"But the poor old bomber! It's ruined, Colin, I'm afraid," Jack finally
managed to say, when he sank down from his exertions.
"That's a small matter," Beverly assured him. "The main thing is that we
did what we set out to do, and proved that the dream of all real airmen
could be made to come true. We may live to see a procession of monster
boats of the air setting out for over-seas daily, carrying passengers, as
well as mail and express matter."
"Yes," said Tom gravely, and yet with a pardonable trace of pride in
voice and manner, "the Atlantic has been conquered, and saddled, and
bridled, like any wild broncho of the plains. But hadn't we better be
thinking of getting out of this soft marshy tract?"
"As quickly as we possibly can," Jack told him. "We'll try to run across
some Virginia farmer, black or white, who will have a horse and agree to
take us to the nearest railroad station. Once we hit civilization, the
rest will be easy."
"What about the plane, Colin?" asked Tom.
"It can stay here for the time being," the other answered him. "Later
on I'll hire some one to have it hauled out and stored against my
coming back--after we've been a while in Berlin and got Heine to
behaving himself."
They secured such things as it was desirable they should keep. Acting on
Tom's advice everything that might testify to their identity was also
removed, lest the bogged plane be accidentally discovered and betray
them.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163