"You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din."
"Only because you're so badly bunged up. One more notch would've got my goat," replied Seaton frankly as he made his way to Dorothy's side. He noticed as he reached her, that Crane had removed his helmet and was approaching the other girl. By the time DuQuesne had finished the observation, the other passengers had completely recovered, apparently none the worse for their experience.
"Did we gain anything?" asked Seaton eagerly.
"I make it two, four, thirteen. We've lost about two minutes of arc. How much power did we have on?"
"A little over half—thirty-two points out of sixty possible."
"We were still falling pretty fast. We'll have to put on everything we've got. Since neither of us can put it on we'll have to rig up an automatic feed. It'll take time, but it's the only way."
"The automatic control is already there," put in Crane, forestalling Seaton's explanation. "The only question is whether we will live through it—and that is not really a question, since certain death is the only alternative. We must do it."
"We sure must," answered Seaton soberly.