e crash impact wouldn't be too violent. In
his heart he knew that he stood but one chance in a thousand of coming
out of the crash uninjured. But there was no other way out, the die had
been cast. The engine had been hit and was dead. There was only one way
to go, and that was down.

On impulse he jerked his head around and looked back. It seemed as
though he had not heard Freddy's voice in a year or more, and sudden
panic swept through him. Was Freddy all right? Had he been hit, and was
that why he had not spoken? In the brief instant it took to jerk his
head around and look back, Dave died a hundred agonizing deaths.

Luck, however, was still riding the cockpits with them. The English
youth was still alive, and very much so, too. His lips were drawn back
in a tight grin even though his face was white, and there was a sort of
glazed, glassy look in his eyes. Being a pilot, himself, Freddy knew
exactly what it was all about. He had sense enough not to try any back
seat driving in the emergency. He was leaving everything to Dave, and
trusting in his friend's judgment. He sat perfectly still in the seat,
his arms half raised and ready to throw them across his face when they
hit in order to protect himself as much as possible.

Sitting still and showing his faith in Dave by the tight grin on his
lips. That realization gave Dave new courage as he turned front again.
The ground was just under his wheels, now. He would not under-shoot the
field, nor would he over-shoot it either. He had proved his flying skill
thus far. The rest was ... was in the lap of the gods!

Ten feet off! Nine feet, eight ... seven ... six! He was hugging the Dep
wheel now all the way back against his stomach to bring the nose up just
a few more inches before the ship stalled and dropped. His whole body
sensed that moment of stalling; that moment when the lift of the wings
was absolutely nil. He sensed it now and instantly let go of the stick,
buried his head in his arms, and let his whole body go limp.

For two seconds, or perhaps it was for two long years, the Arado seemed
to hang motionless in the air. Then suddenly it dropped belly first like
a rock. The wheels hit hard and the ship was bounced back up into the
air again. It hit again, and bounced again. It hit once more and Dave
felt the tail wheel catch on something and send the ship plunging
crazily off to the right. He jammed hard on the left rudder to
counteract the movement, but it was to