Slowly, moving with painful stiffness from the tight bandages and struggling for breath, Pitt rose to his feet and peered into the expanding cloud for signs of the Albatros. Shaken for a moment, his eyes darted too high, and he could see nothing but curling smoke; the plane and its pilot were gone. Then he realized what had happened. The brief lag between his shouted signal and the actual explosion saved the plane from instant disintegration. Swinging his gaze down to the horizon he spotted it. The craft was gliding clumsily through the air, its engine dead.

Pitt snatched at the binoculars and quickly sighted them on the Albatros. It was trailing smoke and fiery fragments in a meteoric trail. He watched in morbid fascination as one of the lower wings suddenly folded backward and fell away, causing the plane to tumble in a series of wild gyrations, like a piece of paper thrown from a high office building. Then it seemed to hang suspended for a moment before plunging into the sea, leaving a signature of smoke melting into the warm air.

"It's down," said Pitt excitedly. "We've scored."

Gunn was lying against the far bulkhead corner. He crawled across the deck and lifted his head dazedly. "How far and what heading?"

"About two miles abaft the starboard beam," replied Pitt. He lowered the glasses and looked at Gunn's pale face. "Are you all right?"

Gunn nodded. "Just lost a little wind, that's all."

Pitt smiled, but there was little humor in his eyes. He was smugly satisfied with himself, very pleased with the outcome of his plan. "Send the double-ender and some men out there to dive on the wreck. I'm anxious to find out what our ghost looks like."

"Of course," said Gunn. "I'll personally lead the diving party. But, only on one condition…you get your ass down to my cabin immediately. The doc hasn't finished with you yet."

Pitt shrugged, "You're the captain." He turned back to the rail and looked again at the spot that marked the grave of the yellow Albatros.

He was still at the rail ten minutes later when Gunn and four of the First Attempt's crew loaded their diving gear on the double-ender whaler and cast off. The little boat made no attempt to circle and search the general surface area but moved straight to the spot where the plane disappeared. Pitt watched until he could see the divers drop into the sparkling blue water at intervals to converge together underwater at the final resting place of the wreck.

"Come along, Major," said a voice at his elbow.

He slowly turned and looked into the face of the bearded doctor. "It's no use chasing me, Doc. I won't marry you," Pitt said, a wide grin riding his face.

The blue-eyed old ship's surgeon did not grin back. He merely pointed down the ladder at Gunn's cabin.