"Got you, you brute!" ejaculated Athol triumphantly as he gave a final wrench to the now secure nut.
The task accomplished it was no easy matter for the lad to regain the chassis. Temporarily exhausted with his exertions and buffeted by the cutting wind he lacked the strength to haul himself from the wing to the upper side of the fuselage; but Dick came to Athol's aid, and at length the lad was dragged into safety.
"Good man!" exclaimed Blake approvingly as he again actuated the wings.
There was little margin to spare. Already the battleplane had volplaned to within a thousand feet of the sea.
It was not until the mechanical bird had regained her former altitude that her crew were able to discuss the factor that had carried them so far out of their course. An explanation was necessary in order to explain satisfactorily why, instead of being over the province of Courland, the airmen found themselves miles from land and over the expansive Baltic.
CHAPTER XIX
A DUEL WITH A ZEPPELIN
"The gale must have backed to the south'ard," explained Desmond Blake. "It has carried us well northward of our proper course. There's a large vessel almost immediately beneath us, Athol. Get your binoculars and see if you can make out her nationality, and, what is equally important, the direction of the wind."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Athol, after a brief investigation. "It is not a vessel—it's a Zepp. She's not so very far above the surface; I can tell that by the position of her shadow on the waves."