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Tom did not say anything, only smiled, but he knew that the other had enjoyed at least a full hour of sleep.
"How far are we from land, Tom, would you say?" next asked the observer, while he was adjusting the gla.s.ses to his eyes.
"Possibly a hundred and fifty miles, perhaps nearer two hundred," Tom a.s.sured him, in a matter-of-fact tone, as though that was only what might be expected.
"h.e.l.lo! I can see a vessel already, and heading into the west!" declared Jack. "Of course I can't make out what she's like, though I bet you her hull and funnels are camouflaged to beat the band, so as to fool those Hun submarine pirates with the stripes of black and white. You don't think it's possible that could be the _La Bretagne_, Tom?"
"Well, hardly," came the quick reply, "unless something happened to detain the French steamer after she left Havre days ago. She ought to be a whole lot further along than this boat is. She must be some small liner from Liverpool or Southampton, making for Halifax or New York."
Jack presently tired of staring at the little speck far down below.
"I wonder if they can see us with a gla.s.s," he next observed, as Tom began to hand out bread and b.u.t.ter, with hard-boiled eggs or ham between, and some warm coffee kept in Thermos bottles so as to take the chill of the high alt.i.tudes out of their bodies.
"Not a chance in a hundred," Beverly a.s.sured him. "Besides, those aboard the steamer are devoting all their efforts to watching for enemies in the water, and not among the clouds."
They munched their breakfast and enjoyed it immensely. Indeed it seemed as though they devoured twice as much as upon ordinary occasions.
"Lucky we laid in plenty of grub!" Jack declared, when finally all of them announced that they were satisfied. "This Atlantic air makes one keep hungry all the time. Now I can see that steamer plainly, for we've dropped a little lower. Oh! What can that mean?"
His voice had a ring of sudden alarm about it that instantly aroused Tom's curiosity. Even Lieutenant Beverly looked over his shoulder as though he, too, felt a desire to learn more.
"They seem to be firing guns!" continued Jack presently. "Of course we're far too high to hear the sound, but I can see the smoke as sure as I'm sitting here. Can it be they're being attacked by a Hun undersea boat, do you think, boys?"
"Such things keep on happening right along in these shark-infested waters," replied Tom. "Go on and tell us all you see, Jack!"
They were all of them thrilled by the consciousness that possibly a grim tragedy of the sea was being enacted directly beneath, without any likelihood of their being able to render succor to those who might soon be in distress.
"They keep on firing," Jack continued. "I can see each puff of smoke belch out. There, something has happened! I believe it was a torpedo that exploded against the hull of the steamer, for I saw a great blotch rise up, and men are running about the decks like mad!"
Beverly had almost automatically decreased their speed, as though inclined to hover above the ill-fated vessel as long as possible, at least to learn what followed.
"They seem to be making signals!" Jack presently cried out.
"Look around and see if you can glimpse anything coming on!" demanded Tom, as though suspecting the cause of this fresh announcement.
Hardly had the one who gripped the binoculars started to do as he was requested than he gave a cry of mingled relief and satisfaction.
"Two boats racing straight for the spot, boys! Destroyers, too! Like as not Americans, for they keep lying out here, you know, to protect our transports going over with the boys. How they do cut through the water with their sharp bows and make the waves fly! But that steamer looks as if she might be sinking right now!"
The excitement grew intense. Beverly even started to circle around, content to lose a few miles and some minutes if only he could satisfy their minds that all was well with the unfortunate steamer that had been so ruthlessly torpedoed without warning by the undersea pirates.
"They're coming up like fun!" cried Jack presently. "I can't see as well as I'd like, though, on account of the sea fog that keeps drifting along in patches like clouds. I really believe they'll get up before she founders. Now the crew have started putting off boats to make sure of saving the pa.s.sengers if the worst comes!"
"Which shows they have a capable captain aboard," commented Tom.
"But the sea must be pretty rough," continued Jack, "because the small boats toss and pitch sharply as they start away from the steamer. Hang that fog, it's going to shut the whole picture out soon. But there, one of the destroyers has arrived, and the boats are heading straight on to it."
A minute later Jack gave them another little batch of news.
"The other destroyer is circling around, and must be looking for signs of the sub. Wow! that was a terrible waterspout, though. And there goes a second one!"
"They're dropping depth bombs, intending to get the slinker!" announced Beverly jubilantly.
"Here's hoping they do then!" cried Jack, and immediately afterwards added: "But it's all over for us, boys, because the fog's shut it off completely. Might as well get along on our way; but I'm happy to know those Yankee boats came up in time to save everybody aboard the steamer.
What a bully view we had of the performance!"
"It's such things that are apt to break the monotony and routine of a long flight like the one we've undertaken," remarked Tom. "In time, of course, the dash across the Atlantic will become quite common; and those who make it are apt to see wonderful sights."
"Two hundred miles out," Jack was saying to himself as he sat there still holding the gla.s.ses in his hand, though not attempting to make use of them, and his eyes ranged longingly toward the western horizon where the blue of the sky touched the dark green of the boundless sea, all his thoughts centered on the goal that lay far distant across that vast waste of tumbling waters.
So as the sun started to climb in the eastern heavens the flight of the big bombing plane carrying the trio of adventurous ones was continued, every mile left behind bringing them that much nearer their destination, with the future still an unsolved problem.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE COLD HAND OF FEAR
Noon came and went, with the same steady progress being maintained hour after hour. Tom relieved Beverly at the pilot's berth, and the latter succeeded in getting some much needed rest. Still, none of them could sleep comfortably, which was hardly to be wondered at considering their strange surroundings.
"My first nap when flying, for a fact!" admitted Colin, after he had awakened, and managed to stretch his stiffened limbs.
"Tough work trying to get a few winks of sleep when one is quivering all over with excitement," Jack remarked.
They were no longer maintaining such a high course, having descended until the heaving sea lay not more than a thousand feet below. Nothing was in sight in any direction, which was one reason for Tom's dropping down as he did.
"A lot of water," Jack commented, for they had started to try out the wonderful little wireless telephone, to find that it really worked splendidly. "Guess after the flood Noah must have thought that way too.
But shucks! we haven't got even a dove to send out."
"We happen to have something better," Tom told him, "which is the power to shoot our boat through s.p.a.ce at the rate of a mile a minute. No ark business about this craft."
"Well, is there any objection to breaking our fast again?" the other inquired, changing the subject.
Beverly seemed to think not, for he proceeded to get out the hamper in which much of their prepared food was contained.
"I laid in double the quant.i.ty I expected we'd devour," he told them, "and then added something to that for good measure. No telling what may crop up; and if we happen to be cast on a desert island a healthy lot of grub might come in handy."
"It does right now, when we are far from any island, unless that's one up there in that dark cloud floating above us," and Jack stretched out to receive his portion of the lunch as parceled out by Colin.
"One thing that made me drop to a lower level," explained Tom, "was the fact of its being so cold up there among the clouds. Already I feel better for the change."
"How about it if we should sight a steamer?" asked Jack. "They'd report meeting a plane flying west here in midocean, which would stir up no end of comment in the papers, and might lead to our being found out."
"We depend on you to keep the gla.s.ses in use, and report anything in sight ahead," laughed Tom; for the clatter of the motors did not seem to bother them in the least when using the wireless telephone. "And when you sing out 'smoke down low on the horizon to the west!' it's going to be an easy job for us to climb up above the clouds in a hurry."
So it was settled, and they ate their lunch in comfort.