"Kenyon!" exclaimed the baronet.
"Sir?"
"We'll cut Panama," was Fosterdyke's astounding decision. "We'll carry straight away on. She's doing splendidly, shortage of brodium notwithstanding. We've plenty of fuel, so it's a dash for Madeira."
"How about reporting at the Panama control?" asked Kenneth.
"I'll risk omitting that," replied Sir Reginald. "Being mixed up in a potty revolution is quite sufficient excuse for non-compliance with regulations. It isn't as if we were bound to report ourselves, as in the case of Auckland. Bramsdean, you might ask the wireless operator to report us to Panama, and enquire if there's any news of our rivals. Last night's affair has given von Sinzig a very useful lead, I'm afraid."
Peter hastened to give the necessary orders. Presently he returned.
"No news of the Hun, sir," he reported. "The Yankee airship made a bad landing at Port Denison, Queensland, and was totally destroyed by fire."
"Hard lines," remarked Fosterdyke, feelingly. "Commodore Nye is a good sport. I hope he wasn't injured?"
"Far from it," replied Bramsdean. "In fact he's reported to have cabled to Melbourne asking the Victorian Government if they can sell him a Vickers-Vimy, so that he can continue the contest."
"Good luck to him, then!" exclaimed the baronet. "And the Jap?"