“Might—be.”

“If—it—is—we—win.”

“If—we—live—through,—yes.”

There was silence. But again there came a sound from the tube. This time it was not Pant, but the stranger who rode behind Johnny. Johnny started; he had quite forgotten him.

“What—what is it?” he stammered.

“Thought—I—ought—to—tell—you.” The voice was low and subdued, like a parson reading the funeral service at a grave.

“Tell—me—what?” Johnny asked, bewildered.

“About—the—wreck. Why—we—are—going—”

But at that instant there came a blinding flash, a deafening roar, and the plane seemed to leap into midair, like a rowboat hit by a fifty-pound projectile.

CHAPTER X
THE TASTE OF SALT SEA WATER