With Bauer dead and Stanley more comfortable, Blaine began looking over his machine. It seemed all right but for lack of petrol and wings being more punctured and ragged than usual.
"Where can I get petrol?" he more than once asked himself. "I could either get on myself and join our men, or get back to the station. But I can't leave Stanley. Hang it all! What'll I do?"
Lafe was about to give it up for the present, when Stanley from his recumbent position said:
"Why don't you try that Boche plane? Seems like I heard Bauer say something about petrol. Then he swore because he could not get up. I didn't know then it was Bauer."
"Right you are, Stan! Why didn't I think of that before? I hope the fall didn't smash their tank."
It so happened the tank was nearly all right, only a little of the oil having leaked out through a twisted nut. Blaine got busy and in ten minutes he had transferred the German petrol to his own tank, and thereupon felt, as be phrased it, quite "like a new man."
Meantime stray shells were falling here and there, but none within a dangerous margin. Still, it would be better to get somewhere else.
"Come on, Stan," said Blaine. "I don't like these stray duds and coal-boxes. One of them might drop too near. Let me put you back in your manhole."
Before this could be accomplished, Blaine heard another nearing noise, at first high up in the air. Looking up he saw a tiny burst of flame from a dark, swirling object that was plainly descending fast, then faster still.
"Why, that must be a falling plane!" he exclaimed. "It's coming down mighty close, too. What'd I better do?"