large rocks dislodged and crash-smashed
through the bushes. Without an instant's pause Phil went leaping over
fallen trees and tearing through the undergrowth like one possessed,
swearing at the occasional obstruction over which he tripped in the
dark.

He broke through into the tote road just as the girl's fleeing figure
loomed dimly in the twilight.

"Here, Cristy!" he shouted. "This way. The Saucer! Make for the
Saucer! Are you all right?"

"Yes," she panted. "Oh, Philip,--Svenson--call Svenson!" Neither of
them gave thought to the familiar names by which they addressed each
other under the stress of the moment.

"Here, Cork. Help her. Hustle back, the both of you."

There was no time to lose. Members of the gang were plunging through
the woods towards the spot from several directions. Kendrick sped down
the tote road, revolver in hand. Svenson was not hard to locate, for
he was bellowing like a bull of Bashan in the middle of the trail,
shaking his fist in the air and hurling defiance at a cringing group
who were just picking themselves up from the ground where they had been
flung by the enraged Swede.

"Come on, Svenson! This is Kendrick. Quick, man," called Phil.
"We've got her safe. But there's a million more of them coming through
the woods."

They ran for it none too soon. Rifle flashes broke in the dark like
fireflies elongated. Bullets were whining past them and thudding into
the tree-trunks and plowing up the ground all around them as they dove
into the thicket; but it was blind guess work shooting in the dark.
They got through unscathed.

At the foot of the hill they overtook McCorquodale and Cristy just as
the sharp bark of the detective's automatic sent three pursuers hastily
to cover. The big Swede swept the girl over his shoulder as if she had
been a sack of meal and started rapidly up the ascent while Kendrick
dropped behind a rock and joined McCorquodale in the fusilade with his
own weapon.

The firing was bringing the whole gang about their ears and as soon as
he had given Svenson time to reach the top Phil ordered the detective
to beat a retreat. They tumbled in among their friends, all but winded.

Svenson sat down and wiped away the blood that was trickling down his
face from a scalp wound.

"_Yum_--pin' _Yim_iny!" he puffed with emphasis. "Vell, by golly!"

"Y've said somethin', Goliath," approved McCorquodale with a grin.

CHAPTER XXI

DOUBLE TROUBLE