“What is it, Buck?” Alan asked anxiously. “Nothing new has developed, has there?”
The voice at the other end of the tube was hoarse with desperation:
“Wake up the other boys! Quick, Alan! This is the end! The sulphuric ether and gasoline won’t mix properly in the engines any longer. Two of the magnalium cylinders are damaged beyond all hopes of repair and I can’t get any concussion in the explosion chambers. The ammonia fans are gradually slowing down and the turbines are getting red hot. Within ten minutes more the engines will stop altogether and we will drop into the sea like so much lead. This is the last of the Ocean Flyer.”
CHAPTER XXXI
THE END OF THE OCEAN FLYER
Ned and Bob were immediately awakened and a hasty examination of the engines showed plainly the terrible truth of Bob’s prophecy.
“We’ll drop like a rock!” he repeated hoarsely, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
The boys stared at each other, blank horror in each face.
“Oh, if only we had not been forced to chop away the big wing planes,” groaned Alan. “With them spread, the force of our fall would surely have been checked and given us at least a fighting chance for our lives!”
“No use of crying over spilt milk,” said Ned. “We’ve got to decide upon something quickly. The engines are slowing down now and a fall of 2,000 feet upon the surface of the Atlantic will dash us to pieces just as surely as if we hit bed rock. What can we do?”