“Come on now, I got you!” interrupted the voice of Koku out on the after deck, and there was a series of thumps that told when he had lifted the men over the rail, and set them down.

“All saved!” cried the giant at last.

“Then cut the rope!” shouted Tom.  “We’ve got to get out of this, for it’s growing worse!”

There was the sound of a hatchet blow, and the airship shot upward.  Into the cabin came the dripping figures of the other men, and Ned, as he stood by the great searchlight, felt a wave of wonder sweep over him as he listened to the voices of the first man and woman.

He knew he had heard them before, and, when he listened to the remark about a rescue by airship, in Africa, a flood of memory came to him.

“Can it be possible that these are the same missionaries whom Tom and I rescued from the red pygmies?” he murmured.  “I must get a look at them.”

“Our boat, it is gone I suppose,” remarked one of the other men, coming into the motor room.

“I’m afraid so,” answered Ned, as he played the light on the doomed craft.  Even as he did so he saw a great wave engulf her, and, a moment later she sank.  “She’s gone,” he said softly.

“Too bad!” exclaimed the man.  “She was a fine little craft.  But how in the world did you happen along to rescue us?  Whose airship is this?”

“Tom Swift’s,” answered Ned, and, at the sound of the name the woman uttered a cry, as she rushed into the motor room.

“Tom Swift!” she exclaimed.  “Where is he?  Oh, can it be possible that it is the same Tom Swift that rescued us in Africa?”

“I think it is, Mrs. Illingway,” spoke Ned quietly, for he now recognized the missionary, though he wondered what she and her husband were doing so far from the Dark Continent.

“Oh, I know you—­you’re Ned Newton—­Tom’s chum!  Oh, I am so glad!  Where is Tom?”

“In the pilot house.  He’ll be here in a moment.”

Tom came in at that juncture, having set the automatic steering geer to take the ship on her homeward course.

“Are they all saved?” he asked, looking at the little group of persons who had climbed up from the motor boat.  “Mr. Damon, you had better make some hot coffee.  Koku, you help.  I—­”

“Tom Swift!” cried out Mr. and Mrs. Illingway together, as they made a rush for the young inventor.  “Don’t you know us?”

To say that Tom was surprised at this, would be putting it mildly.  He had to lean up against the side of the cabin for support.

“Mrs. Illingway!” he gasped.  “You here—­were you in that boat?”

“Yes. it’s all very simple.  My husband and I are on a vacation for a year.  We got fever and had to leave Africa.  We are staying with friends at a resort on the lake shore.  These are our friends,” she went on, introducing the other gentlemen.

“We went out for a trip in the motor boat,” the missionary continued, “but we went too far.  Our motor broke down, we could get no help, and the storm came up.  We thought we were doomed, until we saw your lights.  I guessed it was a balloon, or some sort of an airship, and we whistled; and called for help.  Then you rescued us!  Oh, it is almost too wonderful to believe.  It is a good thing I have practiced athletics or I never could have climbed that rope.”