“It’s hopeless. We’ll just have to wait for daylight,” he told his companions.
The whole camp was plunged into gloom by the disappearance of Tom and Bud. Half the night had gone by when a sentry yanked the alarm siren.
Floodlights blazed across the camp and crewmen tumbled out of their bunks.
“What’s up?” Hank Sterling came charging out of his shack on the double.
The sentry ran to meet him. “Horsemen!” he shouted. “We’re being attacked!”
CHAPTER XVIII
SURPRISE BLAST-OFF
A DRUM of hoofbeats could be heard thundering toward the camp. The riders were still beyond view because of the darkness, but were drawing closer by the second.
Hank barked out orders. “Arv, get the tear-gas guns! Chow, start issuing gas masks!”
Hank and his men had only moments to rally their defenses before the horsemen came galloping across the airfield into camp. The two in front were wearing khaki field garb. The others-all brandishing rifles-were either wearing high-flapped felt hats, or the turbans of the Baluchi tribesmen.
“Hold it!” shouted Hank.
His iron-voiced command brought the horsemen to a clattering halt as they reined in sharply. All were streaked with dust and looked as if they had ridden hard and far.
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166 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
“Put away that weapon!” the black-bearded leader snapped. “We come as friends!”
Hank’s eyes narrowed as he recognized Nurhan Flambo.
“We’ll lower our shootin’ irons when your hombres drop them rifles!” Chow growled.
“Don’t be foolish,” Flambo said. “We are not rustlers from your Wild West!”