had time to surround the camp. It's in deep woods. If I were you I'd get right over it, and then rise up out of sight so they can't see you. Then, when it's noon you can go down, I'll fire the signal and the fun will commence—that is, fun for us, but not so much for those chaps, I fancy," and the sheriff smiled grimly.
The sheriff's plan was voted a good one, and, accordingly, the ship, after nearing a spot about over the camp, was sent a mile or two into the air, hovering as nearly as possible over one spot.
Shortly before twelve, the sheriff having seen to the weapons he brought with him, gave the signal to descend. Down shot the Red Cloud dropping swiftly when the gas was allowed to escape from the red container, and also urged toward the earth by the deflected rudder.
"Are you all ready?" cried the sheriff, looking at his watch.
"All ready," replied Mr. Sharp.
"Then here goes," went on the officer, drawing his revolver, and firing two shots in quick succession.
Two shots from the woods below answered him. Faster dropped the Red Cloud toward the camp of the criminals.