That afternoon Orissa worked on the Aircraft, repairing the damage caused by the sliding chest. She also took apart the steering gear, filed the bearings carefully, and afterward replaced the parts, fitting them nicely together and greasing them thoroughly. As a result of this labor the gear now worked easily and its parts were not likely again to bind.
"Steve made it altogether too light for its purpose," said the girl. "On the next machine I must see that he remedies that fault."
Sybil had been lying half asleep on the sands, shaded by the spreading plane of the Aircraft. She now aroused herself and looked at her companion with a whimsical expression while the other girl carefully gathered up the tools and put them away.
"All ready to run, Ris?" she asked.
"All ready."
"I suppose with the gasoline tanks filled we could go home?"
"Yes; I think so. With the wind in our favor, as it was when we came, we ought to cover the same distance easily."
"Very good. I hope you are now satisfied, having worked like a nailer for half a day, getting a machine in order that can't be utilized. Gasoline doesn't grow on this island, I imagine—unless it could be made from bananas."
"No; it doesn't grow here."