Pudge started to feel himself all over. He ran his hands along his fat sides, and then down each leg; after which he proceeded to announce the result.
“Nope, don’t seem to have any serious contusions or broken bones that I’ve been able to find. Guess I’m all whole, Frank, as I hope the rest of you are. But how about the poor old Sea Eagle; is she smashed beyond repair, do you think, Frank?”
“I haven’t taken a look at her so far,” the other told him. “What little damage may have been done can be easily repaired, once we get her taken by wagon to our hangar at Dunkirk.”
“We’re being fired on.... Try and find shelter if you can, Billy!”—Page [251].
“Good enough!” cried Pudge. “I was worrying more over the seaplane than about myself, I do declare. When we can get in touch with the commander at this section of the British forces, we might be able to commandeer some sort of wagon on which the machine can be packed, after we’ve taken it to pieces, and transported it to town. Our good friend, M’sieu Le Grande can tell them the plane now belongs to the French Government, and that a heap depends on its being taken to Dunkirk.”
As they reached the spot where the big seaplane lay like a wounded bird, it was to see the Frenchman and Billy come crawling out from under the wings.
“What’s the extent of the damage?” asked Frank immediately.
Before Billy could start explaining, there was a sharp sound heard, and Frank actually felt the wind of a bullet whizzing past his cheek.
“Duck down everybody!” he exclaimed, suiting his actions to the words, and pulling Pudge after him. “We’re being fired on by somebody concealed in that old windmill base over there. Try and find shelter if you can, Billy!”