Читать книгу Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in France and Belgium. Or, Saving the Fortunes of the Trouvilles онлайн

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“There’s a salute for good measure,” observed Henri.

“Lucky we’re out of range of those snipers, but I’m thinking the batteries might attempt to take a whack at us.”

With these words Captain Johnson set the planes for another jump skyward.

“There’s the good old moon to bluff the searchlight,” sang out Billy from the lookout seat. “And, see, there’s a row of smokestacks sticking out of the water. Sheer off, Captain; don’t let those cruisers pump a shot at us. They’d wreck this flyer in a minute!”

The sea-plane was taking the back-track at fine speed when valve trouble developed in the engine room. The cylinders were missing fire, and all of Freeman’s expert tinkering failed to prevent the necessity of rapid descent. The hum of the motors died away, and Captain Johnson dived the craft seaward with almost vertical plunge. The sea-plane hit the water with a dipping movement that raised a fountain over the lookout, and it was Billy that cried “Ugh!” when he was drenched from head to foot by the downfall of several gallons of cold water.