(Sooner than you think, Linda said to herself, for no one but Mr. Eckers at the school knew of her proposed trans-Atlantic flight.)
Both girls plunged headlong into the work, forgetting everything but the studies that were before them. Only, Linda could not forget to watch eagerly for the telegram that would mean her father's final consent.
It arrived three days later, saying that all his business troubles had vanished, and that he had sold enough of her bonds for her to write a check for her Bellanca.
Wild with joy, she dashed across the flying field to the hangar where Louise happened to be taking some notes from Eckers.
"Everything's O.K.!" she cried, as she burst open the door. "We can fly to Paris, Lou!"
Her chum jumped up and the girls hugged each other in ecstasy, much to the amusement of the elderly instructor.
"So you're ordering a Bellanca long-distance mono-plane?" he asked.
"Yes. Tonight! Oh, Mr. Eckers, from its pictures, from its description, it's absolutely marvelous. And as safe as an ocean-liner!"
"Safer!" amended Louise, "Ocean-liners sometimes sink. But never a Bellanca!"
"We're going to be awfully careful and thorough about our preparations, Mr. Eckers," Linda explained, as she detached herself from Louise's arms, and sat down on the edge of his desk. "Just like Lindbergh!"