“Going up yet!” he cried, and gestured.
Climbing! Climbing faster!
Bob opened his throttle steadily to the full capacity of the engine.
He proposed to gain all he could in speed, and that meant distance ahead of the other, while that other airplane climbed. He knew he could fly faster, on the level, than a climbing ship could, and he saw the other lights slowly becoming somewhat fainter, smaller.
But that did not last long.
In a few seconds the other ship leveled off and began to approach. Bob, craning his neck to get a sight of the other craft beyond his own wing spread, saw that the other man, evidently angling down and pointing directly for a position above him, meant to overtake him and was quite capable of doing it. He had superior experience and skill.
Bob realized quickly that the better part of valor in an airplane at night, under such conditions, was to give up.
“Or, at least to pretend to give up,” he reflected.
To carry out that pretence he reached into the signal light stores and selected a light. This he tossed back to Al.
His signal and his act were understood.