Jimmie heard the word only faintly and nodded. Back from the ocean, they swung almost to the right of way of the Southern Pacific railroad. Below them opened great gorges in which a city might be hidden. There were immense forests which seemed of sufficient size to furnish a world in fuel for a thousand years. Here and there small rivulets trickled down the rugged mountainsides and joined larger streams, trailing off into the interior. It was like viewing a magic panorama.
The exciting race continued until long after noon. The Louise was by far the swifter machine of the two, and so the pursuer was obliged to resort to every trick known to aviators in order to keep her in view.
The strain on the rear aeroplane was much greater than that on the Louise. The result of this was that the latter machine lasted longer in the swift competition. About the middle of the afternoon, she began moving away from her pursuer and soon lost sight of her entirely.
Then Jimmie, after dropping down behind a summit, reduced speed in order to exchange ideas with his companion.
“Did you see where she went, Kit?” he asked.
“She just lagged behind!” was the reply.
“There may be some trick about it!” suggested Jimmie.
“If you leave it to me,” Kit went on, “there’s something the matter with her spark plug. I noticed her limping along half an hour before we lost sight of her.”
“In that case,” Jimmie explained, “he’ll have to make a landing in order to repair the damage, and, if he hasn’t got an extra plug with him, he can’t repair it at all.”
“What does the situation suggest to you?” asked Kit with a laugh.