The pilot executed the maneuver and Dr. Bird peered over the edge of the plane and directed the spectroscope toward the ground.
"Half a mile east," he said, "and drop another thousand. Carnes, get ready to jump when I give the word."
"Oh, Lord!" groaned Carnes as he fumbled for the rip cord of his parachute, "suppose this thing doesn't open?"
"They'll slide you between two barn doors for a coffin and bury you that way," said Dr. Bird grimly. "You know your orders, Maynard?"
"Yes, sir. When you drop, I am to land at the nearest town—it will be Lowell—and get in touch with the Commandant of the Portsmouth Navy Yard if possible. If I get him, I am to tell him my location and wait for the arrival of reenforcements. If I fail to get him on the telephone, I am to deliver a sealed packet which I carry to the nearest United States Marshal. When reenforcements arrive, either from the Navy Yard or from the Marshal, I am to guide them toward the spot where I dropped you and remain, as nearly as I can judge, two miles away until I get a further signal or orders from you."
"That is right. We'll be over the edge in another minute. Are you ready, Carnes?"
"Oh, yes, I'm ready, Doctor, if I have to risk my precious life in this contraption."
"Then jump!"
