"I feel like I had been hauled through the lower regions by a nightmare," complained Billy, as he later sat with Roque, Schneider and his chum in the Steiber Coffee house.
"I will say," confessed Schneider, "that I never hit the wind so hard before in my flying experience. My eyes must look like two burned holes in a blanket."
"I might say, Schneider," remarked Roque, "that if it had not been for that timely fog you would have hit the ground harder than you ever did before. Those gunners on the hill could not have missed us if given fair sight."
"It has just occurred to me that they came pretty close, anyhow."
"They sure did, Buddy," laughed Billy, following this assertion by his chum. "I almost collided with a shell that sounded like a dozen factory whistles. By the way, Mr. Roque," he continued, "it looks like you were tied up here for some time to come. I don't see any way out of it."
"Do not lose any sleep over that problem, young man; if we got in we can get out. You ought to know by this time that there is always a hole in the air that cannot be blocked."
"You bet he's right," exclaimed Schneider, slapping his knee for emphasis.
"Hustle for bed, all of you, and stay there until you are called."
With this the chief faced the fire and lighted one of his big, black cigars. He had some thinking to do.
The boys were awakened the next morning by gunfire.