"Now, Paul! Slide for it!" cried John, as the machine began a slow descent in a great circle.
Paul then worked his way back like a crab, sliding a little, but not once allowing his tensioned limbs to relax to the danger point. Before the airplane had come within five hundred feet of the sea, he felt his legs grasped in the strong hands of John and Tom, and the next moment they had hauled him bodily through the window.
"Ginger, Buddy, that was a close call for us—and you, too!" exclaimed
John. "I hope I never see you in such a ticklish place again!"
Paul sank into a seat. He was too exhausted to do anything but smile. When at last he could find his voice he asked, anxiously: "Can Bob control her all right now?"
"Well enough to land us where we wish to go, he says," observed Tom.
"That's right," put in Bob himself, who had overheard the conversation. "The Sky-Bird isn't what she was before that rock went through her, but if nothing worse happens we'll reach Singapore, though it will probably be somewhat later than our sweet friends in the other plane."
"We can land at Sumatra, I think, if we have to make repairs before," ventured John. "We ought to cross the northern end of that island in the course of an hour."
Searching the horizon for their rivals, they saw that, evidently satisfied with the mischief they had done, the Clarion crew had gone on at full speed, for they were now far ahead.
"If I ever run onto Pete Deveaux again I believe I shall be angry enough to choke him till he's unable to speak his own name," declared Paul.
"I'm afraid I'll have to help you at that job, Paul," cried Tom. "He's the most unprincipled scoundrel that ever went unhung."