“But we won’t.” The girl spoke quietly. “If you crack up, we’ll be right down. This ship has control. I can land her on a dime.”
“But don’t forget—”
“I never forget,” the girl snapped. “Now go on down there and try your luck. It’s all that’s left to do.”
“What’d he mean—secret?” The blonde-haired girl who sat in the co-pilot seat beside the girl who had carried on that spirited conversation, drawled, “What secret?”
“Sorry, Janet,” was the slow reply. “You’ve heard of military secrets, I suppose?”
“For Pete’s sake, Mary Mason! Yes! Of course, I have, but I don’t see—”
“This is one of them.” Mary Mason, the little girl who piloted a big plane, favored her with a smile.
After that, save for the slow drone of motors, there was quiet in the cabin, a tense sort of calm, such as comes before a storm. After a time the blonde-haired Janet said:
“Sparky’s motors didn’t stop all by themselves.”
“Of course they didn’t. Sparky’s too good a pilot for that.”