And then her ship’s landing wheels touched the broad, hard-trodden path of the natives. Coming in closer to the natives’ shacks she had avoided the treacherous hillside and suddenly, there she was. Graceful as a plover with wings outspread the Lone Star came to rest.
“We made it!” Mary gave vent to a heavy sigh of relief. “But now!” She was up and away in the same breath, for the solving of one difficult problem had only served to bring her closer to another. There had been two men in the bomber when it crashed, Sparky Ames and Don Nelson. One had been injured. Which one? And how badly? She had to know.
“I’m going over there!” she exclaimed as she leaped from the plane, at the same time pointing up the hill.
“Okay. I’ll watch this plane,” Janet said.
“Yes, I think that’s wise. You never can tell.”
The Lone Star Came to Rest at the Foot of the Hill
Mary cast an apprehensive glance at the long row of native houses. “Homes of a hundred people,” she thought. “Perfectly wild natives.” But now nothing stirred there.