But the shock did not come.
“As you are,” he heard Pant breathe at last. “No, I think you might circle a bit. Looks like we’re over a meadow. Not a bad landing-place. They’ve taken to their parachutes. Their plane’s on fire, but she’ll carry on a mile or two before she drops.”
“Their plane’s on fire!” Pant had said it in such a composed tone of voice that one might think it quite the thing to expect at this juncture.
Glancing back, Johnny saw him struggling to replace something beneath his leather coat. It looked like a long black leather case.
With trembling hands he set the plane to circle downward, to follow the burning plane, which was now careening wildly. Some two miles back the two parachutes of the others, white specks against the blue, were nearing the ground.
“We’ll just have a look at their plane and be away again before they arrive,” suggested Pant. “Their fuselage is of sheet-steel. It won’t burn. There may be something of interest in the seat or somewhere.”
Johnny did not fully approve of this maneuver. Yet, since Pant was in charge of this expedition, he proceeded to put the suggestion into execution.
* * * * * * * *
“Here’s what I found in that plane.” Pant drew some jagged bits of rusty metal from a canvas bag. It was four hours after the burning of the blue racer. The two boys had made a landing near the wreck, and Pant had hurried over there, to return with two objects which he found in the seat: a canvas sack and a pair of gloves.
They were now safe on the landing-field of the factory. They were “home.” Their journey and its dangers at an end, they were resting on the grass for a few moments before going to report to their employer.