able to get along as smoothly as I did before,"
continued the pilot.
"Why, it's a fact that we are letting the others outrun us some, Tom.
Wouldn't it be just too bad if they went off and left us in the lurch?"
"No joke about it, Jack. Something is really going wrong, and I imagine
I'm getting a poor supply of gas. Take a look at the tank, will you, and
see if it's all right!"
At that Jack ceased to chuckle. He realized from what the other said
that he meant it seriously. Accordingly Jack bestirred himself to carry
out the instructions of the pilot, which he was best able to do from his
position aft.
A brief interval of silence followed, save for the constant hum of the
machinery and the whirling propellers. Then Jack uttered a loud cry that
expressed both astonishment and alarm.
"Tom, you guessed it!" he called. "The blooming tank is empty, and we're
feeding on the scant reserve in the smaller tank!"
"Try to find out if a bullet cut a hole in the tank, and let our juice
run out!" Tom now ordered.
Jack had already started an examination on his own account, and he
almost immediately announced a finding.
"Just what happened, Tom!" came his cry, in a tone of dismay mingled
with disgust. "Why, there are two holes, one far above the other! I
reckon it came from below, after all. But the tank is empty, and only
for that automatic feed change, meant for such an emergency, we'd have
been running on hot air before now."
"There's not enough petrol in the small tank to take us home, Jack, I'm
afraid," Tom called next.
"Then what?" demanded the other eagerly.
"Only one thing left to us, I'm thinking."
"What's that? You're the skipper of this craft, and I take my orders
from you. Whatever you say goes."
"We'll have to pick out a nice even spot and land," said the pilot, in
the most natural tone imaginable; for he had by now shut off some of his
power, and the noise accordingly diminished.
"And try to get enough gas, some way or other, to see us safely on our
way--is that the programme, Tom?" queried the observer.
"There's really no other way. If we keep straight on we're likely to be
forced to drop right back of the Hun lines, where we'd be gobbled up as
quick as a flash."
"Too bad, isn't it?" cried Jack, in mock tones of chagrin. "And, Tom,
wouldn't it be queer now, if after we did drop down we should find that
we'd actually landed close to a half ruined chateau that's perched on a
hilltop, and
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