But now Dick was gaining control once more and he tilted the front rudder and up they went for a hundred feet, but in something of a circle, because of the broken plane.
"Can't you land?" gasped Tom. "We can't—can't—stand—this!"
"I'll do what I can," replied Dick, between his set teeth. He knew that their very lives depended on how he handled the biplane.
Slowly and with great caution Dick allowed the Dartaway to get closer to the earth. Each of the boys strained his eyes, to catch sight of what might be below. Then came another gust, and this was followed by a strange rattling on the biplane. Small, white objects were bouncing in all directions.
"It's hail!" cried Sam. "We've struck a hail squall!"
He was right, and the hail continued to come down all around them, driven by a sweeping wind that carried the Dartaway hither and thitker. But it was one of those sudden squalls that do not last long, and soon they were sailing in the clear air again, and now within view of the ground below.
"There is a fine field—to the right," cried Tom.
Dick nodded and, not without an effort, brought the biplane around. Then he shut off the motor,
