Jack did not follow, but again started climbing.
“What a pity! Such easy meat!” Stew exclaimed.
“No dog fights!” Jack reminded him. “Besides, there are eight more Zeros coming up.”
“Let them come!” said Stew. “I’ll drop the belly tank on them.”
That was just what he did. When both they and their pursuers were well up in the substratosphere, he let go the empty tank and, with luck, tipped the wing of a fighter, sending him whirling over and over.
“Oh!” he breathed ten seconds later as the enemy righted himself. “We get no medals for belly tanks.”
As they climbed higher and higher their pursuers one by one dropped back, giving up the race. At last none remained.
“Their ships just can’t take it,” Jack explained. “Something freezes up and then they’re sunk.”
“Yes, or their propellers find the air too thin,” Stew added.
Tilting his plane, Jack drifted slowly downward while Stew reported to the radio cabin of the Black Bee.