A moment later, and before the boys could do anything, had they the power, the men fairly jumped aboard Tom Swift's biggest airship. The unconscious one was carried with them.
Then the motor was speeded up. The roar and throbbing were almost deafening.
"Stop that! Hold on! That's my machine!" yelled Tom.
He might as well have spoken to the wind. With a rush and a roar the big Eagle shot away and upward, carrying the men and their mysterious, unconscious companion. It was getting too dark for Tom and Ned to make out the forms or features of the strangers.
"We're too late!" said Ned, hopelessly.
"Yes, they got away," agreed Tom. "Oh, if only I had my speedy little monoplane!"
"But who can they be? How did your airship get here? And who is that man they carried out of the house?" cried Ned.
"I don't know the last--maybe one of their crowd who was injured in a fight."
"What crowd?"
"The Peters gang, of course. Can't you see it, Ned?"