“Yes, for all she’s worth!” added poor Pudge, as well as he could, for his trembling lips made any sort of utterance difficult.
Frank had not waited for this to turn on all power. At the time of the discovery, with regard to the loss of their precious liquid fuel, the seaplane had been headed just right, so all that appeared necessary was increased motion.
The motors responded to the call upon their reserve powers. Again, with muffler cut-out wide open, and the green fire issuing from the exhausts amidst a roaring sound, they rushed through space.
What speed they were making none of them thought to notice by glancing at the aërial speed meter, but it must have been something like ninety miles an hour at the very least, possibly much more.
Here was another supreme test which the French aviator must be sure and take note of. He did not show any particular signs of alarm, though he was plainly excited.
Everyone was gazing ahead, their only aim being that they speedily arrive at the line where the gray-clad Germans were standing off the khaki-clothed soldiers of King George.
Such was the state of their nerves, that seconds seemed to drag like minutes. Billy was trying the best he could to focus his glasses so as to announce the glad tidings that they were rapidly nearing their goal; but he found it hard work because of the shaking of the seaplane under the forced pressure.
“It’s there just ahead of us, Frank!” he finally shouted. “Keep her going only a little while longer, and we’ll be all right!”
“Hurrah!” cried Pudge, rather feebly it must be confessed, for the wind fairly took his breath away.
Frank had not only kept straight on but at the same time he was commencing to head downward. There was a strong possibility that at any second the motors might refuse to work, being deprived of their feed, and in consequence the big seaplane would have to start earthward by the method popularly known as volplaning.