Ralph made a brave effort to get to his feet and with Tim supporting him stumbled on. Clouds of smoke billowed around them, filling their lungs, and waves of heat beat down upon them as the wind swept the fire nearer and nearer.
With cries of relief they staggered into the small, level place where they had left the Good News. The biplane was waiting for them, eager to sweep them up into the air and away from the fire.
The boys tumbled into their places and Tim snapped on the switches. The motor coughed once or twice and then roared into its sweet, even song of power.
There was no time to turn the plane around, no time to wonder if there was room to take off. There was only time for one thing; to jam the throttle wide open, send the Good News roaring down the wind and hope that she would lift clear of the brush when the time came.
Ralph snapped on his safety belt and Tim secured himself in his own cockpit. Then they were off, rocketing over the uneven ground as the plane gained speed. The powerful motor shattered the heavens with its defiance of the flame and smoke billowing after and lifted the plane clear of the tangled underbrush which raised its arms in a futile effort to entangle the plane.
The boys filled their lungs with the clear, pure air of the upper regions as the Good News started on the return trip to Atkinson. Both Ralph and Tim were busy thinking of the recent events and of their discoveries at the scene of the wrecked car. They were thankful for their escape, narrow though it had been, from the brush fire.
When they landed at their home field Tim went straight to the administration building and telephoned news of the fire to the state conservation office where steps would be taken to send men to fight the flames.
After seeing that the Good News was properly cared for the boys returned to the News office.
Captain Raymond was waiting for them.
“What news?” he asked eagerly.