"Our great mistake," continued Sybil, as they swept along, "was in not rigging the machine with a wireless outfit. To be sure, neither of us could operate it; but a wireless, in such a case—if we understood its mysteries—would solve our problem."
"How?" asked Orissa.
"We could call up the shore at San Diego and tell them what's happened, and give them the direction in which we are flying; then they could send a fast steamer for us, or perhaps Madeline Dentry would loan her yacht."
"They may follow us with a steamer, anyhow," said Orissa, thoughtfully. "If we manage to land safely, Sybil—which means if we drop to the water right-side-up—we could float for some days, until we were found and rescued."
"Thirst is a terrible thing, at sea; and hunger is almost as bad."
"But in that dreadful chest, which has caused all our trouble, Steve told me he had packed provisions. Probably there is water there, too," asserted Orissa, hopefully.
"Yes, Dad said there was lunch for two. Well, that's one good feed we shall have, anyhow, provided the chest doesn't get away from us entirely, and we can manage to open it. In its present position, neither event is at all probable."
She seemed to love to discover and point out the gloomy side of their adventure, that she might exult in the dangers that menaced them.
Meantime, swift and straight as an arrow the Aircraft continued on its course. Not a skip to the engines, not an indication of any sort that the flight would be interrupted as long as a drop of gasoline remained in the tanks. They could only be patient and await the finale as bravely as possible.