“As soon as we saw your plane going down, I knew that something was wrong,” said Small. “Ordinarily you fellows don’t get down that low while you are out here. Then when you kept on going down, I told the crew to cut the target cable. They hacked it off with an axe and we went full steam ahead for the spot where you hit the water.”
“It’s lucky that you did, too,” replied Bill. “I was under the impression that a land plane would stay afloat for about four hours, but I know now that it won’t when it is damaged when it hits the water. That old bus did not float more than thirty minutes, if that long.”
“We timed it,” said Small. “It was just twenty minutes after you hit that we launched the small boat. Eight minutes later the plane was out of sight. I figure out that twenty-eight minutes covers the entire time that it was afloat.”
“The plane must have been more badly damaged than I thought,” commented Bill. “The landing gear must have torn off some of the fusilage when it hit. In any event, I am glad that you arrived when you did.”
The tug had almost reached the target by this time. The crew maneuvered until they came along side the target and then caught the loose end of the cable. It was a long, tedious job to pull the end of the cable from the bottom of the ocean, but was finally accomplished. Once more the target was being drawn through the water at the end of the cable and the tug headed back toward the bay.
“What did you do with my plane?” asked Batten when Bill arrived at the aviation field.
“Don’t you know?” asked Bill.
“We received a radio message from Breene telling us that you were going to land, but why pick out the ocean?” responded Batten.
“You talk as if I had landed in the water eight miles from shore through choice,” said Bill, somewhat peeved.
Bill was wet and most uncomfortable. He had been through a trying, nerve-racking experience and could not see that Batten was joking with him.