Roy slackened a little.
'Much damage?' he asked curtly.
'Holed her badly,' Ken answered. 'She's leaking like a sieve.'
'Rotten luck!' growled Roy. 'And just as we'd dodged the blighters. Can
you do anything with it?'
'Ram a handkerchief in--that's all. Of course, I can bale.'
'Well, keep her afloat as long as you can. It won't be exactly healthy if
we have to land anywhere here. All forts, isn't it?'
'Yes, down as far as Tekeh. Not that the forts will do us any harm, even
if they're warned. We're too small and too close in for gun fire. But
there's no place to land for nearly two miles--not until you get to what
they call the Fountain.'
Apparently the forts were not warned. As the 'Triumph' had been slamming
12-inch shells into them only the previous night, the chances were that
the telephone wires were cut. Roy kept going with long steady strokes,
while Ken, working even harder, baled frantically the whole time.
So they drove on without speaking for about a quarter of an hour.
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