Mr. Tupper looked up from his newspaper.
"Kane?" he repeated. "Bless me! That's the name of the Flying Girl."
"So it is," admitted Miss Kane, with a little laugh.
"But flying is not in your line, I imagine," said Madeline, admiring anew the dainty personality of her chance acquaintance.
"At present our train is dragging, rather than flying," was the merry response.
Mr. Tupper was interested. He carefully folded his paper and joined in the conversation.
"The idea of any girl attempting to do stunts in the air!" he remarked disdainfully. "Your namesake, Miss Kane, deserves to break her venturesome, unmaidenly neck—as she probably will, in the near future."
"Nonsense, Uncle!" cried Madeline; "Orissa Kane, so far as I've read of her—and I've read everything I could find—is not at all unmaidenly. She's venturesome, if you like, and manages an aëroplane better than many of the bird-men can; but I see nothing more unwomanly in flying than in running an automobile, and you know I do that to perfection. This Flying Girl, as she is called, is famous all over America for her daring, her coolness in emergencies and her exceptional skill. I want to see her fly, while I'm out here, for I understand there's to be an aviation meet of some sort in San Diego next week, and that Orissa Kane is engaged to take part in it."
"Flying is good sport, I admit," said Mr. Tupper, "but it would give me the shivers to see a girl attempt it. And, once a machine is in the air, you can't tell whether a man or woman is flying it; they all look alike to the watcher below. Don't go to this aviation meet, Madeline; you've seen girls fly. There was Miss Moissant, at Garden City——"
"She barely got off the ground," said Miss Dentry.