CHAPTER III.

BARNEY GETS SQUARE WITH POMP.

The Celt was firm in his purpose to give Pomp a soaking which he would not soon forget.

He was smarting himself from the effects of the experience with the live wire. His bones were yet sore.

“Begorra, I’ll make the naygur wish he’d niver tackled me!” he declared. “Share, I’ll fix him neat.”

Barney had procured from the chemical stores some phosphorus.

He procured a couple of sheets, and thoroughly treated them to a solution of this.

In the dark the sheets gave forth a luminous blue light, which was very like the sulphurous fires supposed to exist in Hades.

The Celt dressed himself up in these in the most ghostly fashion.

He had among his effects a hideous mask, which he whitened with a solution of common whitewash.

Then he placed plumpers in his cheeks to change the tone of his voice. He was now all ready for fun.

He chuckled as he surveyed himself in a glass.

“Be me sowl, I’ll scare the loife out av that naygur!” he muttered, jubilantly. “He’ll think fer shure that the divil has come fer him!”

Pomp was aft, engaged in polishing some brass-work on the binnacle lamp.

The light from the electric globe shone full upon his black visage as he worked away industriously and hummed a song at the same time.

Barney crept along in the gloom, and truly he was a sight well calculated to inspire terror.

The phosphoric gleam from his white garments was almost ghostly, and savoring of graveyards and ghouls.

Nearer he crept to the unsuspecting darky.

He was now directly behind him.

Pomp never dreamed of the ghostly visitor so near him.

Barney drew himself up and uttered a deep and dismal groan.

In a moment Pomp turned.

The effect was comical beyond all powers of description.

The darky let out a yell which might have awakened the dead, and dropped upon his knees.

“Massy sakes, golly fo’ glory, sakes alibe!” he gasped. “Bress de Lor’, sabe mah haht! de ghosteses hab come fo’ Pomp fo’ suah. Please, Mr. Ghosteses, don’ harm dis chile, an’ he do anyfing yo’ say.”

Barney waved his spectral arm and let out another groan.

Pomp doubled up and cried:

“Don’ hurt dis po’ brack chile, Mistah Ghosteses, ah beg ob yo’. I do anyfing yo’ say if yo’ don’ hurt dis chile.”

“Stand on yer head,” said Barney, in a dismal voice.

In a twinkling Pomp obeyed.

“Walk on yer hands!”

This was done.

But Barney, the inexorable persecutor, was not yet satisfied.

Near by was a pail of salt water, which had been used in washing the deck. The pseudo ghost pointed to this.

“Drink!” he said.

Pomp hesitated.

“Drink!” thundered the specter.

“But, Mistah Ghosteses——”

“Drink, I say!” roared Barney.

He took a step forward. Pomp at once succumbed.

He took up the pail of water and took a mouthful. It was villainous stuff, and nigh choked him to death.

He dropped the pail and began to retch violently. The ghost took a step forward.

At once Pomp essayed a mouthful more.

“Please, Mistah Ghosteses, don’ make me drink no moh ob dat stuff,” he cried, beseechingly.

“Drink!” roared Barney.

“Mistah Ghosteses——”

For a moment Barney forgot his personality and said, in his rich brogue:

“Begorra, av yez don’t dhrink the whole av it I’ll break the neck av yez!”

The mask was off.

In an instant Pomp’s fears were dispelled and he understood the whole game.

“Huh!” he yelled, straightening himself up. “I ain’t afraid ob no ‘count I’ish ghosteses, no way, you kin jes’ bet! Look out dar!”

Lowering his head, Pomp made a dash for his persecutor.

Barney was not quick enough to get out of the way.

The darky’s head struck him full in the stomach.

“Wow-ow-ough!” yelled Barney, with pain and anger. “Be me sowl, yez have kilt me for shure!”

“I teach yo’ to play such tricks on me, yo’ no ‘count I’shman!” yelled the darky, furiously making another rush.

Barney was not quick enough to get out of the way, and this time Pomp butted him clean over the rail of the air-ship.

The distance to the ground was not ten feet, and Barney was not hurt by the fall.

But the disclosure that the fall made was a startling one.

Barney felt some yielding form beneath him, and a sharp yell went up.

The Celt rolled over and was upon his feet instantly, but only in time to find himself surrounded by dark forms.

In the gloom he could not see who these were. But instinctively the thought of an enemy came to him.

“Whurroo!” he yelled, making a break through the throng, “Phwat the divil has broke loose? Get out av me way, yez omadhouns!”

Through the gang he broke, knocking them right and left. An angry series of yells went up, and the dark forms began to pile over the rail.

Frank Reade, Jr., had heard the racket, and sprang out upon deck.

At that moment Barney sprang over the rail, crying:

“Ochone, but the divils have attacked us, an’ shure they’ll be the death av the whole av us!”

Frank saw the dark forms coming over the rail.

Instinctively he knew what had happened. The situation was plain to him.

The mountains were infested with bands of Peruvian brigands, made up of half-breed natives and cut-throat Spaniards.

There was no doubt but that a gang of these had attacked the Kite.

Frank knew well what the result would be should they gain a footing on the deck.

There was no doubt but that the brigands would murder every one of the party and loot and burn the air-ship.

There was no time to hesitate.

The promptest of action must be made. Frank sprang to the searchlight and turned its glare full on the throng.

The effect was intense.

For a moment the brigands were blinded and stood gazing helplessly at the mighty glare of light.

In that moment Frank saw that they were types of the roughest men in creation, and that they were in great numbers.

It was a critical moment.

Certainly it looked as if the air-ship was doomed. If the brigands were not repulsed the effect would be terrible.

“On deck, all!” yelled Frank. “Stand ready for a fight!”

He could have rushed to the pilot-house and have sent the air-ship aloft in a moment.

But the brigands were now on deck in large numbers.

Pomp and Barney rushed into the cabin and came out with rifles. Harding also came with them.

“Give it to ‘em!” shouted Frank. “Don’t give them a chance to get the upper hand!”

“You bet we won’t,” cried Harding, with a thrill of resolution. “Mow them down, boys!”

The three rifles spoke.

The brigands were shot down like sheep. They returned the fire, but the defenders of the Kite were now all in the cabin and firing through loop-holes.

The destruction was most deadly.

The brigands tried to break in the cabin door. At this moment a happy thought came to Frank.

The Kite had been so constructed that its steel hull could be charged with electricity by pressing a certain key.

Those who were in the cabin, however, which was so arranged to be safe insulated territory, would not feel the shock.

Frank determined upon this method of repulsing the foe.

He saw quickly that it was going to be quite useless to attempt to defeat the brigands by means of rifles alone.

So he quickly connected the hull of the air-ship with the dynamos, and pressed the key which sent the electric current into it.

The result was a most unpleasant surprise to the brigands.

They were flung from the air-ship’s deck as if propelled by giant hands. Broken bones and damaged heads were in order. Every brigand who ventured to touch the electrified air-ship was sorry the next moment.

This ended the battle.

The brigands withdrew into the darkness. They continued to fire ineffectual shots at the air-ship for some time.

But after awhile they withdrew.

This ended the affair for the time. The voyagers had reason to congratulate themselves that they had escaped so luckily.

“Begorra, I niver had a more narrow escape from instant death in me loife!” cried Barney. “Bechune you an’ the brigands, naygur, I come mighty nigh croakin’.”

“Youse jes’ right dar, I’ish,” returned Pomp, with flashing eyes. “An’ dat jes’ serves yo’ right fo’ yo’ treatment of me!”

“Be jabbers, it’s square we are for onct, yez black monkey.”

“I done fink yo’ don’ want fo’ to play no mo’ ghosteses, I’ish!”

“Begorra, it’ll be wuss next time, naygur!”

“Well,” said Frank, with conviction, “it’s very fortunate indeed that Barney happened to tumble onto those chaps. If he had not, there is no doubt but that they would have given us a surprise.”

“They are a cut-throat crew,” declared Harding. “I was once held a prisoner by them for a week. I never suffered harsher treatment in my life.”

As it was not likely that the brigands would return again that night, the position of the air-ship was not changed.

Until morning came, Barney and Pomp remained on guard.

The day dawned bright and clear, a typical day in the tropics.

The air-ship was soon again on its way.

For an hour and a half the air-ship kept on, until suddenly Harding drew Frank to the rail and pointed to a distant cut in the mountains.

“There is the cave,” he said; “but the air-ship cannot go thither.”

“All right,” declared the young inventor; “we will leave it here.”

Frank called to Barney and Pomp and said:

“You will stay aboard the ship and keep a sharp lookout until we return. Do you understand?”

“A’right, Marse Frank,” replied Pomp.

“Yis, sor!” returned Barney.

Both were dying to accompany their young master upon the expedition.

But this of course was impossible, as somebody must be left aboard the air-ship.

The kite settled down now into a wide clearing. Here Frank intended to land.

Both himself and Harding were quickly ready and equipped for the expedition which was destined to acquaint them with some most thrilling adventures.