"Let us go up. Papa will follow." This from Andra as they climbed the
steps to the little platform where the two aviators were scanning the
upper air.
From the disjointed remarks of the airmen the realized that something
was in sight, yet hardly visible to the naked eye. At last, however,
came a gasp from one of the girls who pointed eagerly to the other.
"Don't you see it?" exclaimed Andra. "Where are your eyes? My! It's
sagging downward. I wonder --'
Here Avella interrupted with a slight scream as she too, caught sight
of a faint, filmy something that was teetering slowly down, but not in
straight lines as is usual when planes are descending in the regular
methods employed by aviators when striving to reach a certain landing.
"What is the matter with it?" queried Andra to any one within hearing.
"That you, ladies?" Byers turned suddenly, then his eyes sought his
glass again. "Why, it is quite evident that the machine is a Fokker
and disabled. He'll make it all right, I guess."
"That is a German machine, isn't it?" asked Avella anxiously.
"Mightn't it be a hostile one?" queried Andra.
"The plane is of hostile make, Miss Walsen, but the chap inside is one
of us, you may be sure. There! I fear he is going to drop."
Byers, followed by the orderly, was already running down the steps,
almost colliding with the Senator who arrived at this moment.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119