_Chapter XVII_
THE LOENING
"One thing is clear--" said Dorothy firmly--"and that is, we can't letMichael Conway be butchered by that band of cut-throats. He saved ourlives--we've got to save his."
Bill, his head in his hands, did not reply.
"If you were only in better shape so I could get those handcuffsoff--and if there weren't so many of them in the house," she went on,speaking her thoughts aloud, "one of us might be able to hold them upfrom the window while the other went round through the door and tooktheir guns away. But we can't afford to wait till you can walk alone andI can free your hands. What's to become of Mr. Conway, in the meantime?Oh, Bill, you're generally so fertile with ideas--_can't_ you think ofany thing?"
Bill lay motionless, and still did not answer.
Dorothy stooped over him.
"Bill! Bill!" she called in a tense whisper. Then, daring greatly, sheflashed her light on his face, held it there for an instant, thensnapped it off.
"Down and out, poor chap," was her summing up after a glimpse of hisclosed eyes and dead white features. "Loss of blood, probably. He'llcome round after while--but when?"
Her heart sank. For several minutes she knelt beside his quiet form,lost in thought. Then she began to act.
"Sorry, Bill, old thing, but I've got to leave you. It's the only way."Her murmured tones were muffled by the sweater she pulled over her head.Stripping free her arms, she rolled it in a ball and placed the softpillow beneath Bill's head. She gave him a little pat, then started offtoward the hill back of the house.
Dorothy crossed the field beyond the farm's overgrown orchard indarkness. It was not until she reached the woods at the foot of the hillthat she dared to snap on her flashlight.
Even with its help the climb was no sinecure. The hillside, steep as achurch roof and densely wooded, was, moreover, thick with underbrush,which hindered her progress. Rocky outcroppings and huge boulders madefrequent detours necessary.
By the time she struggled to the top she was winded and pretty well doneup. Her vitality had suffered considerably from strain and worry andviolent exercise during the course of the evening. She was quite readyto drop down and have a good cry, and to admit to herself right thenthat she was beaten. Only the knowledge that a life, possibly two, hungupon her efforts, kept her going. Stopping only long enough to tie abroken shoelace, she hurried over the crest of the hill and plunged downthe farther side.
Here, her progress became even more difficult, for she floundered into aberry patch whose thorns tore her clothing and badly scratched her faceand hands. Determinedly, she pushed her way through, gritting her teethin pain.
Presently, after several bad falls over hidden rocks and tree stumps,she found herself on a narrow, grass-grown wood road at the foot of thehill. So far as she could see, the trail wound along the middle of thevalley. But she hadn't the faintest idea in which direction lay thefield (Bill had called it a wood lot) where the _Loening_ was hidden.
Dorothy was totally at a loss. _Why_ hadn't she taken more precisedirections before tramping over here? This trail _must_ lead to the woodlot or near it. Bill said Frank had driven there in the car....
"What a fool I am!" she exclaimed suddenly to the night at large andpointed her flashlight toward the ground at her feet.
There were the tire marks of a car, plain enough. Brewster and Danburylay far to the left beyond the mouth of this valley which paralleledthat of the gang's headquarters. Therefore, Bill's car must have come upthe trail from the left. The tracks kept on up the road to her left--thewood lot must be in that direction.
As she trudged on, watching carefully for any deviation of the tiremarks, she forgot her weariness for the time being. The winding roadended and she saw an open space ahead. It must be the wood lot. Hadn'tBill said it was the only possible landing place in the valley!
Dorothy hurried across the field, through a tangle of knee-high grassesand wild flowers. She pointed her light higher now and tried to piercethe black of the night for a glimpse of the plane. Then she saw itparked at the forest's edge, directly ahead, and sprang forward with adelighted cry.
As she came close, she saw that it faced the open lot, and silentlythanked Bill for his foresight. With a plane the size of the amphibianit would have been impossible to swing round the tail unassisted.
Her preparations for this flight would probably not have met with herinstructor's approval. But knowing that time was more important thandetail, she cut them to a minimum.
A quick glance at the retractible landing gear sufficed to satisfy herthat the wheels were securely blocked. Then she sprang aboard and gavethe engine a short ground test. It was acting splendidly and she shut itoff almost directly.
A hurried trip aft to the cabin and she came back to the pilot'scockpit, dragging the plane's machine gun, which, after some trouble,she managed to set up on its tripod which she fastened to cleats in thedecking.
Certain now that the gun was secure, she adjusted the ammunition belt asBill had instructed her. Then she raced aft again and overside. When shereturned, she brought the wheel blocks with her. These she dropped inthe cabin, saw to it that the door was properly fastened, then took herplace at the controls forward.
The night was overcast and starless; the ceiling unusually low, and sofar as she could judge there was not the slightest breath of wind. Sheswitched on the plane's searchlight and started the engine.
The trees at the far end of the wood lot were uncomfortably near andhigh. Yet Bill had judged a take off from such a place to be possible,or he would never have parked there.
The big Loening was moving now--rolling drunkenly over the rough ground,yet gaining speed with every foot. She widened her throttle, steadily,fully--at the same time pushing the stick well forward. Then as theamphibian gained still more speed and she felt the tail lift clear, sheeased the stick steadily back to neutral.
They were racing over the field now. She gave the elevators a slightupward pressure. The wheels lifted clear, but the trees at the edge ofthe lot were perilously near. She knew that when a plane leaves theground its speed is not far above stalling point. And with these treesso close, to stall now would precipitate a bad crash--and failure.
Dorothy, therefore, kept the nose level for an instant or two, adangerously short instant, she feared. Back came her stick again. Theplane was climbing at last but at a frightfully precipitous angle. Wouldthey make it? Would the throbbing engine continue to function under theunaccustomed strain?
Dorothy bit her lip. She eased off slightly as the motor coughed; butpulled the stick back almost immediately.
They were abreast the treetops now.--They were over. But with a marginso small that Dorothy was certain the wheels had brushed the branches.
She eased their angle of ascent, but still continued to climb. Then whenshe was sure they were well above the crest of the hill, she leveled offand banked to the left.
Once more she leveled off and turned on the electrical mechanism whichraised the plane's landing gear.
Below her she could dimly make out the gangster's farmhouse, the lakeand the stretch of ground between them. She closed her throttle, pushingthe stick forward as she did so, and at the same time applied rightaileron and hard right rudder.
As the plane shot downward she neutralized the elevators. Then didlikewise with her ailerons as the proper bank was reached. Left aileronand hard left rudder were next applied until the wings became laterallylevel. Having completed a beautiful half spiral, Dorothy landed theamphibian on the little lake.
Her next move was an unusual one, but on it depended the success orfailure of her plan.
With the airplane headed toward the lake's low shore beyond which laythe farmhouse, she turned the switch which propelled the retractiblelanding gear downward and into the water. Then she opened the throttlefor the last time.
There came a bump and a jar. The tail tilted to a dangerous angle as theplan
e's wheels struck the shallows. Would they mire in the soft groundat the lake's edge she wondered, and cause the big bus to nose over andcrash? But no--the plane, after a sickening wrench, rolled free. Itglided over the sandy bank and on to the grass.
Shutting off her engine, Dorothy permitted her amphibian steed to cometo a stop at the porch steps, its ugly snout poked almost up to the opendoorway of the house.
Dorothy had been too busy guiding her bus to pay any attention to thereception accorded her arrival. A shot or two had been fired from theporch and she had caught a glimpse of dark figures silhouetted againstthe open doorway.
But now, as the slowing wheels struck the steps, the porch was empty.The way was clear for Mike's release. Together they would find Bill andmake a clean getaway in the amphibian. What did it matter if the gangmade their escape? Her life and the lives of her two friends were allthat counted now.
To speed the departing company she turned the Browning into action andsent half a belt of bullets whipping through the door. But Dorothy aimedhigh. She had no desire to play the part of executioner.
From her place in the cockpit she got a good view of the front room.Mike, the Scotland Yard detective, still sat bound to his chair, but theothers were streaking for the back of the house. She could see themtugging at the doors, which for some reason, seemed to give themdifficulty of exit. Huddled at the far end of the room, they clamoredand struggled to get out of range.
Dorothy stopped firing and Bill Bolton hobbled up the porch steps.
"Jumping Jupiter! girl, you're a wonder!" he applauded. "Hold theBrowning on 'em. They can't get away. I locked those doors from theoutside. Crawled through the wine cellar window to do it," he panted."Thought it might embarrass them some--but this stunt of yours makes itperfect."
He took a step forward and raised his voice.
"Stick 'em up!" he cried. "Stick 'em up--every one of you--that'sbetter. Now line up, facing the back wall--and remember--just one badbreak is all Miss Dixon wants to rip off another belt--aimed right, thistime--" he added significantly.
As the gangsters scrambled to obey his orders, Bill walked into the roomand Dorothy saw that his wrists were still handcuffed behind his back.
"Who's got the handcuff key, Mr. Conway?" he inquired.
"Johnny, I believe," returned Mike quietly.
"Johnny, have you the key?" This from Bill.
"Y-yes, I got it."
"Got a gun?"
"N-no, sir, it's on the table."
"I'll take your word for it. Throw the key over your shoulder, thenstick up your hands again."
Johnny complied with these demands, and Bill picked up the key bysitting on the floor and worming over to where it lay.
"Think you can turn this with your teeth, Mr. Scotland Yard?"
Mike nodded. Bill swung round and lifted his hands as high as his bondspermitted. The detective lowered his head and got his teeth on the key.A moment later there sounded a slight snap--and Bill was free.
"Good job!" He worked his cramped shoulders. "That certainly is arelief!"
He limped to the table, snatched a knife and a couple of seconds laterMike was on his feet. Without more ado they turned to, and roped thegangsters one by one.
Dorothy got down from the plane and came into the room.
"Who's going to stand guard while the plane goes for the police?"
"Nobody," was Bill's answer. "We'll pile the bunch in the bus and takethem to New Canaan ourselves. Gosh, there'll be some big time in thetown tonight, when we arrive!"
"This morning, you mean," yawned Dorothy. "It's getting light. And youtwo may not know it, but I could go to sleep standing up--and rightnow!"
"Brace up, kid! You're some aviatrix, even though I did train you!"
"I'll second that--" beamed Mr. Michael Conway, grasping her hand. "Ihad a splendid view through the doorway--and when that big bus hurleditself out of the water like a hippo--and began to charge the house,I--"
But Dorothy interrupted him with a shake of her head and an involuntaryglance at Bill. "All I did was to take some awful chances with Bill'sproperty, Mr. Conway."
"Ah--incidentally--saving my life, and making the capture of this gangpossible?" smiled the detective. "You're a modest young lady, indeed.But I suppose we'd better be getting along--" and with a wave of hishand, he added, "it may interest you to know that the loot is in thatkit bag under the table."
"O.K. We'll attend to that," said Bill.
Then turning to Dorothy--"I'll say you took some chances, young woman!How about getting a plane of your own to fool with from now on?"
"Oh, Bill! Do you think Daddy will let me?"
"I know he will." Bill was serious now. "After what you've done tonight,you've certainly won your wings!"
Those who have enjoyed this story will be interested in the next book ofthis series, entitled _Dorothy Dixon and the Mystery Plane_.
THE END
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