“Sure you have had enough?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“You still have a tank of gas, haven’t you?” Mrs. Pollzoff consulted the indicator to see how much was in the plane.
“Yes, but I believe we had better get down soon because we are getting away from towns and even farms. We do not want to be stranded in the open all night,” Roberta consulted the chart.
“Very true. Have you done any night flying?”
“Oh yes, but not any oftener than I could help. Of course there are a great many guides and riding under the stars is mighty attractive but one never can tell what might happen; storms come up suddenly, and mountains have a disconcerting habit of bobbing in front of a plane when it is least desirable.” They talked through the telephone and finally Roberta decided upon the best place for their landing, turned sharply off the course toward the southeast.
“Why do you go back?” Mrs. Pollzoff asked her.
“We will get better landing accommodations; at least, I know the field and I am sure of it,” the girl answered.
“All right, one should never interfere with the pilot, but if we go forward we will have less distance to travel tomorrow.”
“We have put half the continent behind us since we started,” Roberta reminded her and the woman made no further objections.