Stoutly he tried to make the small open space around this half ruined
hovel. Almost he made, it. But just beyond a crumbling stone wall,
that once must have been the enclosure of a tidy yard, the tail of his
machine dipped all at once. It struck the wall, causing the heavier
bow, weighted with the propellers, the petrol tank and the machinery,
to crash downward with force.

The recoil sent Blaine, now at the last physical gasp, plunging forward
over the almost perpendicular machine. He struck the earth heavily,
and lay there almost insensible, while the vanquished plane fell
sideways, striking wall and ground, then, with a last respiration not
unlike that of its master, it lay still, a wreck for the time being.

From out the house two skirted figures ran, figures in nurse's attire,
with the omnipresent red cross blazoned conspicuously on their
white-capped headgear.

"Oh, Andra, Andra!" cried the first to the one following. The last
cast a swift glance back inside the cabin. Then she, too, hurried to
the prostrate form lying beside the wrecked machine.





CHAPTER X

A QUICK CONVALESCENCE