"Well, I wouldn't bother about that. The fellow only has a revolver, if
I know the sound of one, and he could never reach us at this
distance. It tells me that he's got to about the limit and that
something is going to change pretty soon, mark my words, Andy."
Of course one of Frank's objects in saying this was to encourage his
chum, for he knew that in all probability Andy was getting pretty close
to what he himself would call a "blue funk."
Sure enough the reports continued until just six had reached their ears
faintly.
"That ends it," observed Frank, complacently.
"And he never touched us," echoed his cousin, evidently with more or
less relief.
"Now take a look back and see what they are doing, Andy."
"H'm! still coming right along at top-notch speed," replied the other.
"All right. There's going to be a change soon. Look down, Andy."
"Oh, Frank, what a dandy open space! If only that plagued biplane was in
Guinea, how easy we could spiral down and make a landing there!"
"Yes!" said Frank, "And, mark me, that is just what they intend
doing. As for us, we'll have to move along further into the wilderness
and hope that another chance will come to let us out before everything
is blotted from sight by utter darkness."
"Frank, they've just sighted the open spot!" cried Andy, a few seconds
later.
"All right, what did I say?" demanded his cousin.
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