“We’ll be seeing you.” She climbed up to take her place in the plane.
She found Sparky looking rather bleary-eyed. “Big job getting that burned engine into shape,” was his curt explanation.
“I’m all rested up,” she said. “Just as soon as we’re well in the sky, I’ll take the ship. You’re due for two hour’s rest.”
“Guess that’s safe enough.” He handed her the “Form One” card. “Those brigands of the air don’t operate close to this airport.”
She studied the card. He turned on fuel and ignition, then tested his fuel tanks.
“Okay,” he murmured. At that he primed the motors, set the energizer whirling, nodded to the mechanic, flipped on the fuel booster, nodded once more to the mechanic, then they were away.
Five minutes later Sparky slipped from his place and Mary had the big ship all to herself.
It was a marvelous day. They were flying at eight thousand feet. The indistinct desert trails seemed mere lines. Camel trains were moving insects.
As they advanced, the occasional villages began to disappear. At times she imagined that she saw elephants and droves of zebras close to the same water hole.
Their fighter escort caught up with them when they were an hour from port.