“We’ll put some miles between us and Romanovsk all right,” Rex laughed suddenly. “Listen, children. I’ve been keeping something up my sleeve since last night. You know I took a walk?”
They all looked up at him, eagerly. “Go on,” said Simon.
“Well, I had a hunch, and a darned fine hunch too; what do we want to monkey with a horse and sleigh for, when we’ve got a thousand aeroplanes sitting doing nothing within a mile?”
“You’re not serious, Rex,” protested De Richleau.
“I certainly am. I went out yesterday to take a look-see. One batch of those four-seater fighters is parked a whole half-mile from the barracks, and there’s only one sentry on every block of hangars. If we can nail him we’ll get a ’plane and be away before the guard turns out.”
“What about the — er — electric fence?” asked Simon, dubiously.
“I’ve thought of that — it isn’t higher than my chin. I’ll pitch you over one by one.”
“But yourself?” asked Marie Lou.
“Don’t worry about me. I wasn’t the big boy in the pole-jumping game at Harvard in my year for nix. I’d clear that fence with my hands tied.”
“It’s a ghastly risk.” The Duke shook his head. “To touch that fence is instant death. Besides, will there be petrol in the ’planes — enough to carry us any distance?”