“I’m going to get right to work,” she announced to Helen, “and you better see what you can do about making a fire. If you go up the mountain farther, under those thick trees, you may be able to find some dry wood. And then we can get warm and make some hot tea for our supper.”
“Supper?” repeated Helen. “It isn’t time for that yet, is it?”
“No, not yet. But I’m afraid I’ll be a good while fixing the ‘Ladybug.’ We’ll have to make the best of it.”
Helen nodded, determined to be a good sport and not to make things any harder than was necessary for Linda. After all, it was for Helen’s sake that the brave young pilot had risked this flight over the mountains in the storm. She would do her part to make the older girl as comfortable as possible.
She spent the rest of the afternoon collecting wood and clearing a dry spot under the trees for their camp fire, and she managed to cook supper from a can of baked beans which Linda had in the autogiro. What light there was—for it was still drizzling a little and the skies were gray—was fading when Linda, tired and dirty, announced that she had completed her task.
“That supper certainly smells good,” she said, as she used a little of their water to wash her hands. “And I’m starved!”
“So am I,” agreed Helen. “Are you really finished, Linda? Do you think the ‘Ladybug’ will fly again?”
“I hope so,” replied the aviatrix, seating herself beside the fire and taking the plate of beans which Helen offered. “My only difficulty will be to get her started. There’s no place for a take-off.”
“I never thought of that. I believed that an autogiro could start anywhere.”
“Well, not quite anywhere. There must be a little runway,” explained Linda. “But I think the two of us together can push her over to that road—at least it’s supposed to be a road, I guess—if we go carefully. Will you help me after supper?”