Matt wanted to talk with his cowboy chum and did not want to be under the necessity of passing his words around the girl.
"Move over, sis," requested McGlory, standing up and balancing himself on the foot-rest.
The girl quietly slipped along the plane.
Cheer after cheer greeted the aëroplane and the king of the motor boys as soon as the crowded thoroughfares were reached. Ping, on the upper wing, and clad in all his barbaric finery, was as proud as a peacock. Haidee, on the other hand, paid absolutely no attention to the crowds. She sat rigidly in her place, like a girl carved from stone, keeping her unblinking eyes straight ahead of her.
"I'm plumb beat, and no mistake," breathed McGlory, in Matt's ear. "I never saw Haidee like this before. She acts to me like she was locoed."
"Boss Burton told me, just before we started," answered Matt, in a low tone, "that she was subject to 'spells.' This is the first one she has had in a month, Burton says."
"Can you savvy it?"
"No."
"Ben Ali seems worried out of his wits. Watch how he keeps Rajah zigzagging back and forth across the trail, so he can get a look at the girl every now and then. I wonder if Haidee knows what she's about?"
"She must. If she didn't she wouldn't be riding in the aëroplane."