The plane was still doing well over a hundred miles an hour, and going forward with mighty gains, eating up the miles. The sun set and once again the girls ate some sandwiches and drank more coffee.
“I’m almost afraid to offer to take the controls and let you rest,” said Dot, humbly. “After the way I fell down before.”
“It was the Sky Rocket that did the falling,” laughed Linda. “But I guess that wouldn’t happen again. You’ll stay up high, I’m thinking.”
“You’ll trust me again?”
“Certainly, Dot. Don’t be so foolish. Besides, I want to do a little calculating.”
Relaxing back in her seat, Linda consulted her maps and her sextant, when suddenly she heard a queer noise. The motor was knocking in a strange, ominous way that almost made the girls’ hearts stop beating. Was it going dead? Panic-stricken, Dot looked down on the ocean, hoping that she could see the “Mona,” or some other ship that might rescue them, and Linda’s thoughts turned to the wireless.
The tapping was growing worse; the engine seemed to be dying. Linda racked her brain for a reason; surely the gas hadn’t given out. Telling Dot to keep on guiding the plane, she examined the feed-valve. And here she located the trouble!
A broad smile of relief spread over her face. “I can fix that, easily,” she assured her companion. “Just hang on for a couple of minutes.”
She was as good as her word; soon the knocking ceased, and the engine was running as smoothly as when the Sky Rocket left Cape San Lucas. And Linda herself was back at the controls, urging Dot to avail herself of a nap while she had the chance.
It was entirely dark now, and the stars were shining in the sky, and reflected in the ocean, making a beautiful picture for the girls as they flew on. Phosphorescent lights, too, played through the water, reminding Linda of the dangerous life beneath.