With long, quick strides she made her way where one man bent over the prostrate form of another.
When she was half way there she saw the kneeling man turn his head. Then she knew.
“Oh! Sparky!” she exclaimed. “You’re safe!”
“Sure! What’d you think?” The tall, strongly built young man with black, kinky hair grinned.
“I—I didn’t know.” She was closer now. “It would have been terrible if you had been seriously injured, you know.” Her voice dropped. “Secret cargo!”
“Yes, I know.”
“But Don!” she exclaimed. “Is he badly injured?” She was standing beside Sparky now.
“I can’t tell yet,” was the slow answer. “I have the courage to hope not. He got a bang on the head. That knocked him out. I’ve felt him over pretty carefully. No bones broken is my guess. But he keeps groaning. His hand comes up to his chest. Got a cracked rib or two I shouldn’t wonder.”
“That’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Bad enough, but it might be worse. Anyway, our plane can never be repaired. Not here it can’t.”