They must not find us here!" "But Gabriel, how shall we escape ?" asked Catherine, her face illumined by the leaping flames of the bungalow.
"How! In their own machine! The machine that Slade and the Air Trust secret-service gave them, to come here and catch or murder us!" "By the Almighty! So we will!" cried Grantham.

"Come on, let's find it!" The little party hurried off toward the landing-ground, a cleared and levelled space further up the mountainside.

The light of the burning bungalow helped show them their path; and Craig had also taken an electric flash-lamp from the hangar.

With this he led the way.
"Right! There it is!" suddenly exclaimed Gabriel, pointing.

Craig painted a brush of electric light over the vague outlines of the Air Trust machine, a steel racer of the latest kind.
"A Floriot biplane," said he.