human
I say, Jack!
gpt
What's eating you, buddy?
human
Did yeou hear it?
gpt
You mean that sound in the fog pack, don't you?
human
Yeah, yeou said it, partner--I kinder guess naow it was a ship up here in this same sea we're buzzin' through, don't yeou?
gpt
Couldn't be anything else, because we're thousands of feet away from ground,
human
As haow would yeou make it eout to be--some bewildered air-mail pilot loose in his bearin's, and shootin' ahead, thinkin' he could get somewhere right speedy, so's to find his course agin?
gpt
Not any, Perk; and you'll realize that much if you figure things out in a matter-of-fact way. They don't have greenhorns in the air-mail service, or carrying passengers on the big lines--every applicant for a job has got to have a thousand hours at least in the air, and even at that he isn't reckoned to have won his spurs. If such an experienced flier got balled up in this fog blanket he'd do just what we're carrying out--depend utterly on his instruments. His compass would tell him he could never regain his course by flying _due east_!
human
That's what he's adoin' then, yeou figger, eh, Jack?
gpt
Sure thing, boy--he's directly behind us, and getting closer right along, for the sounds keep growing louder.
human
Guess that's so, partner--I kinder had an idee he was on aour tail. What's the answer, Jack?
gpt
Another dive, maybe two in fact, so as to leave him this ceiling to himself. We can climb again, buddy, after he's passed us, and pushes further on his way. That's the only sensible thing to do.