"Shucks! It couldn't be," exclaimed Barney. "He wouldn't be up here alone this way."
"No, I guess not," sighed Bruce. "But it would be great sport if it were he, after all."
Ten days later, a girl in her late teens stood shading her eyes watching a tiny object against the sky. It might have been a hawk, but it was not; it was an airplane—the Handley-Page, with the two young pilots and the Major on board. The girl was La Vaune. She stood there watching till the plane had dwindled to a dot, and the dot had disappeared. Holding her apron to her eyes to hide her tears, she walked blindly into the house.
The adventurers were well on their way.
CHAPTER II
THE STRANGE LANDING
"I don't like the way the Rolls-Royce is acting," Bruce grumbled through his telephone to Barney, for, though they were not four feet apart, not a word could they hear, so great was the din of their two powerful engines.
"Same here," answered Barney. "Old Major ought to have given us more time to try 'em out. Brand new."
"Barren Lands far away. Forced to land in tree-tops. Good-night!"
After that there came only the monotonous roar of the engines. The Major's orders had been "Due north by west," and now, though they had put fully two hundred miles between themselves and the last sign of civilization, they were still holding to their course. They also had been directed to fly as low as was safe. Three times the Major had barked an order into the receiver; always to circle some spot, while he swept the earth with a binocular as powerful as could be used in an airplane. Three times he had given a second order to resume their course.