He looked over in the direction of the reviewing stand and saw Elinor sitting on the narrow wooden steps, waving to him, clasping her hands over her head in a gesture of good luck.
Once more, his own problems took possession of his mind and he found himself mechanically rehearsing the action of the stick that Panama had taught him, concentrating upon each different movement.
Just then a major, in charge of flying instruction, approached and after returning Panama’s salute, called the sergeant aside.
“Are you certain that man is ready to make his solo?” he asked, pointing to Lefty. “He seems nervous to me!”
Panama knew what this opportunity meant to Lefty and, so long as it was up to him, he was determined to see to it that nothing arose to prevent the boy making his last lap in the struggle for wings.
“Just a bit overanxious, sir,” he explained, “He’ll come through O.K., though. He’s one of the best in the new squad.”
The major looked in Lefty’s direction again, shook his head doubtfully and, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, said, “All right, but I am depending upon your word, sergeant. If anything happens, the responsibility rests upon your shoulders.”
Panama smiled confidently, brought himself to attention and saluted.
“I’ll take that chance with any man I’ve trained, sir!”
As the major walked off, the nose of Steve’s plane was turned toward the earth. In another few seconds, he was making a three-point landing in veteran style.