“O.K.,” agreed Mike, signaling to Helen to get into his Ford.
“My ‘Ladybug!’” exclaimed Linda abruptly. She had all but forgotten it. Suppose it were burned!
“Want any help?” asked Mike, as Pat started to drive his truck down to the road.
“No, thanks. But take Dot and Helen with you. I’ll meet you there—I hope!”
Running as fast as she could, keeping her face turned from the intense heat of the fire, she passed the barn and saw that it too was beginning to burn. Oh, if the “Ladybug” were only safe! Next to their lives she valued her trusted autogiro. Insurance would mean little to her; it was this particular plane that she loved, almost as if it were a horse or a dog.
But, miraculously, it was all right, though she realized that she was just in time, for now that the barn was burning, a spark might fly any moment that would set it into flames. Never before had she been so quick in starting its engine. Thank goodness it was in perfect condition, after her work of the morning!
As soon as she had left the ground she circled down to the road, and saw the lights of the truck and the Ford, for it was almost dark now. Selecting a field opposite, she landed her autogiro again and ran across to join the group around the cars.
All the young people had by this time regained their spirits and were talking excitedly and happily, asking each other questions, hardly waiting for explanations, and all shouting at once. Though Pat O’Malley had been a stranger to the girls fifteen minutes before, he now seemed like one of their best friends.
“If we only had something to eat!” sighed Mike, “my joy would be complete.”
“Didn’t you boys have any supper?” demanded Dot. It was quite dark now, it must be after eight o’clock, she thought.