“He’s going to try and get back over the border,” Captain Brice shouted turning his head.
For a moment Jack looked downward. They were about three thousand feet high and below he could see the tumbling waters of the ocean. He was unable to repress a shudder as the thought of what would happen should anything go wrong with the plane came to him.
“Guess it would be no worse than dropping on the land though,” he thought as he looked ahead once more.
As he kept his eyes on the plane ahead it was soon evident to the boy that they were doing little if any better than holding their own.
Captain Brice again turned his head.
“It’s might queer,” he shouted. “I thought I had the fastest flyer in the country but that fellow’s got one just as fast and I’m not sure but what he can beat us.”
Glancing down again Jack saw that they were once more over the land. So far as he could judge their relative position did not change a particle during the next hour.
“We must be nearly up to Canada,” he thought.
For some time the smuggler had been increasing his altitude and now as Jack glanced down he was hardly able to see the earth.
“I think we’re gaining a bit,” Captain Brice shouted.