ishment 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,
