“It is injured somewhat,” Frank continued, “though we might manage to repair that part of it; but unfortunately it is next to impossible for a seaplane to rise anywhere but from the water. That is on account of the boat part of the structure, you understand, sir. Could you manage to secure us a motor truck to transport ourselves and the machine across country by road? It would be doing the French Government one of the greatest favors possible; ask M’sieu here if that is not so.”
“Indeed, there could not be a greater favor,” the Frenchman declared warmly. “I have seen to-day that which may help to bring this terrible war to a much speedier close if only we can put fifty of those wonderful American machines in the field.”
“Say no more, for I shall see to it that the motor truck is placed at your service,” said the captain heartily.
“But how about the windmill, Captain?” asked Frank, “and the Germans who occupy it as a fort; will you attack them and capture the place? It commands the spot where the stranded seaplane lies, and I’m afraid we can do but little unless the danger is laid.”
“We will go back the way you came,” decided the soldier. “I will have my men accompany us, and when we reach a convenient place a rush should take the mill.”
“I’ll go along with you then, Captain,” assented Frank.
“Same here,” added Billy; but Pudge shook his head sadly, and reaching down felt tenderly of his knees, as he remarked:
“You’ll have to excuse me this time, fellows; I must beg off. After it’s all over give me a whoop, and I’ll walk to where you are. Crawling doesn’t seem to be my special forte, I’m sorry to say.”
“That’s all right, Pudge, stay here until we give you the signal that the coast is clear,” Billy told him.
Orders being given to the soldiers, the entire lot started toward where the dip began. A few minutes later they were making their way along on hands and knees, and appearing to the observant Pudge very much like a trailing snake.