CHAPTER 11WORRALS TAKES A TRIP
Sunrise the following morning found them all out on the landing ground, examining the track carefully for signs of the night’s operations, and, when they found them, obliterating them. Oil stains were carefully rubbed out, and the grass, where it had been crushed by wheels, was brushed up. They were still engaged in this work when the drone of an aircraft sent them racing for the cover of the rocks.
“Messerschmitt 109,” murmured Frecks, her eyes on a speck in the sky. “What’s he after?”
“From the way he’s flying I should say he’s looking for something,” reasoned Worrals, slowly. “Probably looking for the Messerschmitt 110.”
“In that case he can hardly fail to see it,” returned Frecks. “Yes, he’s spotted it—did you see him turn this way? Now he’s cut his e
