"Roll her over and run back a mile or so," said Barney. "I saw something down there that didn't belong in this desert."
Jim snapped the plane around in a sharp loop that nearly took their heads off, and they ran back along their course.
"Yop," called Barney, "there she is!"
"What?"
"See that glint of shiny metal? That doesn't belong in this mess of erosion. Might be a crash."
"Hold tight," laughed Jim. "We're going down."
They did. Jim's piloting had all of the aspects of a daredevil racing pilot's, and Barney was used to it. Jim snapped the nose of the little flier down and they power-dived to within a few yards of the sand before he set the plane on its tail and skidded flatwise to kill speed. He leveled off, and the flier came screaming in for a perfect landing not many feet from the glinting object.
