The Fighter Planes Guarded Her Air Lane
At that moment, as everything took on a darker hue, she seemed, to be in a lonely little world all her own. She wanted to call Sparky but could not get the consent of her mind to do so. “Poor Sparky,” she thought, “he works so hard. And when he’s through the old ship moves on like a placid river.”
Another quarter hour passed and then suddenly she called in a startled voice:
“Sparky! Sparky!”
“What is it?” He was at her side in an instant.
She did not answer, only pointed forward and down, then set her plane climbing toward a cloud, at the same time driving the engines into a tremendous roar. Four powerful enemy fighters were all but upon them and, as if bent upon suicide and destruction, racing straight on. If these pilots had rejoiced because of their rare find, their exultation was short lived, for, darting from a cloud, a flying fury sprang straight at their leader.
“Ramsey!” Mary exclaimed. “It’s Ramsey! He’ll be killed!”
“Give me the controls,” Sparky’s voice was quiet. After slowing the motors, he continued to climb.