"Do you mean before we leave the land, and commence our voyage across
the lake?" Frank inquired.
"Yes, that's it--more than half an hour, at the speed we're going now?"
continued the other.
"Just about, I should say," Frank replied, after carefully measuring
distances with his eye. "We are up pretty high, and can cover a
tremendous range, you know, so we first glimpsed the lake when we were a
long ways off. It may be all of forty miles away right now; and as we
must be clipping along at the rate of eighty, with the breeze favorable
behind us, why, half an hour ought to see us there."
Andy fell silent again.
Many times did his eyes travel from the distant water to the earth below
them; and then follow this up with an uneasy stare at the other
aeroplane that was flying along far ahead of them. The whole solution of
the problem of course lay in the hands of the man who controlled the
destinies of that stolen biplane. Would he really have the nerve to
attempt a flight across that great body of fresh water, aiming to land
on foreign shores, from which he could not easily be extradited?
Frank seemed to think that such was undoubtedly the intention of Casper
Blue, the little man who had been actor, aviator, and yeggman in turn,
during the course of his adventurous life.
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