but it had to be done to make the landing. Where do we go from here?"
Perhaps that phrase fell naturally from Jack's lips, for he had been singing a song with those identical words earlier on that very evening, with some of his rollicking companions at the Y. M. C. A. hut.
"As soon as we can get our bearings we want to find a road," his chum explained.
"Sure thing. And there ought to be one around, else how would folks get up to that chateau?" Jack demanded. "I suppose we'll have to see after the supply of gas the first thing."
"That was settled beforehand," came the reply. "Now we ought to get our bearings down pat before leaving the old bus here."
"It would be a bad joke on us for a fact, Tom, if we wandered off, and then after picking up a few gallons of petrol—even one, if it came down to that quantity, would serve—and then couldn't for the life of us find where we left the plane. Yes, let's skirmish around, and locate things in our minds."
Accordingly they started to move to the right, gradually widening the circle they made around the plane resting on the open grassy stretch of ground.
"Now we've got to the trees, you notice," said Tom. Once we pass them by, I think well come
