“Here comes another ’plane!” Sandy called out, taking the flashlamp from Jeff again as the older pilot handed it back. “He’s flying right after us.”
They all located the drone of the other engine.
“Steady, Larry!” Jeff cautioned. “Hold as you are. That-there is our amphibian—and I reckon the boss is doing the control job.”
The amphibian, as they made out its pontoon understructure, came fairly close alongside. Its speed was almost identical with their own and at first all four occupants of the land crate wondered who was in it, and why.
“Signaling!” cried Larry, cutting the gun and turning to observe.
“All right, buddy,” admonished Jeff. “Stick to your job. Sandy or Dick will read the dots and dashes—if he’s using Morse code——”
“He is spelling out something with his flashlight,” Sandy decided, as he saw short flickers and longer dashes of light while the amphibian kept a course within close range but at safe wing distance.
“I’ve got it!” Dick passed forward his paper.
“‘G-i-v-e r-e-p-o-r-t,’” Sandy read, and as he handed Jeff the note, Sandy, using his own light, sent back the Morse code answer:
“Man swimming ashore with life belt.”