Johnny and Pant held a long consultation. The undertaking was a serious one. Could it be that the stranger knew the type of engine their plane carried? His mission must indeed be an important one if a mere landsman, accustomed to neither the sea nor the air, would attempt such a perilous flight to accomplish it.
“What can it be?” Johnny demanded of Pant.
“Can’t tell. Some treasure on the ship, perhaps.”
“But the ship and the cargo belong to the men who have gone to strip the wreck, don’t they?”
“Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps, at least, not all.”
“Well, if you are ready to undertake it, I am.”
“You’re on!” exclaimed Pant, gripping Johnny’s hand. “It will be a wonderful test for our motors.”
“And I don’t think our contortionist friend can follow us,” smiled Johnny.
Twenty hours later, after having covered fifteen hundred miles in steady flight, they realized that it was indeed to be a wonderful test for their motors, and to them as well; a test out of which they might never emerge.
They were sailing high over a boundless expanse of water, when Johnny suggested that they drop to the level of the sea and rest their motors for an hour as they drifted, sea-gull-like, on the surface of the gently heaving ocean.
“Perfectly calm down there,” he called through his speaking-tube.
“Guess so.” Pant, who was acting as pilot, set her nose downward and slowed his engine for volplaning.
As they neared the surface of the water, an exclamation of surprise escaped Pant’s lips.
“Why, she’s rolling in great billows. Not a breath of air, either!”
Pant gave one look at the barometer. Instantly his face clouded.
“Didn’t know the glass could drop so low,” he mumbled. “Nasty weather coming. Can’t float on that water. Better climb back up.”
Slowly the plane climbed skyward again. When she had reached a high altitude, with the suddenness of thought she ceased to climb.
It was as if she had run, head on, into an immense filmy veil of silk that hung from the high heavens, its fringe touching the sea. The veil was dark, the darkness of midnight blue. It seized the plane and set it twirling, whirling, pitching, plunging. It was as if a giant hand had seized the veil from above and twisted it, as one twists a damp towel to wring it.