It was a frame-up, Hemingwood thought as he hurled himself at the contestants. He hit them like a human cannon ball. And, for the moment, he was one. Characteristically, he was totally unimpressed by the odds against him. With fists and feet he drove the astounded battlers back. After they had recovered, they commenced to retaliate. No one else took a hand, for a moment, and Hemingwood fought entirely alone. He seemed to be a dynamic ball, bristling with feet and fists from every angle. He was in a cold rage at the unwarranted interference of the mountaineers, and he gloried in the opportunity to vent some of it on them. He fought furiously, and for a few seconds actually had the best of it. A sweeping kick sent the stocky man to the ground, and George took a clumsy swing on the side of the head in order to sink his fist in the taller man’s belly. That put that personage out for a second or two, so he was able to meet the rising gladiator with a wild flurry of fists that cracked home to the jaw and sent him down again. But he knew it could not last. He leaped back, and jerked out his Colt. “Stand still, you!” he snapped, and his glinting eyes were hard and keen and his smile had more than a touch of grimness about it. Subconsciously he noticed Ballardson’s amazed, slightly scared face, and the taut expectancy, half fear and half enjoyment, of the spectators. Apperson was at his elbow, his gun also out. “Listen, all of you!” Hemingwood shouted. There was utter silence. “There’s at least one man here that knows airplanes. This framed-up fight was for the purpose of putting this ship out of commission. If another soul gets anywhere near it he’s going to be filled so full of lead it’ll take a block and tackle to lift him into the hearse. “You’re fooling with the United States Army if you knock me off. And you won’t get away with it. I’m here to take pictures, and nothing else. I don’t give a damn who or what you are, but by God if you two birds or anyone else looks crosseyed in my direction or starts anything else as funny as this, I’ll commence to get damn interested! Now get the hell out of here, you two, and the rest of you get back and stay back!” Which they did. They were thoroughly awed, and well satisfied to remain at a distance. It was significant that not a soul seemed to take Hemingwood’s part. Evidently the mountaineers had the village business men somewhat under their thumbs. “Nice start I’ve got,” soliloquized the untroubled flyer. CHAPTER III He wasted no time in taking off--no telling when fleecy cumulous clouds would form in the sky and spoil the continuity of the strips. Apperson had everything in readiness; the camera was set in the floor of the rear cockpit, in which an opening was cut to fit it. The electric motor was connected, and spare batteries and plenty of film for the day’s work were in a specially built recess behind the seat.