"You better let him take you home, Mary V. He's all right—for flying. I've got to hand it to him there."
"And give him a chance to steal your aeroplane? He'd never bring it back. I know he wouldn't."
"He'd have to. I'd only give him gas enough to make the trip on, and—"
"And if he had enough to come back with, he'd have enough to get to the railroad with. Don't be stupid. You can take me; couldn't you, now, honest?"
"Well,—I feel as if I could, all right. But a fellow's supposed to practice a lot with an instructor before he gets gay and goes to flying alone. Bland says—"
"Oh, plague take Bland! What would you have done if you hadn't run across him at all? Would you have tried to fly?"
"You know it!" Johnny laughed. "I've sat in that seat and worked the controls every day since I got it. I know 'em by heart. I've studied the theory of flying till I'll bet I could stick Bland himself on some of the principles. And I've been flying in my sleep for months and months. Sure, I'd have tackled it. But I wouldn't have had you along when I started in."
"You know how the thing works, then. Well, come on back and work it! Unless you're scared."
"Me scared? Of an airplane? It's you I'm thinking about. I'd go alone, quick enough. Maybe we could both crowd into the front seat, and let Bland pilot the machine. Then—"
"I abso-lutely will not—fly with—Bland Halliday! If you won't take me home, I'll walk!" Mary V pinched in her lips, which meant stubbornness.