"That's it," he said. "Something has broken. I can't imagine what it is, but there's no other way to explain the thing."
"Very well," rejoined Madeline, coolly, "let us, then, try to consider intelligently what will happen to them. Will they presently descend and alight upon the surface of the water?"
"I'm—I'm afraid not," Steve answered. "If that were possible, Orissa would have done it long ago. I think something has happened to affect the control, and therefore my sister is helpless."
"In that case, how long will they continue flying?" persisted Madeline.
"As long as the gasoline lasts—three or four hours."
"And how fast are they traveling, Mr. Kane?"
"I think at the rate of about forty-five miles an hour."
Miss Dentry made a mental calculation.
"Then they will descend about a hundred and fifty miles from here, in a straight line over that island," said she. "Having a boat under them, I suppose they will float indefinitely?"