Fifteen minutes later the plane landed and taxied across a weedy field to a lonely road that wound across the prairie. A truck, laden with barrels of gasoline, was waiting. Jane and the others were not permitted to leave the cabin while Bardo forced Charlie Fischer and his co-pilot to help fill the wing tanks. When that task was done, Bardo entered the cabin.
“Get out,” he told the traveling men.
“Hey, you can’t maroon us like this” the older one protested.
“Get out,” repeated Bardo, his black eyes snapping, and they hastened to obey.
Jane and Sue started to follow the traveling men, but Bardo’s soft voice stopped them.
“Stay here. We want you to take care of this youngster. His mother gets off here.”
Mrs. Condon’s protests were to no avail and she was shoved roughly from the plane.
Bardo disappeared up ahead and presently the motors started. Mellotti locked the door and the plane swung around for a dash across the field. Jane’s face blanched as she saw Charlie Fischer and the co-pilot standing on the ground. Bardo was flying the plane. She and Sue and Jackie Condon were alone with the kidnapers.
Bardo appeared to be a flyer of above average ability for he handled the large plane easily. They sped westward, climbing over what Jane was sure were the snow-crested Canadian Rockies. Then they dropped down the other side, and a great expanse of water loomed ahead.
The plane turned northward, skimming over the coast line. For fully an hour they went on and then Bardo brought the transport down on a long shingle of sand. It was an easy landing and Jane admired his skill.