I sank back in my seat. The plane rolled and tossed until I thanked my
lucky stars for the safety strap. In nervous anxiety I watched Charlie
bring the ship up again, and fight his way on through the storm. For
an eternity, it seemed, we battled through a chaos of wind-driven
mist, bright with purple lightning and shaken with crashing thunder.

Charlie struggled with the controls until he was dripping with
perspiration. He must have been utterly worn out, after thirty-six
hours of exhausting effort. A dozen times I despaired of life. The
compass had gone to spinning crazily; we dived through the rain until
we could pick up landmarks below. Three times a great bare peak loomed
suddenly up ahead of us, and Charlie averted collision only by zooming
suddenly upward.

Then slate-gray water was beneath us, running in white-crested
mountains. I knew that we were at last out over the Pacific.

"We've passed Point Eugenia," Charlie said. "It can't be far, now. But
we have only fifteen minutes left. Fifteen minutes to get to
her--before the attraction of the meteor jerks her away, perhaps to a
horrible fate."

* * * * *

We flew low and fast over the racing waves. Charlie looked over his
charts and made a swift calculation. He changed our course a bit and
we flew on at top speed. We scanned the vast, mad expanse of sea below
the blue-gray clouds. Here and there were lines of white breakers, but
nowhere did we see a rock with a girl upon it. Presently the green
outline of an island appeared out of the wild water on our right.

"That's Del Tiburon," Charlie said. "We missed the rock."

He swung the plane about and we flew south over the hastening waves. I
looked at the little clock. It showed two minutes to six. I turned to
Charlie.

"Seven minutes!" he whispered grimly.

On and on we flew, in a wide circle. The motor roared loud. An endless
expanse of racing waves unreeled below us. The little hand crawled
around the dial. One minute past six. Only four minutes to go.

We saw a speck of white foam on the mad gray water. It was miles away,
almost on the horizon. We plunged toward it, motor bellowing loud.
Five miles a minute we flew. The white fleck became a black rock
smothered in snowy foam. On we swept, and over the rock, with
bullet-like speed.

As we plunged by, I saw Virginia's slender form, tattered,
brine-soaked, straggling in the hideous tentacles of the monster
octopus. It was