“Good,” the woman replied, but she kept her eyes on the door while Natell stood just outside of it until the girl Sky-Pilot had consumed the delicacy.

Roberta wondered why the great secrecy and reached the conclusion that Nomie’s general orders had been that she was to do nothing more than absolutely necessary for the prisoner. When the meal was finished, she rose to go outside partly because the place was stuffy, and partly because she wanted to know if she were to be kept within certain limits. Neither of the natives made any move to detain her and once beyond the low entrance her first thought was for Nike, but the plane was nowhere in sight.

The day was clear and in front of the dwelling the rocky land sloped toward the water. Here and there were stretches of white sand, washed up by the high tides, and a bit further back the girl could see a few clusters of shrubs and trees whose sturdy trunks were bent and twisted as if they had maintained their place despite the gales which had beaten them without mercy. Walking slowly toward the edge of the Island, she paused to look back and then discovered that there was really no house; that the entrance was cut or dug from the face of a low cliff, nor was there a sign of another habitation.

Roberta’s next thought was to find tracks of her machine, but she didn’t, nor did she come across any blackened spot which the bon-fire had left. Trying to reconstruct the place from when she landed on it she discovered that the highwater mark came to within a few yards of the cliff, and calculating quickly she figured that there had been at least two changes in the tide while she slept, so all marks would be completely obliterated.

As there appeared to be no one to object to her walking about wherever she chose, the girl proceeded slowly along the edge of the beach, which was rugged and irregular. Locating the position of the sun did not help her reach any solution to the question of where she was marooned, but a bit later when she climbed to the top of a hill she knew without doubt that she was on an island; and because of the coldness in the air and the course Mrs. Pollzoff had set when they left Charleston, she was positive that she was pretty far north. How far, she had no way of telling. Every few minutes she scanned the sky for a glimpse of Nike or a rescuing plane, but the heavens were as empty as the vast expanse of sea that surrounded her.

Figuring the time since anyone she knew had heard of or from her the girl Sky-Pilot felt positive that a search of some kind must be already started. She had no hope of the second glove’s having been found, but if the first one was picked up and passed on to any authority, at least they would have something upon which to work. Then, if Mr. Wallace’s invention had not failed, and had been heeded, the men of Lurtiss field would certainly have further assistance in finding her. Again she looked about for a trace of the gallant little plane, but found nothing.

“Wonder if anyone has gone up in her,” she remarked to herself. Then she wondered where Mrs. Pollzoff had gone. She guessed that the woman was not on this particular island, anyway, then suddenly she sat down and chuckled. “I’ll bet she’s gone off in Nike, and if she has, that little buzzer will be her Waterloo, for with the spring down, it will start again whenever the plane is taken into the air. Wouldn’t it be topping if Mrs. Pollzoff gets herself caught!” But, although the idea was certainly amusing, Roberta sighed. “She’s got too much sense, anyway, to go flying over the country in Nike—she’ll know everyone will be on the lookout for the machine.”

CHAPTER X
TREACHERY

The realization that Mrs. Pollzoff was too clever a woman to permit herself to be so easily caught ruined the tiny bit of fun Roberta had found in days. For minutes she stood, staring out at the sea and trying desperately to convince herself that she would soon find a way to escape. At first the fact that she were allowed to go about without guards and not kept under cover appeared to be a good thing, but as she thought that over, she made up her mind that this particular island was so far away from any line of travel or settlement that her captors had no fear of her being found by plane or boat; and she couldn’t get away, so they were safe in letting her roam at will.