"Now, I wonder what he is up to," growled the scientist. "I believe
he has given me the slip and gotten away. Here I've been dreaming for
minutes. I'll slip some myself and see if I can't surprise him if
he's there yet."
Once again he started across the camp ground, without resorting to any
of his former tactics, other than to proceed with extreme caution,
covering the intervening space with long, careful strides.
Reaching the rock, he paused to listen, but could hear nothing.
Gun ready for instant use, Professor Zepplin dashed around the corner
of the rock, running plump into the arms of the fellow whom he had
been so successfully dodging for the past twenty minutes.
So startled was the scientist that he dropped his revolver, throwing
both arms about his antagonist. He was surprised at the slenderness
of the fellow, though he quickly discovered that what the other lacked
in bulk he easily made up for by his lithe, supple body and muscular
arms.
Almost before Professor Zepplin had collected his wits sufficiently to
make any sort of defense he found himself lying flat on his back, with
his opponent sitting on top of him, both wrists pinioned to the ground
in an iron grip.
There seemed to the Professor something strangely familiar about the
figure that was holding him down so firmly, but he did not try to
analyze the impression.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25