“Sparky,” she spoke in a low tone, “as the crooks would say, ‘what’s the lay?’”
“We’ll be here for at least another day.” Sparky’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t like it. The rainy season is here. Every day it will get worse. We’ve made it this far alone and, considering the circumstances, got on pretty swell.”
“Sure we have, Sparky—just wonderful.”
“But orders are orders,” Sparky sighed. “We’re to go over with the rest of the flight.”
“That’s so they’ll pull us off a mountain peak in case we get stuck,” Mary suggested.
“Something like that. That’s the toughest bit of flying in the whole trip, so everything has to be a little more than all right. Our ship is ready to go right now.”
“Thanks to Sparky’s endless hours of toil.”
Sparky grinned. “Have it any way you like. The other planes are not ready, won’t be for a day, sooo—”
“What about the quinine?” Mary asked eagerly.