“Bravo! Bravo!” he exclaimed involuntarily.
The next instant the plane tipped back into position, the engines roared, he felt her turn and knew that Pant had set her head-on against the storm.
He listened to the roar of the engines and thrilled at the battle as he felt the shock of the storm.
Suddenly, as the sheet-lightning flashed, he saw a dark object pass his window, then another.
“The parachutes!” he exclaimed in consternation. He put his lips to the tube: “Storm—tore—the—parachutes—away.”
“I—know,” came back from Pant. “No—good—now,—anyway. Can’t—land.”
Then at the very thought, Johnny laughed. On a calm sea the parachutes might save them; in such a storm, never.
“Saw—a—ship—down—there. See—her?” he asked a moment later.
“Yes.”
“Think—that’s—the—ship—we’re—racing?”