II21-1963-TOM SWIFT and the Asteroid Pirates by Victor Appleton II

Author:Victor Appleton II [pseud.] [Appleton, Victor II]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grosset & Dunlap
Published: 1963-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

11. SKY-DROP

"HOW convenient that your plane cannot be detected on radar, Miss Swift!" The man's voice was guttural and faintly accented. "Your brother has no idea that you have landed here. Nor will he be able to track the ship when we take off."

Sandy and Phyl exchanged quick, fearful glances. "Th-they must have been listening in on our radio conversation!" Phyl murmured in a frightened voice.

"You're right," the gunman sneered. Suddenly Sandy noticed the pilot—a woman, attractive but hard-faced—watching from the cabin doorway of the enemy craft.

"Just who are you?" Sandy demanded of the man.

"My gun is all the answer you need. Tie their hands, Nick!"

Instinctively the girls clutched each other and drew back. But the gunman's partner grabbed them roughly by the wrists and jerked them around.

"No funny stuff!" he snarled. "Just stay put."

He was a tall man, lean and muscular, with a face scarred as if from an accident. Realizing it was useless to resist, the girls allowed their hands to be tied. Then they were marched to the enemy plane and herded aboard.

"Follow us, but not too closely," the gunman told his partner. "And keep your eyes open for any sign of pursuit." He added with a slight jerk of his head toward the woman pilot, "Your wife can handle the ship in an emergency?"

The man called Nick laughed harshly. "Frieda can do anything with this crate but climb trees!"

"Good!"

The gunman got aboard and latched the cabin door. Nick strode off toward the Pigeon Special. Soon the craft bearing the captive girls was air-borne, heading on a northwesterly course.

Sandy's blue eyes sparked with anger and self-reproach at the way she and Phyl had been trapped and taken prisoner. "If only I'd told Tom we were landing—and where!" she thought.

To help herself keep calm, Sandy watched the terrain below. She kept a lookout for landmarks, hoping to memorize their course. The plane was flying over rugged, wooded country now, with few glimpses of towns or highways.

Presently the craft swooped down toward a blue lake in a narrow, sparsely timbered valley. A crude airstrip had been bulldozed along the rocky shore. As the pilot brought the plane down, Sandy saw a weather-beaten shack nearby.

"Our rented hideout," the heavy-set man said. "Pretty nice, eh?" He scanned the sky as they climbed out. "Ah! Here comes Nick now," he muttered with a look of nervous relief.

The Pigeon Special landed smoothly on the cramped airstrip. Nick came striding up to join them. "Okay, what's the next move?" he asked.

The other man gestured toward the cabin. "You and Frieda take the girls inside while I inspect the antiradar gear. We don't want to be caught with this stolen plane. It will have to be left here or destroyed, so I'd better make complete notes and drawings."

As the woman pilot grabbed Sandy's arm to urge the prisoners toward the shack, the girl wrenched free. She turned toward the leader of the trio.

"What do you intend doing with us?" she demanded. "In case you haven't

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