“There are only two of us, my pal and I,” Jack said to the girl after a time. “We may get into a tight spot any time!”
“Oh, you are in a tight spot right now!”
In the meantime, some distance to the south, things were happening on the dark waters of night. Catching the drone of airplane motors and recognizing them as those used in U. S. fighter planes, Ted on his raft had become greatly excited. That’s Kentucky and my other pals, he thought. They’re out looking for me. How can I signal to them?
A flare. The thought came to him at once. In his emergency outfit were matches in a sealed tin. With trembling fingers he opened the can.
But what could he use for a torch? He thought of his gony. Its feathers would burn. But no. He couldn’t do that. His parachute? Yes, it would burn. But what a waste. If other things failed, he’d use it. But meanwhile he’d tie his shirt to one of the paddles and light it. He wadded it tightly around the paddle blade so it would burn for some time. He lighted it, and moved it about in the air.
“It makes so little light. They’ll never see it,” he despaired.
But they did see it. Soon Kentucky came zooming down while the others circled above him.
“Boy! Am I glad to see you!” Ted put out a hand to Kentucky when the plane was down and he had paddled to it.
“That makes two of us!” Kentucky gripped his hand excitedly.
“I’ll be with the old Black Bee after all when we make that big push!” Ted exulted.