So Perk settled down as comfortably as the limited accommodations allowed while Jack continued to watch his indicators on the black dashboard and by the exercise of continual care avoid such traps as tricky air pockets, such as might fall in their way.
IX
THE THREATENING CRASH
As time passed Jack continued to sit there in charge, frequently glancing over the side to see if there were any signs of the swirling beacons especially designed to assist air mail pilots on their way to some distant goal.
He had figured out that they must, sooner or later, come upon the line of such beacons and once found it would not be very difficult to continue following them during the balance of the night.
In the end he was greatly pleased to discover a faint light ahead—in about ten seconds he glimpsed it again and when this happened for the third time his last doubt was removed.
As he passed far above the revolving light he changed his course a little knowing the points of the compass the line of beacons followed, he must set out to follow them for unless he managed to do the right thing he could not possibly come across the next whirling glow.
Three, four of the friendly lights designated as “guide-posts of the air” he passed and all seemed going just as he would wish, when there came a sudden and unwelcome change.
Perk, sleeping just behind the pilot, felt something come in contact with his arm and he instinctively understood it was Jack giving him the prearranged nudge to let him know his rest period had expired and that it was up to him to take his turn at the controls.
“Huh! I get you, partner,” he mumbled, not yet thoroughly aroused, “watchman, how goes the night, eh Jack, old hoss?”
“Not so good,” the other told him.