d at cribbing some of
their gas juice."

While Jack did not claim to be an expert at the business of transferring
petrol from one tank to another, or into a gaping vessel, he believed he
would be able to manage. They must get what they needed, if not one way,
then through other means. Necessity knows no law, and their very lives,
certainly their liberty, was placed in peril by this impotence on the
part of their plane.

Jack kept mumbling softly to himself as he worked. He seemed at first to
meet with considerable difficulty, judging from the tone of his
muttering. In fact, Tom had even turned to offer his assistance when he
plainly caught the gurgle of running fluid and immediately sniffed the
air strongly impregnated with the odor of petrol.

That told the story. While Jack continued to grumble he was actually
acquitting himself with credit. So Tom chose not to interfere, but
allowed his comrade to finish the work.

Once he thought he heard a gruff voice from somewhere over the wall of
the chateau. He even feared they would be interrupted by the coming of
the chauffeurs, who may have received word from their masters that a
start was about to be made.

This, however, greatly to Tom's relief, proved to be a false alarm, for
no one appeared. But there was Jack muttering again.

"Got every drop of juice this tank holds, Tom, and still not as much as
I'd like to carry back. Shall I tackle the other car? I'd like to clean
both of 'em out while about it, even if I have to waste some. Might save
us heaps of trouble later on, if they were stalled here."

"Please yourself, but hurry above all things," Tom begged him.

"Just getting the hang of things now, and the second one will go a lot
better than the first," Jack assured him.

Finally the work was accomplished. Jack seemed proud of his ability to
purloin the badly needed stock of petrol. He chuckled as he turned to
Tom to announce that he was through.

"Oh, me! Oh, my! But won't there be a hopping mad crowd around here when
they find out that their gas tanks are both empty? By then I hope we'll
be merrily on our way to camp, able to snap our fingers at the raging
Boche, and with a little passenger aboard our plane. Back to the graves
for us it is, Tom. Time for all spooks to climb into their holes again
and disappear."

"Keep quiet, can't you, Jack!" whispered Tom. "You'll queer the whole
business yet if you don't watch out. Come on, and don't leave a trail of