Linda gasped. Was the other occupant a woman? A thrill of relief passed over her, for she had been terrified at the idea of being alone with such a hard-looking man in this desolate spot.
"A girl?" she stammered, pressing close to the plane.
"Yeah. Me wife. Her name's Susie."
Linda flashed the light under the wreckage of the plane, and distinguished a young woman in a flyer's suit. She was unconscious.
Without another word they both set silently to work to disentangle her. At last they dragged her out—still unconscious. But she evidently was still alive, though the man remarked that her arm must be broken—and maybe an ankle or two. He seemed very matter-of-fact about it all.
"What's in that flask?" he demanded abruptly, of Linda.
"Water," she replied.
"Water!" he snarled angrily. "Water!"
He looked as if he meant to hit her, and Linda recoiled in terror.