Quickly Johnnie looked aloft again. He stared through the fog banks. Dimly he saw something glowing. He watched, breathless. Almost instantly the glow over his head became two luminous spots in the mist. They grew brighter fast. Now Johnnie was certain he knew what he was looking at. The luminous spots were the landing lights of a descending plane. They seemed to be jumping right at him. Johnnie knew the plane was coming straight toward him. It was almost upon him. He leaped to one side. He was not a moment too soon. The descending plane swished past him, seemed to rise lightly, then leveled off, hit the ground heavily, bounced, came to earth again, and went rolling and jolting straight across the landing field. Johnnie raced after the ship. It came to rest. A figure stepped from the cabin. Johnnie raced toward the man. “Hello!” he cried. “Hello yourself,” came the answer. “Who are you?” “This is Johnnie. Thank God you got down safe.” They clasped hands and stood silent. CHAPTER VII A Forced Landing in a Fog For a second the two old friends held each other’s hand. Then some one was heard running toward them. A man appeared in the fog. “It’s the man who looks after the field,” said Johnnie, as soon as he could distinguish the approaching figure. “I suppose he heard you land and has come to help.” The man rushed up. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. “Did you get down without much damage?” “Don’t believe I broke a thing,” said Jimmy. “You know my plane is built with unusually strong underpinning. Let’s take a look at her.” Johnnie’s bonfire gave them enough light to see by. Quickly they examined the plane. Nothing was wrong externally. “Let’s take a look at the oil line,” said Jimmy. “Something went wrong with it.” He reached into his plane and drew out his flash-light. “Hold it,” he said, shoving it into Johnnie’s hand. Then he turned and opened the cowling of his engine. With practiced eye he glanced along the length of the oil line. At first nothing wrong was apparent. But on the bottom of the engine compartment was a telltale pool of oil. Jimmy twisted his head and got a look at the underside of the oil line. The pipe was cracked open along the seam. The crack extended for several inches. Practically all the oil had dripped from the engine. “Vibration must have done that,” said Jimmy, as he turned to his companions and explained what was wrong. “Likely it happened when I went west this afternoon, for I flew the ship pretty hard. I suppose the seam gave way then, and the hard trip to-night has opened it up. Have you got any tire tape, Johnnie?” “Plenty of it,” said Johnnie. “I’ll fetch you some.” “Bring all you can get,” shouted Jimmy after the fast-disappearing Johnnie. “And arrange for some oil. I’ll need a lot. Hurry as fast as you can, Johnnie. I mustn’t lose a minute.”