Then his eyes lifted and his entire expression changed.
“There is nothing on land or sea, sergeant,” he triumphantly asserted, “that can outspeed an aeroplane.”
CHAPTER XIV.
AGAIN ON THE WING.
Sergeant Strogoff’s elation over the solution of the pursuit problem was manifested by a sounding slap on his knee, forgetting that it was the leg most bruised by his recent fall, and his beaming face was comically twisted by a wince of pain.
“Have at them, chief!” he cried. “But we must appeal to the military authorities for the airships, and the experts to guide them. With your permission, sir, I will put the emergency to Colonel Malinkoff this very hour.”
The chief, undisturbed, checked this proposition of hasty action with a gesture of dissent.
“Daylight will do for that, sergeant, and a few hours more or less will not matter. With sixty or seventy miles an hour as our advantage, there is no question as to the outcome of the chase.”
The cold-gray eye of the chief, lighting upon the boys, standing with Strogoff’s comrades near the door, he imperiously demanded:
“Are these new recruits in your service, sergeant?”
“Bless me, sir,” quickly responded the officer addressed; “let me tell you that if it had not been for them I might have been filling an uncovered grave to-night.”