"A Loening amphibian. Not exactly the stock model, for Dad and I had quite a few changes made in the cabin and this pilot's cockpit."
"What?" shrieked Dorothy. "An airplane--one that can land either on water or on land?"
"That's right. The old crate has the hull of a boat equipped with retractible wheel landing gear which operates electrically."
"You're too technical for me," she said frowningly, and balanced herself with a hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "But if this is an airplane, why keep bouncing along on the water? I'd think you'd fly to land and have done with it."
"My dear girl--" began Bill.
"Don't use that patronizing tone--I'm not your dear girl--not by a long shot!"
Bill laughed outright. "My error once more. However, Miss Spitfire, when you learn to fly, you'll find out that air currents are very like water currents. When it is blowing as hard as it is now, flying a plane is fully as dangerous as sailing a boat--more so, in fact. When the wind reaches a certain velocity, it is impossible to balance your plane. You have to land--or crash."
Dorothy was beginning to understand. "Then you must have taken some awful risks coming out after me."
"I was lucky," he admitted. "But you see, even if we were able to fly in this gale, now, it's quite impossible to take off in such a heavy sea. If I gave the old bus enough gas to get up a flying speed, these combers would batter the hull in--I'd never be able to get her onto her step. Some day, when it's fine, and the water's smooth, I'll show you what I meant by that. Now all we can do is to taxi."
"Taxi?--This is the first seagoing taxi I've ever been in!"