Hastily consulting her compass, the girl flew low, heading her craft toward land. She had a wild hope that Joe Arnold would think she had been lost in that mountain of fog and would give up his pursuit.
Rising gradually, she came out at last through the fog and into the sunlight. Beneath her the fog stretched for miles like a fleecy texture glistening in the sun.
Joe Arnold was nowhere to be seen.
“Safe at last!” gasped Terry as she took a long breath. She searched the horizon for signs of land but as far as the eye could reach there was nothing but the expanse of dazzling white.
Trembling with excitement she looked in every direction to see if her pursuer was in sight, and gasped, “We’ve fooled Joe Arnold! He’ll never catch us now!”
She turned to Allan with a reassuring smile. At that moment she heard Allan’s voice in the earphones. “He’s coming, Terry. Behind us! And far above.”
Terry’s heart sank. She nodded to show that she had heard.
Then she began a slow spiral down. Allan held his breath. Had the girl gone crazy? What was she doing?
Terry might have been having a joy ride, a romp in the air, by the way she was banking so carelessly, circling and levelling off.
Above, Joe’s plane had gone into a steep dive. It was coming straight at Skybird and Terry seemed to be making no effort to get out of the way.