“What time did Captain Smith come through?” asked Bill.
“It must have been around eleven o’clock. It was before lunch anyhow. They all went into town for lunch and left here about one-thirty.”
“The lucky dogs,” said Bill. “We haven’t had any lunch so far, and from all indications we will not get any. Fill us up as soon as you can, for I want to make Eugene this afternoon.”
In a short time the pilots and mechanics were busily engaged in filling the tanks in the planes. Some pumped gasoline into the tanks, while others put in oil. The water in the radiators was checked, inspections made of the various parts of the planes and everything possible done to insure a safe trip into Eugene.
“How long a hop to get in?” asked Bob Finch.
“Just sixty miles,” replied Bill. “We ought to make it in forty minutes easily. There’s nothing to the trip now, for we can follow the railroad if we have to.”
“I surely was surprised when you went into the clouds back there,” said Bob. “I was following right on your tail and looked around to see how close the other planes were. When I again looked to see your plane, it was gone. Then I saw that tunnel and I didn’t know what had become of you. I soon figured it out that you had hopped the ridge. I had no idea how high that range was when I went into those clouds, but I hoped for the best.”
“I couldn’t very well turn around,” said Bill. “There wasn’t room enough. I had no other choice.”
“The planes are all serviced,” said Batten, who had just walked along the line of planes.
“We will take off in ten minutes. Same formation,” replied Bill.