“Miss Carlton can pilot any plane that’s made!” replied Mr. Eckert, proudly. “She never needs any instruction. But,” he added, coming closer to Linda, “don’t forget that this isn’t an autogiro. Don’t try to land her on top of a building!”
Linda smiled.
“I only wish I had my own license,” she said.
“I shouldn’t worry about that,” returned Mr. Eckert. “The police aren’t going to make any more mistakes about arresting you.”
“I should hope not!” exclaimed Dot.
A minute later the mechanic started the motor, and Linda taxied along the runway, waving good-bye to Mr. Eckert. A few hundred feet further, and the Sky Rocket rose into the air like a bird, soaring up to the skies. The usual fog common to the early morning climate of California had lifted, and the sun shone brightly as Linda directed her course towards the mountains. She let out the throttle to its maximum as soon as she reached a good safe height; a hundred and fifty miles an hour did not seem an abnormal speed, but it was a thrilling experience. Linda loved her own Ladybug, but after all, this was an exciting change.
Over the orange groves of southern California they passed again, then, even higher up in the air to clear the San Jacinto Mountains, over the city of Imperial—on towards Yuma. The flight was nearly four hundred miles, but Linda covered it in less than four hours. At noon she landed the Sky Rocket at the airport of Yuma, Arizona.
Being a large airport, the men had already been informed by radio of the stolen autogiro, and the attendant who came out to greet the Sky Rocket was prepared to answer Linda’s questions.
“A giro stopped here yesterday for gas and oil,” he said. “And we filled her up. Put a patch on one wing, but the couple wouldn’t wait long enough to have it done right. That must have been about three o’clock in the afternoon. We got the radio soon after that, to take the licenses of all the giros we got a look at.”
“What did the people look like? Were they a man and a girl?” demanded Dot, excitedly.