"Looks pretty badly battered, at that," said Don, opening the fusilage and gazing downward. "Fred, let me have the glasses, will you?"
He took the powerful glasses and for a moment gazed downward. Then he began to laugh. "They're sizing us up the same way," he chuckled. "Guess we do look strange to them, away out here."
In another moment something happened which made them all sit up and take notice. There was a puff of smoke, a faint report, and a bullet whizzed through the air not more than fifteen yards away from them.
"Holy smoke!" shouted Andy. "It's all clear now. That's the ship that Braizewell's wireless was talking to. They take us for air pirates with stolen government papers."
In another instant they shot upward at amazing speed, in a zigzag course.
"Haven't got the time or inclination to argue it out with them," said Jack, "although if they don't keep that pop gun still we'll turn our nose down and let 'em have a volley, just by way of a return salute. They can't maneuver out of the way as we can."
But by now they not only were out of range of the gun on the ship, but also almost out of sight of the vessel's crew.
"Ta, ta, Jenny," Andy waved over the side, in mock misery at parting company. "See you later where the grass is greener."
At an altitude of nearly two miles they were skimming through the air at something more than a hundred miles an hour when Fred again uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"What now?" Don demanded.