“What a mob!” cried Ned as hundreds of the Gypsies rushed toward the airship, which was all ready to leave.
Tom tried to increase his speed to take off before the angry and savage warriors could approach, but the motors were cold and not running at their best.
“Ram them!” advised Ned, and it seemed to be the only thing to do. Some would, undoubtedly, be killed when the craft crushed its way through them, but she might soon rise above them and all would be well, save that they would probably send a volley of shots after the travelers.
Tom had about decided to do this, terrible as it seemed, when Peltok, who was looking from a rear window cried:
“Here they come! Here they come to the rescue!”
“Who?” asked Ned.
“The forest patrol—like your state police. They’ll scatter these Yellow Gypsies!”
Then all those in the airship saw a squad of Persian mounted men sweeping across the plain toward them. This squad at once opened fire on the horde that sought to stay Tom Swift in his world flight.
CHAPTER XVII
KILBORN'S TRICK
“Now you will see a fight!” cried Peltok. “I know those Yellow Gypsies and I know the Persian forest rangers. You will see a pretty fight.”