“Good!” said Scottie. “Well, then let’s get up and get going.”
Climbing to his place, he released the mechanic who had put his plane in motion, then motioned Mary to the co-pilot’s seat.
“This is a small plane alongside yours,” he said. “We had to break up some of the boxes of quinine and store the goods in the wings, but it’s all there.
“Listen to her!” he exclaimed, as the motor roared. “Snortin’ to go! She’s the sweetest ship I’ve ever flown. She’ll jump right straight up from the ground, or nearly so, and can land on any road a car can run on. She can do four hundred miles an hour, flying straight on, and can cut circles around any Jap plane that’s made. I only wish I could show you what a fighter she is, but they say all’s quiet on the Burma Front.”
“Please don’t stir it up on my account.” Mary laughed a bit nervously. “All I’m interested in is getting that quinine to the hospital—”
“Sure!” Scottie agreed heartily. “That’s our mission and that’s what we’ll do, but downing a couple of Zeros won’t hurt a bit.”
It seemed to Mary as they rose to greet the dawn, that he had spoken the exact truth. His ship did appear to leap straight into the air like a frightened bird.
“I’m glad Sparky is getting a chance to have a real rest at last,” she said after a time.
“Yes, I imagine he can use it, all right,” said Scottie. “He told me he was going to sleep late. After that he and one of the boys at camp will fly your plane to the foot of the mountains. We’ll meet them there late today.”
“And tomorrow we’ll go over the Himalayas?” Mary drew in a long, deep breath.