“Then get one out!” advised Ben.
“They’re on the Ann!” explained Glenn. “If you remember we put the spark plugs and a few other things of that sort on the Louise and put the turn-buckles on the Ann.”
“Now, you wait a minute,” Mr. Havens advised. “Perhaps I can use the old turn-buckle on the sharp threads of the Louise and put the one which belongs there in the place of this worn one. Sometimes a transfer of that kind can be made to work in emergencies.”
“That’ll be fine!” exclaimed Ben. “I remember seeing that tried myself. I’ll hold the light while you take the buckle off the Louise.”
Ben turned his flashlight on the guy wires and the aviator began turning the buckle. The wires were very taut, and when the last thread was reached one of them sprang away so violently that the turn-buckle was knocked from his hand. The next moment they heard it rattling in the gorge below.
Mr. Havens sat flat down on the shelf of rocks and looked at the parted wires hopelessly. The boys had nothing to say.
“Well,” the millionaire said presently, “I guess we’re in for a good long cold night up in the sky.”
“Did you ever see such rotten luck?” demanded Glenn.
“Cheer up!” cried Ben. “We’ll find some way out of it.”
“Have you got any fish-lines, boys?” asked the aviator.