“Please don’t let’s talk about it!” she begged, giving his arm a little pat. “I’m here and it can’t be helped now. I was only afraid you’d find me before it was too late and take me back.”
Then, edging over to Jim and slipping her arm in his, she murmured:
“Oh, my dear! Don’t you see I couldn’t stay behind? I had to be with you at the end, Jimmy, if—”
“It won’t be!” he cried, pressing her cold hand. “It can’t be!”
Then he turned to give his attention to her father, who had already mounted to the cockpit and was working absorbedly over his mechanism in the pale light of the coming day.
Any moment, Jim knew, those flaming termites might discover them, and come swooping down. With keen eyes he scanned the horizon. No sign of them yet.
“How are you up there?” he called.
“About ready,” was the reply. “But I shall want more light than this for my mirrors.”
Tensely, counting the seconds, they waited for the sunrise….