“It sure is a bad break,” agreed Ned.

As they walked toward the deserted House they heard the strange cry again.  It was louder this time, and following it the boys heard a sound as if a blow had been struck.

“Someone is being attacked!” cried Tom.  “Maybe some poor tramp has taken shelter in there and a dog is after them.  Come on, Ned, we’ve got to help!”

They started on a run for the lonely house, but while still some distance away a curious thing happened.

There was a sudden cry—­an appeal for help it seemed—­but this time in the open.  And, as Tom and Ned looked, they saw several men running from the rear of the old house.  Between them they carried an inert form,

“Something’s wrong!” exclaimed Tom, “There’s crooked work going on here, Ned.”

“You’re right!  It’s up to us to stop it!  Come on!”

But before the boys had taken half a dozen more steps they heard that which caused them great surprise.  For from a shed behind the house came the unmistakable throb and roar of a motor.

“They’re going off in an auto!” cried Ned.

“And they’re carrying someone with them!” exclaimed Tom.

By this time they had gotten to a point where they could see the shed, and what was their astonishment to see being rolled from it a big biplane.  At the sight of it Tom cried: 

“It’s the Eagle!  That’s my airship, Ned!”

“You’re right!  How did it get here?”

“That’s for us to find out.  I shouldn’t wonder, Ned, but what we’re at last on the trail of Peters and his crowd!”

The men—­there were four or five of them, Ned guessed—­now broke into a run, still carrying among them the inert form of another.  The cries for help had ceased, and it seemed as if the unfortunate one was unconscious.

A moment later, and before the boys could do anything, had they the power, the men fairly jumped aboard Tom Swift’s biggest airship.  The unconscious one was carried with them.

Then the motor was speeded up.  The roar and throbbing were almost deafening.

“Stop that!  Hold on!  That’s my machine!” yelled Tom.

He might as well have spoken to the wind.  With a rush and a roar the big Eagle shot away and upward, carrying the men and their mysterious, unconscious companion.  It was getting too dark for Tom and Ned to make out the forms or features of the strangers.

“We’re too late!” said Ned, hopelessly.

“Yes, they got away,” agreed Tom.  “Oh, if only I had my speedy little monoplane!”

“But who can they be?  How did your airship get here?  And who is that man they carried out of the house?” cried Ned.

“I don’t know the last—­maybe one of their crowd who was injured in a fight.”

“What crowd?”

“The Peters gang, of course.  Can’t you see it, Ned?”

Unable to do anything, the two youths watched the flight of the Eagle.  She did not move at her usual speed, for she was carrying too heavy a load.