Chapter XIV: A Desperate Chance

Once more the girl was plunged into despair.

"We'll have to give up," she whispered, tearfully. "We have tried hard, but luck is against us. For several minutes we have been traveling over ground I know nothing about. When I saw that open stretch of swamp, my heart failed me and I fell off the firm ground. You see what a horrible place this is, Matt!"

"Isn't there any way to get around to the other side of the island?" he asked.

"Yes, we could have done that, but I was trying to take you as far as I could toward the other edge of the swamp."

"We'll have to give that up, now, and work our way around the island."

"In going back," faltered the girl, "we may meet dad and Grove!"

"We must take the chance," he answered; "there's nothing else for it."

"And in going around the island," proceeded the girl, dejectedly, "we may meet some of the others who are looking for us."

"That's another risk we will have to run. Come on," he continued, picking up the bag. "I'll lead the way back."

"You've got a way about you," said Helen, "that gives a person courage."

"A fellow would be a pretty poor stick," returned Matt, "who couldn't keep his nerve with a girl like you to help him."

Helen's dress was torn by the bushes, and her hands and face were scratched and bleeding; but she seemed to mind her physical discomforts very little, so eager was she to have Matt's escape prove successful.

Listening intently for any sounds made by Brady and Grove, Matt and the girl started back over the course they had recently covered.

They had not gone far when the sounds they feared came to them. As they stood together and listened, they could hear Brady and Grove talking back and forth. Their voices, and the crashing of the bushes, were growing rapidly in volume, and proved that they were coming closer.

The girl began to tremble. Matt pressed her hand reassuringly. Off to the right of the course they had been following his quick eye detected a foothold among the matted bushes. He pointed it out to his companion.

"Get there, quick!" he whispered.

She leaped for the spot at once, and he was not slow in following her. Then, crouching down, they peered through the thicket.

Brady came jumping into sight, clutching a revolver in his hand.

"I'm positive I heard something ahead, Grove!" he cried.

"It must be King, then," answered Grove, floundering along in the rear. "He's been makin' a better hike of it through this blasted swamp than I ever thought he could."

"There's an open stretch farther along," went on Brady, grimly. "That'll stop him, and we'll have him in a few minutes."

Brady leaped out of sight, and Grove likewise jumped past and vanished.

The girl had scarcely breathed while the two men were so close to them.

"Now we've got a chance," whispered Matt. "While they're going on toward that open part of the swamp, we'll get back toward the island and double around it."

"We won't have to go far, now," rejoined the girl, her hopes rising, "before we can turn to the right and start around the island."

Matt continued to lead the way back, making the best time he possibly could. When the girl called softly to him, he stopped.

"Here's where we turn," said she. "I'd better go ahead from now on."

He waited for her to gain his side, then followed as she continued to make her way onward through the bewildering tangle. Time and again Matt, if alone, would have lost his bearings, but Helen, being on familiar ground, was never for one moment at a loss.

Their one fear now was that they should encounter some of the others who were searching, but they heard nothing to cause them the slightest uneasiness.

At last, after half an hour of tiring work, Helen drew to a halt.

"We're about opposite the place where the air-ship is moored," said she.

"That's where we want to be," answered Matt. "Make for the edge of the island, Helen, as close to the air-ship as you can get."

Once more the girl started off. The bushes thinned perceptibly as they came closer and closer to the solid ground. This rendered the going easier, and it also enabled Matt and the girl to make less noise in getting through the undergrowth. In nearing the island they redoubled their caution, and when they finally reached a spot from which they could look out and take in the situation in the vicinity of the "roost" and the air-ship, they congratulated themselves on the care they had exercised.

They were not more than a dozen feet from the place where the Hawk was secured.

Two rifles were leaning against the car, and two of the men--Grove and Needham--were sitting on the ground, occasionally looking aloft.

Brady, Whipple and Pete were no where in sight.

"We must have crippled that air-ship of Jerrold's pretty badly," Needham was saying. "If King hadn't made this delay for us, the Hawk would have been well away on her first trip."

"That kid is a slippery customer," growled Grove. "The old man is riled for fair over the way he's cuttin' up."

"What's the use o' botherin' with him? The thing to do is to cut out o' this an' leave King in the swamp."

"I reckon Brady'd do that, if it wasn't for the bag of loot King seems to have taken along with him."

Both men had thrown off their hats, and Grove was nursing a number of scratches on his face and hands.

"We had a rough time of it," said he, "an' the old man sent me back to find out if any of the rest had had any success. If King had been found, I was to fire a signal-shot with one of the rifles."

"Hang the luck, anyhow!" snorted Needham. "It was the worst thing Brady ever done when he tangled up with King. The lad has a will of his own, an' I knew well enough he'd never take hold an' help us out runnin' the motor."

"King has got more backbone than any fellow of his age I ever saw, and that's a fact. The girl must have helped him. And that's another place where Brady has been lame, all along. He ought to have sent the girl away, somewhere. She hasn't got any business hanging out with a gang like this."

While Matt had been watching and listening, he had been turning over several plans in his mind. Here was a chance, albeit a desperate one, for getting hold of the air-ship.

He turned to the girl.

"Helen," he whispered, "I'm going to see if I can't capture the Hawk."

"You can't," she returned, fearfully. "Grove and Needham are armed and--and they'll shoot."

"They can't shoot if I get hold of those rifles first," went on Matt, still speaking in guarded tones.

"How will you do that?"

"Their backs are toward us. I'll creep as close to the Hawk as I can, then, if they hear me, as they probably will, I'll make a rush for the guns."

The girl was silent for a moment.

"There's nothing else to be done," she whispered, at last. "Count on me, Matt, to do whatever I can to help."

"You keep back, Helen," he counseled. "If I succeed in getting the guns, I won't need your help; if I don't, your help would do little good. Here I go."

Slowly and cautiously Matt crept out of the bushes. The car of the air-ship was between him and the men, and this served to screen him, up to a certain point; but the two rifles were leaning against the opposite side of the car, and in order to lay hold of them he would either have to go around the long framework, or else cross the car. He made up his mind to take the latter course.

Without being discovered, he managed to reach the side of the car; then, just as he was rising to step over the rail, Needham caught sight of him.

With a wild yell Needham gained his feet. The yell brought Grove up like a shot. For an instant, the two rascals were paralyzed by the unexpected appearance of Matt. Their moment of inaction afforded the young motorist just the opportunity he needed.

Flinging himself into the car, and across it, he snatched the rifles away from the rail, just as the hands of Grove and Needham were outstretched to take them.

One of the weapons he flung behind him.

"Nail him!" cried Grove; "down him, before he gets a chance to shoot!"

Needham, no less than Grove, realized the necessity of capturing Matt. Matt, however, had no intention of using the remaining rifle on either of the two men; neither did he have it in mind to let them get away, or rough-handle him.

As the two rushed forward, Matt flung the rifle to his shoulder, and his gray eye sparkled menacingly along the barrel.

"Keep off!" he warned, swaying the muzzle of the gun back and forth so as to keep both men under it; "keep away from me and stand right where you are! I mean business, right from the drop of the hat, and you fellows might as well understand it."