Chapter XV: The Capture of Pete and Whipple

There was one big advantage the Hawk had over the automobile, and it was presently to make itself manifest to all in the air ship. The road which the fleeing robbers had taken was a very rough one, and a few moments after they had been sighted by those in the Hawk, Whipple and Pete turned into another road, which ran at right angles with the one along which they had first started.

"They're not headed for La Grange, that's a cinch," commented Burton.

"They're looking for better going," said Harris, "but that road they've taken is rougher than the one they just left."

"When they get to the end of the second road," went on Burton, "they'll be on a turnpike, with a bed like asphalt. Then, if something about the automobile doesn't break, it will be good-by to our hopes of----"

"What are you doing, Matt?" asked Harris suddenly.

Matt had shifted the course of the Hawk.

"I've just realized what an advantage we have over the automobile," laughed the young motorist. "Roads don't bother us any, and fences, hills, and swamps don't exist for us. I'm cutting off a corner, Harris. If the going on that cross road is as rough as I think it is, we'll overhaul the automobile."

"Fine!" cried Harris, clapping his hands.

"Nodding can shtop a air ship ven it vants to go some blace," grinned Carl.

"Nothing but the wind," said Matt. "We've got a good, smart breeze right behind us, and we're making every bit of thirty miles an hour. Hear the motor! It runs as sweet as any machine I ever heard. But how did those fellows come to give you the slip like they did, Harris? They must have had to leave the house and get to the garage before they could make a run with the automobile."

"Well," grunted Harris, "they did all of that. We made a bobble, that's all. After you got away with the girl, Burton and I concluded to rush things to a finish. With that end in view, we carried that stick of cordwood around in front and smashed in the front door. Then we rushed into the house. We heard some one running up the stairs, so we chased after, and finally found ourselves in the top story. There was no one there, except a hag of a woman, stupefied with drink, in one of the rooms.

"The skylight was open, and Burton and I bounded up, thinking our men had taken to the roof. But there was only one man on the roof, and that was Hooligan. He had made all that noise just to get us to follow him. He surrendered, and while he was doing it, Burton and I looked down and saw Pete and Whipple hopping around and getting that automobile out of the garage. They were out of pistol range, and it didn't take Burton and me more than a minute to understand that we had been lured to the roof in order to give Whipple and Pete a chance to save their bacon.

"We ran down and out at the kitchen door. There we stumbled over Sanders, tied hand and foot and lying on his woodpile. The two scoundrels had paid him their respects to that extent. Leaving Sanders, we rushed around the house, and saw the automobile spinning through the gate. Then we went after the Hawk, on the run. We're coming close to that other road, Matt," Harris added excitedly, "and Pete and Whipple haven't seen us, yet. They're pounding the life out of that car! I hope to thunder they don't wreck it. The road is awful."

The crossroad was rifled with ruts and "thank-ye-ma'ms." Over these the automobile was lurching and swaying, and not making more than fifteen or twenty miles an hour.

The Hawk came over the road almost directly above the motor car.

"Halt!" roared Harris, leaning from the rail and aiming his revolver downward. "You're at the end of your rope, Whipple, you and Pete, and you might as well surrender. If you don't, we'll shoot."

Both scoundrels looked upward, and both, as might be expected, began to swear. Pete continued looking up, but Whipple recklessly threw on more speed.

The automobile jumped forward like a horse suddenly lashed. At the same moment the wheels on one side went down into a deep rut, and Pete, whose eyes were still aloft, was hurled over the side as though from a catapult. He landed on head and shoulders close to the roadside fence, and, instead of getting up, he straightened out and lay quiet.

"He's killed!" cried Burton.

"Don't you believe it," answered Harris. "He's too tough to be killed by a fall like that. Drop lower, Matt," the officer added to the young motorist, "and let Burton get out and take care of Pete. After that, we'll go on in pursuit of Whipple."

It took about two minutes to land Burton. Pete was still lying prone and silent as the La Grange man rushed toward him. While the Hawk was rising and forging onward after the automobile, those aboard her saw Burton raise himself upon completing a swift examination of Pete. Burton waved a hand reassuringly, then dropped the hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"I was sure Pete was all right," said Harris, turning his eyes ahead. "That was an easy capture for Burton--an easier one than I think we'll have."

"Vell," observed Carl, "I don'd know aboudt dot. Der pubble is acting oop mit itseluf. It has shtopped, und Vipple iss like some crazy mans, drying to make it go."

What Carl had said was the truth. Directly ahead, the automobile was at a complete standstill, with Whipple pulling and hauling frantically at the levers.

"Now we'll land him!" exulted Harris. "Straight ahead, Matt."

Whipple, despairing of getting the car into usable condition, suddenly sprang into the road and started for the fence. He was climbing the fence, when Matt shut off the power and halted about twenty feet over his head. Harris' revolver was trained full on the fugitive.

"Now, then," yelled the officer, "either give up or take the consequences."

"It's your play," answered Whipple, turning around and sitting on the top board.

"Throw your six-shooter into the road!" ordered Harris.

Whipple jerked the gun from his pocket and cast it from him, with a hoarse laugh.

"It ain't any good," said he. "There ain't a loaded shell in the cylinder, an' no more ter put in. If it hadn't been fer that, Harris, I wouldn't have come so easy. I could have slammed a bullet inter the machinery o' that air ship an' put it out o' the runnin'."

"I thought it was queer," remarked Harris, "that Pete or Whipple didn't use their revolvers. Get down closer to the ground, Matt. Better tie up to the fence, for I'd like to have you take a look at the automobile and see what's the matter with it."

Carl helped in the landing so that Harris could give his entire attention to Whipple. All of them breathed easier when they heard a pair of handcuffs snap around Whipple's wrists.

The air ship was moored so the wind could not drive the gas bag against anything in the road, and Matt went forward to the automobile. After a few moments' examination, he turned away with a laugh.

"She's badly shaken up, isn't she?" inquired Harris anxiously.

"Doesn't seem to be, Harris," replied Matt. "She has stood the rough handling she has had remarkably well."

"I don't know much about drivin' a car," admitted Whipple, "an' ye can bet I was puttin' her through fer all she was worth. I was certain nothin' had busted, an' I couldn't understand what made her stop."

"The gasoline tank was empty," said Matt. "You can't run a motor without fuel."

"Hang it all!" snorted Whipple, "an' there was a bar'l o' the stuff right there in Caspar's garage!"

"You were in too big a hurry to get away to make any use of the gasoline supply," said Harris.

"It wasn't that. I jest didn't know enough, that's all, an' this is how I'm payin' fer my ignorance."

"We'd have captured you, anyway, Whipple," declared Harris.

"Well, ye wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been fer King an' the Hawk. He's busted up Brady an' all his gang, an' it's a good thing fer him the darbies are on my hands this minute."

"I'll take Whipple back to where we left Burton and Pete, Matt," said Harris, "and if we can get a supply of gasoline from some farmhouse, we'll hike for South Chicago in the automobile."

"I can help you out, Harris," answered Matt. "I've an extra supply of gasoline in the air ship. Wait a minute and I'll get you ready for the trip home."

In a few moments Matt had strained enough gasoline into the motor car's tank to carry her a hundred miles. After that, he and Carl waited for Harris to get into the car with his prisoner and start back toward the place where Burton and Pete had been left. The automobile moved off with everything working perfectly.

"I'll see you in South Chicago, Matt," Harris called over his shoulder. "We mustn't forget poor Sanders, either."

"We haven't any balloon house to go to now," Matt answered, "so we can't stay in South Chicago very long."

"Dot vinds oop der whole game, bard," remarked Carl. "Vipple und Pete vas der vorst oof der olt gang, nexdt to Prady, und dey vas now down und oudt. Miss Prady has likevise peen rescued, und eferyt'ing iss lofely und ve can now go on mit ourselufs py New York."

"We'll have to go somewhere," said Matt. "An air ship is something of a white elephant when you haven't a proper place in which to keep it. This wind is increasing, and the sky is clouding up. Looks like a storm, to me, and we'd better hurry and pick up Carl and Miss Brady and make a run for South Chicago."

The sky certainly looked threatening, and the boys made haste to get the Hawk in the air and to head her back toward the Caspar mansion. They had a hard struggle, for the wind was dead against them, and they could make scarcely more than five miles an hour. Getting Ferral and Helen aboard the car was ticklish business, because of the increasing wind, but it was finally accomplished and the Hawk scooted away toward South Chicago.