"What became of the machine?" was Alfred's next question.
"I don't remember anything about it," was the reply, "but they told me it made fine kindling wood."
"Too bad!" consoled Alfred. "I liked that little Morane; and to think it's all broken up."
"How did you get here?" asked Tom.
"Why, we came down with the Red Cross people," explained Ralph.
"You seem to get into all sorts of trouble, all along the line," said Tom with an attempt to laugh.
"But are you badly hurt?" inquired Alfred anxiously.
"The doctors say that there are only a few bones broken, several joints wrenched out of shape, and some of the bark peeled off, but I ought to be out in a few weeks," said Tom.
"Tell us what we ought to do now?" Alfred asked him.
"What do you mean?"