The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 176: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

162 wing, Plunkett balanced amidships and covering the pilot with his revolver. As he slipped swiftly away into space the hardware drummer gave vent to a wheezy, taunting laugh. “Tf he gets that time-ball,” cried the panic-stricken Lumley, “ he'll destroy it. He doesn't know, he doesn’t un- derstand—” “We've got to overhaul him!” ex- claimed Kinch. “ Where's another fly- ing-machine? I say, there, Jernyng- ham! We've got to have another ma- chine.” Jernyngham was hauling a red flag to the top of a short staff. “Tm signaling for a municipal flier,” said he. “ Ah, ha! there's one now, heading this way.” The municipal machine, which paid a license to the air-ship department and was for hire, rounded gracefully to a pause above the roof and then set- tled down into the stays. Kinch and Lumley ran up the steps and clambered aboard. | “Follow that craft!’? shouted Kinch, pointing south toward the other air- ship. The pilot started his helicopters; and then, when they were swinging well over the roof; turned on the pro- ellers. “ We'll double-cross this little game of Plunkett’s,’’ declared the detective, with grim determination. ‘ By what process of reasoning has he convinced himself that he can get that time-ball, anyhow? Why, he’s plain crazy, there is no doubt of that.” “He’s plain troublesome, Jasper,” returned Lumley, “and he seems to have a way of doing the wrong thing with a good deal of success. ‘ Plun- kett, the avenger,’ is surely an appro- priate name for him. I have awful forebodings that he is on the point of doing something rash — something that will result in a tremendous catas- trophe.” “You forget,’ frowned Kinch, “that Plunkett is matching wits with me.” Thereupon he broke off the conver- THE ARGOSY. sation, gave attention to the chase, and urged the driver to crowd on more power. CHAPTER XV. FRESH DIFFICULTIES. Two things were evident to those in the municipal flier. One was that the driver was doing everything possible to get the best speed out of the ma- chine, and the other was that they were barely holding their own in the chase. “We're overloaded,” said the driver. “You're a man of the period,” cried Kinch fiercely, “and on peril of your life tell me the truth: Are you for or against the dictators? Is there any reason for you to keep this air-ship back? ”’ The driver shivered under the dead- ly menace of the detective’s voice and look. “I’ve no quarrel with the dictators,” he whimpered. “If I had, why should I hold this machine back? The man we're chasing is one of your crowd. I tell you, sir, we’re overloaded.” Kinch appeared convinced of the driver’s sincerity. Never slow in ma- king up his mind, he had planned the next step before the pilot had done speaking. — “Hover over that roof, ahead there,” he ordered, pointing. “ Stop, but don’t land. Come to a standstill two or three feet above the landing- stage.”’ “Very well, sir.” “Sorry, Lumley,” said Kinch, “ but the craft is overloaded, and you'll have to drop out on that roof and wait until I finish the chase and come back and pick you up. But be sure and wait. All of our crowd must be got together, and kept together. I'll bag Plunkett, and we'll halt his troublesome career by keeping him bound and under lock and key. By lightening ship we shall be able to overhaul the craft ahead.” Lumley was disappointed, but he had the utmost confidence in Kinch, CoOMmicbook CO