Part 17 (1/2)
”See what you can do about that gasoline leak!” he directed. Then, head-first, he pitched overboard. Doc struck the water cleanly, with a minimum of splash. His powerful frame curved expertly an instant after the moment of impact, and the result was a perfect shallow dive. He seemed scarcely to wet his back.
Doc stroked to the wreck. A hole gaped in the fuselage, He grasped the edge of this, hauled himself up and glanced into the cabin The body of the pilot was being tumbled about by the water that poured into the cabin. There was a crease nearly three inches deep across the top of his skull, where he had smashed against a strut.
A few feet from the dead flier, the steel-haired girl paddled feebly. She was dazed, but seemed otherwise not seriously damaged.
DOC SAVAGE reached into the sinking plane and hauled the girl out. He was none too soon, for the stricken craft, weighted by its engine, sank. The whirl drew Doc and his burden beneath the surface.
powerful stroking on the bronze man's part brought them up again.
Bubbles the size of water buckets arose from the sinking plane and, bursting, made plopping noises.
Doc glanced upward, then around. The gyro was on the lake surface! It had settled there during the momentary s.p.a.ce when the bronze man was under water.
”You'll sink!” Doc shouted warningly. ”Those bullets all but tore the bottom out of the fuselage!”
”The gas is gone -- leaked out!” Renny boomed. ”We couldn't plug that hole. It was in an inaccessible position.”
The men in the gyro were bringing out collapsible canvas boats. They tossed these into the water, then flung articles of equipment into the little sh.e.l.ls.
The gyro settled, rocking a little. Doc's men voiced no more words; the business of transferring their paraphernalia to the boats was too 'urgent.
Monk moved Habeas Corpus from the stricken plane.
They completed the s.h.i.+ft with only fragments of seconds to spare, and clambered hastily into the folding boats, barely escaping from under the great wings of the gyro as it went down.
Doc Savage paddled to the nearest folding boat. He lifted the steel-haired girl in; then, careful not to upset the sh.e.l.l, clambered aboard himself.
The steel-haired girl, recovered now, stared at Doc in the moonlight. She spoke, and her voice was calm for all of the ripping excitement of the last few minutes.
”They tied me in the c.o.c.kpit,” she said. ”They wanted you to think I was your attacker.”
”We guessed that,” Monk put in, anxious to get the favor of the entrancing young woman.
Doc seemed about to ask the steel-haired girl questions, but withheld them. He leveled an arm.
”Our trouble seems to be just starting!”
The pig, Habeas, reared up from his position near Monk's feet. He looked toward the island. His tremendous ears shot straight in the air. He emitted a procession of staccato, excited grunts. Then he ducked below the gunwales of the boat, as if to shut out the sight. In the direction of the island, three gigantic human heads projected above the lake surface. Huge black arms appeared and disappeared in measured swimming stroke.
”They're coming after us!” the girl shrilled.
CLIPPED TO the light metal frame of the collapsible boats were telescoping oars. The men hastily freed these and began to paddle.
”One consolation,” said bony Johnny, ”is that those freaks can't swim as fast as we can row.”
They paddled briskly. All six were men of more than average muscular development: The steel-haired girl, insisting on wielding a paddle, exhibited strength somewhat beyond the ordinary. The swimming pinhead giants dropped farther back.
”They're not wearing their armor,” Ham remarked. ”If they come close, we'll see how bullets affect 'em!”
Without interrupting his paddling, Doc addressed the steel- haired girl.
”me gang wanted you to teach them the pinhead Ianguage so they could issue commands to those three black fellows, didn't they?”
She nodded. ”Yes. They made me repeat numerous commands until they understood how to issue them.
I found out why they were so anxious to be able to give them orders. It seems that the blacks hated Bruno Hen.
He had done them some injury. One night they escaped and murdered him. They wouldn't have done this, had their chief ordered them not to do so.”
”Why was the giant murdered in the New York mine tunnel?” Doc questioned. ”Or did you hear of it?”
”I heard,” said the girl. ”That particular giant had been stubborn about taking orders from Pere Teston.
They were afraid of him.”
”Pere Teston!” Doc asked sharply.
”He is the chief,” the girl explained. ”I did not see him. But his name was mentioned numerous times.”
”What about Griswold Rock?”
”He's on the island somewhere. I didn't see him.”
Monk put in, ”What I fail to understand is why they seized Griswold Rock the second time?”
”I don't know why they grabbed him,” the girl replied.
”Do you know any of their plans?” Doc asked.
”Only that Pere Teston intends to send his giants against Detroit to-morrow night.”
To their ears came the mutter of a motor boat. It was a fast craft; it appeared a moment later, scudding around the end of the island. It veered to One side in order to keep clear of any bullets they might launch, and circled to get ahead of them.
”Holy cow!” Renny groaned. ”That thing is making sixty an hour, at least.”
The motor boat was soon ahead. A tripod, mounted on its bow cowling, supported a machine gun. Thiswent into action, sending a ribbon of lead across the lake surface.
Doc's men tried returning the fire with their small supermachine pistols. The range of the other weapon, however, was too great. They were driven to back water, their own bullets falling short.
The swimming pinheads speedily overhauled them.
Chapter 22. THE AWFUL ISLE.
RENNY, WITH his huge, rocklike hands, was the most skilled marksman of the party, excepting only Doc. He lifted his supermachine gun and fired. The bullets traced a foamy line across the water, a line that sought and found one of the swimming pinheads.
The giant made a great gobbling sound of anger and dived beneath the surface. He came up some yards nearer.