On the bridge Ned held a fluttering chart before him.
"How is she heading?" he called to Pilot Alan at the wheel. With a glance at the compass before him Alan promptly responded:
"Nor'nor'east."
"Make it north by east."
A quick slight movement and a strain told that the alteration had been made.
"North by east it is," sang out Alan.
"Keep her there," was the echoing response.
Bob was thrilled. Every word was to him a joy. Everything had happened so quickly that he hardly knew what it all meant, but he was happy. Even the sudden discipline pleased him and he was glad to be a part of it. The knowledge that a younger boy was giving him orders did not bother him. He had skill in his own line, but he saw and realized that in the Cibola Ned Napier was in charge and meant business.
For some time then no word was heard. The Cibola, speeding, swiftly onward, had crossed the low foothills and was pulling herself through the almost breezeless air like a modern liner, five hundred feet above the ground. She was holding her course beautifully. Then Ned appeared and tested the gas exhaust and oil feed of the engine.
"Were you ever in a balloon before?" he said when he had finished, turning sharply towards Bob.