CHAPTER XIV.
THE OAK OPENING.
Reid's Lake was a popular resort, and a large crowd rendezvoused thereon Sundays and holidays. The coming of the crowd, however, had shiftedto the beginning of the day, so that the start of the a?roplane mightbe witnessed.
Owing to Burton's enterprise, an "extra" of one of the evening dailieswas on the Grand Rapids streets at nine in the evening, announcing, inlarge type, that Boss Burton, regretting the disappointment caused theGrand Rapids people because of the failure of the a?roplane ascensionson the first day of the show, was glad to announce that the king of themotor boys would take his famous machine aloft on the following morningat nine o'clock.
This was one of the little things Burton could do, on occasion, whichjarred on Matt's nerves. He made it appear in the news columns asthough Matt was making the ascension because Burton had so willed it,and as though the showman had willed it because of the disappointmentwhich had been caused the Great Rapids people on the first day of theshow.
When Matt discovered this, it was too late to remedy it. He had thesatisfaction, however, of telling Burton just what he thought.
Extra cars were put on the run between town and the lake to accommodatethe crowds. And the people came not only in the street cars, but alsoin carriages, wagons, and automobiles.
Carl and Ping had slept under the lower wings of the _Comet_, as wastheir usual custom when the weather was at all propitious, and tothe casual observer it would have looked as though the Roman-candleincident had been entirely forgotten.
Matt was early at the machine, looking it over carefully and makingsure that everything was in readiness. The _Comet_, he found, had neverbeen in better trim for work than she was that morning.
Then, too, such a day for a?roplane flying could not have beensurpassed. There was not enough wind stirring to flutter the banners onthe tent tops.
It was necessary for McGlory, Twomley, and Burton to get away somewhatin advance of Matt, and to take up a position beyond the outskirts ofthe city on the Elgin road. At sharp eight-forty-five the motor cargot away.
McGlory was usually in charge of the start during the a?roplaneflights, but now Matt placed Carl in command. The importance of theposition filled Carl with glory, and was correspondingly depressing toPing, who really knew more about the a?roplane than Carl could havelearned in a hundred years.
Carl and Ping were assisted by half a dozen stout canvasmen.
Before Matt took his seat, to the wonder of the crowd pressing againstthe guard ropes, he shook out a white robe and arranged it about him insuch a manner as to leave his arms perfectly clear, but covering everypart of his clothing.
After that he stepped on the footboard and dropped down in front of themotor.
The canvasmen, divided by Carl into two groups of three each, wereplaced behind the wings.
"All ready, Carl!" called Matt.
"Retty it iss!" shouted Carl.
The motor started merrily, the bicycle wheels began to turn, and thecanvasmen to push.
Slowly the _Comet_ gathered headway. Faster and faster it went, leavingthe canvasmen behind; then, like a great bird, it soared into the air,followed by wild cheering.
A vagrant puff of wind struck the planes, just over the concert garden,and only quick work on the part of the intrepid young motorist averteda disaster. Gathering headway under the impetus of the thrashingpropeller, the a?roplane darted upward into the blue and began reachingout toward the city.
Matt, while manipulating the a?roplane, had little time for sights andscenes below him. He was obliged to keep every faculty riveted on hiswork. Now and again, however, as he took his bearings and laid hiscourse, he glimpsed the staring people in the roadways and on rooftops.Some of these spectators had opera glasses and binoculars.
Over the flat roofs of the city he whirled, cheered almost continuously.
The motor had never worked better. Everything depended on the motor.If the power had happened to fail, Matt could have glided harmlesslydown the airy slope to earth--providing the city afforded him a goodclear space in which to alight. A street zigzagged with telegraph, andtelephone, and electric light wires was not such a place.
Passing the close-packed buildings of the business section, Matt gainedthe residence districts, and held on in a straight line for the Elginroad. He watched his landmarks, and, while they looked differently tohim from aloft than they did from the ground, he knew he was goingright when he saw the waiting automobile.
McGlory was standing up and waving his hat.
Throwing full speed into the propeller, Matt set the automobile afifty-mile pace. At such a speed only a few minutes were necessary tocarry the flying machine close to the oak opening where Ben Ali was tobe in waiting for Dhondaram.
Peering forward and downward, Matt guided and manoeuvred the _Comet_ bysense of touch alone, watching eagerly the while for the great gap inthe woods.
Finally he saw it, and what he glimpsed in the centre of the clearedspace--etched into his brain as by the instantaneous operation of aphotographic lens--was startling, to say the least.
The irregular circle of the opening was crossed through its centreby the hard, level road. Off to one side of the road were the dyingembers of a fire, and near the fire lay a bundle, on which a youngwoman was sitting, her head bowed dejectedly. A turbaned figure stoodat a distance from the girl--the figure covered with a red robe andits brown, staring face uplifted. This was Ben Ali. And the girl--whowas she? Was it possible, _could_ it be possible, that the girl wasMargaret Manners? A wild hope leaped in Motor Matt's breast.
Ben Ali leaned on a club, leaned and watched with never a movetoward running away. Probably he was speculating as to whether hisconfederate, Dhondaram, had learned to operate the air craft.
Matt gave Ben Ali scant time to come to a conclusion. Quick work wasnow in order, and the _Comet_ ducked downward and slid through the airwith slowing motor. Guided by a true, steady hand, the wheels brushedthe roadway, then began to turn as the weight of the machine restedmore heavily upon them. A short run of a dozen feet brought the _Comet_to a stop.
Ben Ali had not stirred from the place where Matt had first seen himstanding.
Gathering the white robe about him, Motor Matt stepped hurriedly to theground and ran toward Ben Ali.
The Hindoo, staring serpent-like, recoiled, his red robe falling awayslightly as his hands raised the club.
"Ben Ali," cried the king of the motor boys, "I have caught you atanother of your tricks. Did you think I was Dhondaram? Dhondaram is aprisoner, and you will soon join him in jail."
There followed a tense moment, during which Ben Ali's eyes glowed andscintillated with their marvelous powers, and his hands tightened onthe bludgeon.
It was not a time to delay matters, and the young motorist made readyfor desperate work against the arrival of the automobile.
"_Maskee!_" cried the astounded Hindoo, as Motor Matt leaped at him.
Ben Ali's amazement appeared to hold him paralyzed for the moment. Itwas not until Matt had caught the club that he aroused himself andbegan vigorous resistance.
Every instant Matt expected the automobile to come whirling to the spotwith his friends.
He had the club, but Ben Ali, with a tigrish spring, seized him aboutthe throat and clung to him like a leech, and all the while Ben Ali'seyes were rolling about in a way that was horrible to behold.
Matt dropped the club to catch at the Hindoo's straining arms. He felta wave of weakness sweep through him, while the flashing eyes continuedto exercise their baneful spell.
Was he being hypnotized in spite of himself? He had read that this wasimpossible, and that no man could be put in a state of hypnosis againsthis will. Yet what did that strange weakness mean?
A tremor ran through Matt's body. He tried to call aloud, but his lipsframed voiceless words. By degrees he felt himself growing weaker andweaker, yielding more and more to the spell of the baneful orbs thatsought his undoing.
; Then, when it seemed as though he was about to come entirely under BenAli's power, there fell a blow--sudden, quick, and accompanied by awild, feminine cry.
Ben Ali's tense fingers relaxed their grip, his form slumped forward,and Matt stood staring at the girl.
She was Margaret Manners, there was not the least doubt of that. Inorder to save him, the girl had seized the bludgeon, had approached heruncle from behind, and struck him down.
The girl's face was wild with grief, but there was a burning resolutionin the eyes.
"I had to!" she cried hysterically. "I had to do that in order to saveyou. It was the spell, the spell of the eyes! He would have made youhis victim, Motor Matt, just as certainly as he has worked his willwith me! Oh, let us get away from here! Quick!" In a frenzy of fearshe cast aside the club and seized his arm with both hands. "There areothers--Aurung Zeeb is one. They are armed, and they will soon be here."
Matt dashed a hand across his forehead, as though to free his brainfrom some frightful dream.
"There are others, you say?" he gasped.
"Yes, yes," she answered distractedly.
"Where?"
"Watching the road! They---- Ah, too late, too late!"
Matt whirled and looked across the oak opening. From the side lyingnearest the town came a running figure. It was Aurung Zeeb.
Where was the automobile? Matt could not hear it, and there was now notime to wait.
The girl had dropped to her knees and thrown her hands over her face.
"Come!" he called, bending down and catching her by the arm. "We canget away from here. Be brave, and trust to me!"
The girl started up, and he ran with her toward the a?roplane. As theydrew near the machine, Matt saw another Hindoo coming into the openingalong the other road.