“I surely am. If she will fly. That’s another thing, Dot. You know that man at the airport said that she had a damaged wing. So naturally, the Spragues would be glad to get hold of a fresh plane.”
“I wonder whether they had trouble taking off,” observed Dot. “It’s not any too easy.”
“No, but the ground’s very hard. I guess they haven’t had any rain here all summer.... Come on, Dot, if you’re able to walk, let’s go over and see the Ladybug. I’m dying to get a look at her again.”
“So am I,” agreed her companion.
Walking a trifle shakily at first, and feeling extremely weak and queer after their experience, the girls went slowly to the spot where the autogiro was resting. Like her owner, she, too, looked in bad condition, as if she had been mistreated, and had travelled a great distance. And, as Linda expected, the patch on the wing was split open again.
“No wonder they swapped planes!” exclaimed Linda. “I guess that girl was pretty desperate. Well, thank goodness, I keep stuff on hand for repairs.”
“And thank goodness you know how to do it!” added Dot, with admiration. “Any other girl would be in a fine picnic in a fix like this!”
“Speaking of picnics, don’t you think we’d feel better if we ate something? I don’t feel a bit sick at my stomach—only terribly weak. Breakfast might help. They didn’t take our food and water, did they?”
“They didn’t take what we left out for breakfast,” replied the chum. “But unfortunately we left most of our stuff in the plane.”
“Well, we’ll have to eat sparingly. But if I work fast, I ought to be able to get off by noon, and we can surely fly till we find a place to eat.”