It did look so, for the Gypsies were now gathering on all sides of the craft, hemming her in. As a matter of fact, even without the savage men, the Air Monarch could not have risen until the leaky radiator was repaired.
“If we could only impress them in some way!” murmured Peltok.
“I’ll impress them!” cried Tom, starting for the motor control room. “Start the land motor!” he cried to the two machinists.
“What are you going to do?” asked Ned.
“Use our wheels and roll along!” Tom answered. “I’ll plow through that bunch if they don’t get out of the way, but I think they’ll get all right. If we can’t sail through the air we’ll travel on land until we get out of the Gypsy country. Start the motor!”
There was a special machine for operating the craft when on land, and Brinkley and Hartman sprang to get this going. Peltok went to their aid, and Ned took his place beside Tom.
The Yellow Gypsies seemed about ready to make the attack, but at the sign of this activity on the strange craft they hung back. This was the very opportunity for which Tom Swift had been waiting.
“Here we go!” he cried, as he pulled the lever meshing the gears of the land wheels. The Air Monarch leaped forward, and Tom slued her around until her blunt nose pointed to the crowd where it was thinnest. “I’ll ram them!” the inventor shouted.
Some of the Yellow Gypsies seemed to understand what was going to happen and yelled to their companions to leap out of the way. But those directly in front of the craft seemed stubborn, and held their ground.
“You’ll run right over them and kill a lot, Tom!” Ned warned. “That may set them wild!”