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 occupied by a Hun general as headquarters?"
"That would be a strange coincidence, I should call it. Jack."
"But you say we've just got to land somewhere," urged the other.
"No other way out of the mess. It's either
