“Howe has some sort of idea that he wants to put into operation. He believes that it will help him capture a choice collection of bandits and he thinks some of them will make use of Miss Langwell, so she’s in the Government employ really, but she doesn’t know it.”
“It sounds blamed putrid to me,” Phil declared, and he started down the steps.
“Give it a trial, Phil, for it’s a whale of a thing,” the man urged. “We don’t any of us think much of the plan, but she promised to help him and probably his way is best.”
“Well—” Just then the familiar roar of Nike’s engine announced that their Girl Sky Pilot was on her way home, and if Roberta could have had an inkling of that conversation, it would have brightened the outlook of everything for weeks to come. But she was blissfully unconscious that she was playing a part, and life seemed to be of the deepest indigo.
It took Nike only a short time to get her young owner home and to her own new hangar. The Langwells lived on the outskirts of one of Long Island’s many small towns, east of the flying field on a part of an ancient farm. There were several acres in the property and since they had become interested in aviation, Harvey and his sister had built a house for their planes out of an old barn. They had smoothed off a fair runway, not as good, of course, as those on the regulation fields, but it was fairly smooth and perfectly safe for landing and taking-off. Nike was brought down in a perfect three-point and mechanically the girl glanced at the wind-sock fluttering under the old weather-cock.
There was a catch in the girl’s throat when she unlocked the long sliding doors and assured herself that her brother’s plane, the Falcon, which that young man rarely used since he was back at college, was properly placed so her own machine could be run in easily. While she was attending to the task she heard the house door open, and realized that her mother was probably coming out to learn why she was home so early. With a determined effort she shook off the gloom, or at least its outward appearance, so when Mrs. Langwell appeared she was greeted by a smiling young daughter.
“’Lo, Mummy,” she called.
“All right, my dear?”
“Top hole. As soon as I lock the door I’ll be in with you,” she answered with a disarming cheeriness.
“May I help?”