asked Jack.

"I hate to think of crashing down into those trees," Tom admitted.
"We've just got to get over being too particular. Several places we let
pass us might have answered our purpose. Look ahead, Jack, and tell me if
there doesn't seem to be some sort of open spot lying there."

Jack gave a whoop.

"Here we are!" he cried exultantly. "It's an opening in the scrub timber,
a big gash too, for a fact! Why, already I can see that it looks like a
level green field. How queer it should be lying right there, as if it
might be meant for us."

"You don't glimpse any other chance further on, do you, Jack?" continued
the pilot.

"Never a thing, Tom. Just a continuation of those same old dwarf
oak trees. But why do you ask that? What's the matter with this
fine big gap?"

"I'm afraid it's a marsh, and not a dry field!" Tom answered. "But all
the same I presume we'll have to chance it. Better to strike a bog than
to fall into those trees, where the lot of us might be killed."

"Suppose we circle around, and try to find the best place for a descent,"
proposed Beverly.

All of them strained their eyes to try to see better. Unfortunately a
cloud passed over the sun just then, rendering it difficult to make sure
of anything.

"What's the verdict?" sang out Tom presently, keeping a wary eye on the
straining motors.

"Looks to me as if that further part might be the highest ground," was
Jack's decision.

"I agree with you there!" instantly echoed Beverly.

"That settles it! Here goes to make the try," Tom announced, again
swinging in and shutting off all power.

He continued to glide downward, approaching the ground at a certain point
which he had picked but with his highly trained eye as apparently the
best location for the landing.

Suspecting what might happen, Tom held back until the very last, so that
the big bombing plane was not going at much speed when its wheels came in
contact with the ground for the first time.

Something happened speedily, for it proved to be a bog, and as the
rubber-tired wheels sank in and could not be propelled, the natural
result followed that the nose of the giant plane was buried in the soft
ground, and they came to an abrupt stop.

Tom was the first to crawl forth, and Beverly followed close upon his
heels. The third member of the party did not seem as ready to report,
which fact alarmed his chum.

"Jack, what's wrong with you?" he called out, starting to climb aboard
th