"I see them, about ten miles behind," announced Herc presently. "They're coming right ahead, too. Traveling at a faster clip than we are, I judge."
"Let them risk their necks if they want to. We'll jog along easily," replied Ned.
For some time they sped on, above pastures and grain fields, and patches of woodland and meadow, threaded here and there by narrow streams which glittered in the bright sunlight like silver ribbons. It was, as Herc had said, "great." The blood ran faster, and every nerve tingled invigoratingly under the stimulus of the rapid advance through the air. All about them the shining stay-wires hummed and buzzed, giving out a shrill accompaniment to the steady drone of the motor.
"I'll slow down a bit now," said Ned presently. "I'm anxious to see how she'll behave at reduced speed with extra weight on board."
As he shut down the power, the aeroplane descended perceptibly. The added weight of another passenger made her far less buoyant, as was to have been expected.
They were quite low, hovering like a big hawk above a small farm-house, when a sudden scream from below was borne to their ears quite distinctly.
"It was a woman screaming," was the rejoinder. "We'd better drop down and see what's the trouble."
"Just what I think. It came from that farm-house."
"I know. Hold on tight, now; I'm going to drop fast."
Like a stone the aeroplane fell. The rapidity of the drop made both the aviators gasp. Just as it seemed inevitable that they must be dashed to bits on the ground beneath, Ned, by a skilful bit of airmanship, brought his craft to a level keel, and alighted without a jolt.
They came to earth in an open meadow at the rear of the farm-house, a white-painted, green-shuttered place of comfortable appearance. As the machine stopped its motion, both lads leaped out and began running toward the house. As they neared it, a voice struck on their ears:
"Come on, now; no nonsense. Give me the money your husband has hidden here, or I'll hurt you."
Had the two Dreadnought Boys been able to see through the walls of the house, they would have beheld a terrified woman, in a gingham gown and white apron, cowering before a heavy-set man, who was brandishing a stout club. The fellow's look was desperate. His deep little eyes glittered menacingly under heavy, black brows. His bluish, bristly chin thrust forward truculently.