"Of course you would," said Linda approvingly. "Even if you do insist upon talking baby-talk!"
"Baby-talk?"
"Certainly. 'Buy a biplane'—sounds like 'Bye, Bye, Baby,' doesn't it?"
Ralph smiled, but they both forgot immediately what they were saying, for they were beside the plane now, ready to start on their flight. Linda was not at all nervous about the journey, only thrilled and happy. She climbed into the cockpit with the same assurance that she entered her car, and her take-off was just as easy, just as natural. It seemed now as if she piloted the biplane by instinct; with the sureness of a bird it rose into the air to a gradual height of fifteen hundred feet. For she had been cautioned again and again that there was safety in height.
They flew along without any attempt at conversation, for it was difficult to hear above the roar of the motor. But Linda was so happy that she hummed softly to herself, and most of the time she was smiling. Ralph, with a map in his lap, kept a close watch on the compass.
For some time they did not see any other planes in the sky, and then at last one came into view. As it drew closer, it occurred to Linda to wonder whether she was being followed.
"Who do you suppose that is?" shouted Ralph, above the noise of the motor.
"I think it's somebody from our school—maybe Taylor," she replied. "Perhaps Dad ordered them to follow us—for safety—or maybe it was Ted Mackay's idea."
As the plane drifted off to one side, they thought no more about the matter. But it was noon now; the sun stood high overhead, and both of the young people were astonished to find how hungry they were.