"I'll take a look, Tom!" Lieutenant Beverly called out. "Not that I doubt what you say, but all of us will have to put our heads together; we shall need all our wits if what you fear proves to be a fact."
Tom was more than willing, in fact he would have himself insisted on the lieutenant or Jack doing this very thing. Pilots differ in plenty of ways; and, as Beverly had said, one might hit on an answer to the problem that had entirely escaped the others.
Jack said not a word, but almost held his breath while Beverly was making his eager examination. The plane was not more than a thousand feet above the sea at most, and going very slowly now.
A short time elapsed. Then Beverly completed his task. The flight lieutenant looked more serious than ever, which told the story even before he uttered a single word.
Apparently the worst had come, and they were up against a question on the answer to which everything, even life itself, depended.
"I'm sorry to say it's a positive fact, boys!" called out Beverly, and as both the others were straining their ears to catch what he said, they had no difficulty in hearing every word.
"It's the supply pipe clogging then?" Tom asked.
"Yes," came the quick answer. "And while under some conditions I've been able to get along for a short time without dropping down, as a rule I've found it wise to look for a landing-place before things got to the point of desperation and avoid a fall, possibly in the midst of a German battalion."
"No chance of our getting at it while afloat, is there?" Jack asked, although he knew what Beverly was bound to say.
"Not the slightest," the other shot back. "It might keep going for something like an hour, and then shut off the gas entirely. Of course there's always a possibility of a miracle happening, such as the obstruction being suddenly overcome; but I'm afraid that's one chance in a million."