Johnny’s lips were pressed to the speaking-tube. “We’re in for it!” he shrilled to his pal.
“Yes?” came back from Pant.
“How you standing it?”
Pant retorted with a grim chuckle:
“Not so bad. Pretty wet out here.”
“What—what’ll we do?”
“Going to climb. Top to this thing somewhere, maybe. Nobody knows, though. It’s a typhoon. Always wanted to see what a plane’d do in a typhoon.”
“You’ll see, but never tell, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“Look out—here she comes again! It’s—”