“It’s our only chance.” In vain Jack tried to get more power from his disabled motor. It coughed, sputtered—all but died—then carried on.
Heading due east, he started to climb. He had gained a thousand feet or more when he began losing again.
“Look over your parachute,” he said to Stew. “Be sure you can get hold of our rubber raft at a second’s notice. This motor may die at any moment.”
“It’s all done,” said Stew. “All in order. Let’s have a look at your chute.” He worked over Jack’s chute and harness. “It’s okay. Be sure to pull the cord,” he joked. “That’s always a necessity, you know.”
“Sure I know,” Jack’s voice was cheerful. “I’m glad we got our job done before this thing happened.”
“The sea’s fairly smooth. We’ll get on. Some kind of a bird will light on us. They always do—booby, gull—something.”
“Sure, they light on anything that stands out above the water.” Jack set his ship climbing again. They were inside the rain squall. From not too far away came the sound of sudden battle.
“Zeros and our fighters have tangled.” Stew became tremendously excited. “Boy! This is going to be terrific! Wish we could see it!”
“Like taking in a world-series game from behind a high board fence,” Jack agreed. “But leave it to our bombers!”
“They’re sure good! They took that other carrier we discovered a week ago.”