As Alan began a swinging volplane, Buck, his pilot duties ended, closed his lips and hastened down the store room ladder. Ned was on the port gallery examining the land beneath and the waiting group.
“Ned,” began Buck somewhat embarrassed, “what are you goin’ to do with all the money you brought along?”
“Probably nothing. I hope so, at least,” answered Ned, his eyes still squinting to make out the details of the waiting party still far below. “But why?”
“I don’t want to ask these folks for money. I don’t know ’em. And I haven’t enough.”
“Enough for what?” asked Ned, turning to Buck at last.
“Well, I thought—you know you said—I mean I said—I’d get off here if you’d bring me along.”
THE END OF THE FLIGHT, LONDON.
“You—” began Ned, open-mouthed.
“I know you’ve got a big load goin’ back. I’m expecting to get off here.”