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Away up the road, borne to her anxious ears by the howling wind, she heard two long and two short blasts of the flyer's whistle as she signalled for a crossing. God! would she ever get there. Straining every nerve, at last success was hers, and tottering, she struggled up the other side.
Any diner would have said that the good-looking boy in flyer's togs was listening with mental reservations, ready to argue a point, but nevertheless eager to hear the whole story. "I mean, what about the mechanic? Have you any contract with him, or are you tied up with him in any way? Can you get rid of him, in other words?"
He began to play with Tom's hair, smoothing it down pretty soon with the flyer's comb, which he discovered in a pocket. So handy was Grandpa with this utensil that the others went into peals of laughter. Tiring of this, the monkey's eye caught sight of several freckles upon the back of Tom's hand.
Her cheeks, already pale, grew white. I asked her the number of the space flyer's crew. She said ten. So far, four were dead, three alive, including myself, and the rest unaccounted for, I told her. She winced. In a moment, though, she pulled herself together with a grit which I could not deny, despite my disapproval of her being here.
When they were lost to view, the pilot made wider casts, and Travis thought the flyer's crew were probably in communication with the helmeted one of the quintet on the ground. He stirred. "They are heading for the Tatar camp, just as if they know exactly where it is " "That also may be true," Nolan replied. "What do we know of these Tatars?
Nor could they stop in midair. How in the world could they effect the hapless flyer's rescue? John circled at reduced speed while all of their minds were busy trying to work out the problem. In the meantime Torrey's frantic pleadings for them not to go away and leave him to his fate filled their ears. It was a trying, nerve-racking situation. Bob Giddings struck upon the first idea.
A huge round-house stood off to the right; half a dozen big headlights glared out at the shivering Eleanor like so many spying, accusing eyes. She knew that all trains stopped in Fenlock. Joe had told her that the flyer's pause was the briefest of any during the day or night; still she wondered if it would go thundering through and spoil everything.
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