Wheeling fiercely he flung himself on the other two men. This time he made a football rush, jerked a man’s legs from under him, and crashed his head against the ground. Before the other man could catch him he bounded to his feet, and struck him a vicious blow under the chin. The man toppled like a tenpin.
All this time the man he had punched in the stomach was doubled up groaning. Now he lifted his head, and straightened up. But before he could advance Epworth bounced forward, leaped into the open door of the Greyhound, and dropped into the aviator’s seat, panting from his violent exertion.
The next second the Greyhound was spluttering loudly and taxying across the rocky ground. If the engine would pick up a little safety was in sight.
It did. After popping loudly for several seconds it purred down and the Greyhound lifted its wheels from the ground.
At this moment a huge giant stepped out of the most pretentious house in the place. In his hand he held a light machine gun. Leveling it at the Greyhound he began to shoot. There were three propellers, and one by one, with uncanny aim, the giant disabled the blades and just as escape seemed at hand the airship staggered, slumped like a wounded bird, and struck the ground with powerful impact.
Joan, seeing inevitable fall, braced herself with her feet, and escaped with a slight jar.
Epworth, in a vain attempt to lift the nose of the ship upward, was hurled against the cowling with a force that knocked him unconscious.
CHAPTER VI
A Dangerous Scientist
Julian Epworth returned to consciousness on a luxurious day bed in a pleasant plastered room tinted a light green. For several moments he did not comprehend. Presently he put his hand up to his head, and found a bandage.
“Just what happened?” he asked curiously, not expecting a reply.