We c'n play that this is a war game, and we've been sent out to drop
bombs on the fortifications of the enemy. We've done it with rocks, and
we can throw pretty straight; so it seems to me we ought to get some
sort of fun out of it all around."
Frank told him where he could find the written messages in his outer
pocket; and for some time Andy was quiet, busying himself in fastening
some sort of anchor to each piece of paper, sufficient to carry it
earthward, despite the breeze that at the time might be blowing.
All at once Andy noticed that they were going quite slowly in comparison
with the pace they had lately been "hitting up."
"What's happening, Frank?" he exclaimed, almost alarmed lest some
accident had befallen the reliable little motor, which up to now had
never failed them, no matter how great the call upon its resources. "Why
are we slowing up? Is there something gone wrong, and must we own up to
being beaten?"
"Look ahead at the biplane!" was all that Frank replied.
CHAPTER XIX
DROPPING A "BOMB!"
"Oh! we've started to swoop down on them! Honest to goodness, I don't
believe they're more 'n half as far ahead as they were, Frank!" cried
Andy, thrilled by the sight of the other biplane being so near.
"Just about that," said Frank, quietly, the busy motor having decreased
its merry hum, so that they could talk without raising their voices very
much.
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