“Don’t land!” shouted Amy, with intense excitement. “There isn’t any barn around here. Besides, I know—I’m sure—this isn’t the Fox River! It’s the Wisconsin.”
“Then those pilots are wrong?”
“They must be.”
“Amy, are you sure?”
“Yes, positive. Go on, Linda! We’ll beat ’em yet. Fly north! This is somehow familiar ground to me!”
Chapter X
The Treasure
Linda directed her plane upward and consulted her map. If Amy was right, and this was the Wisconsin River, there was still a chance of getting that prize. If the girl was wrong, it would be too late anyhow, for one of those three pilots would certainly have found the treasure by this time. In which case it would be better for Linda to fly directly to Lake Winnebago.
Assuming that Amy was right, and this was the Wisconsin and not the Fox River, she turned her plane to the northeast. Unfortunately, however, this act headed her right back into the storm.
Fresh clouds seemed to be gathering everywhere; it was impossible to climb above them, or to pass through them. The wind was blowing fiercely, sending the rotor blades about at a terrific speed. The autogiro seemed to sway; she felt herself suddenly in the grip of a whirlwind. Amy, frightened at last, held on to the sides of the cockpit with a deadly grip. Neither girl wore a safety belt; it seemed any moment as if they would both be dashed over the sides of the plane.
“Be ready to jump, Amy, if I give a signal!” Linda shouted through the speaking tube to her companion. Her face was white and her lips tense with fear; the autogiro was out of her control entirely. She could only wait, and trust grimly to the rotors.