Linda searched frantically, hoping that the girl would not die without their even finding out who she was. But the search was of no avail; the pockets of her sweater were full of nothing but holes.
Dot returned from the road and glanced questioningly at the girl, and then at Linda.
“Unconscious again?”
“No, I’m all right,” replied the stranger herself, wearily opening her eyes.
“Have you thought of your name yet?” inquired Linda.
“No, I haven’t. My head hurts so. Please take me to a hospital!”
Between them, Dot and Linda managed to get her to her feet, and helped her into the autogiro, where she sat on Dot’s lap in the passenger’s cockpit. Linda started the motor.
“Ever been in a plane before?” asked Dot, as the “Ladybug” taxied.
The girl shook her head.
Linda consulted her map. She did not know where she was, but as she had flown almost directly west from Lake Michigan, she decided to fly east. If they did not pass another town, they could land at Milwaukee.