The Girl Aviators Sky Cruise | Page 7

speed. It fairly cut through the air. Both
the occupants were glad to lower their goggles to protect their eyes
from the sharp, cutting sensation of the atmosphere, as they rushed

against it--into its teeth, as it were.
Peggy glanced at the indicator. The black pointer on the white dial was
creeping up--fifty, sixty, sixty-two--she would show this officer what
the Prescott monoplane could do.
"Sixty-four! Great Christmas!"
The exclamation came from the officer. He had leaned forward and
scanned the indicator eagerly.
"We'll do better when we have our new type of motor installed," said
Peggy, with a confident nod. The young fellow gasped.
"This is the twentieth century with a vengeance," he murmured, sinking
back in his rear seat, which was as comfortably upholstered as the
luxurious tonneau of a five-thousand-dollar automobile.
Like a darting, pouncing swallow, seeking its food in mid-air, the
Golden Butterfly swooped, soared and dived in long, graceful gradients
above the Mortlake plant. Once Peggy brought the aeroplane so close
to the ground in a long, swinging sweep, that it seemed as if it could
never recover enough "way" to rise again. Even the officer, trained in a
strict school to repress his emotions, tightened his lips, and then opened
them to emit a relieved gasp.
So close to the gaping machinists and the anger-crimsoned Mortlake
did the triumphant aeroplane swoop, that Peggy, to her secret
amusement could trace the astonished look on the faces of the
employees and the chagrined expression that darkened Mortlake's
countenance.
"I guess I've given them something to think over," she said
mischievously, flinging back a brilliant smile at the dazed young
officer.
"Now," she exclaimed the next moment, "for a distance flight. I'm
anxious to put the Golden Butterfly through all her paces. Oh, by the

way, the balancer. I haven't shown you how that works yet."
If Peggy's bright eyes had not been veiled by goggles, the officer might
have seen a mischievous gleam flash into them, like a wind ripple over
the placid surface of a blue lake.
Suddenly the aeroplane slanted to one side, as if it must turn over.
Peggy had banked it on a sharp aerial curve. The young officer, in spite
of himself, in defiance of his training, gave a gasp.
"I say----"
But the words had hardly left his lips before the aeroplane was back on
a level keel once more. At the same time a rasping, sliding sound was
heard.
"Like to see how that was done?" asked Peggy, with a bewitching
smile.
"Yes. By Jove, I thought we were over for an instant. But how----"
"That we shall be glad to show you when the United States government
has contracted for a number of the Prescott aeroplanes," retorted Peggy.
The young officer bit his lip.
"Confound it," he thought, "is this chit of a girl making fun of me?"
Young officers have a high idea of their own dignity. Mr. Bradbury
colored a bit with mortification. But Peggy quickly dispelled his
temporary chagrin.
"You see," she explained, "it would never do for us to reveal all our
secrets, would it? You agree with me, don't you?"
"Oh, perfectly. You are quite right. Still, I confess that you have
aroused all my inquisitiveness."
Peggy being busied just then with a bit of machinery on the bulkhead

separating the motor from the body of the chassis, made no reply. But
presently, when she looked up, she gave a sharp exclamation.
The sky, as if by magic, had grown suddenly dark. Above the pulsating
voice of the motor could be heard the rumble of thunder. All at once a
vivid flash of lightning leaped across the horizon. One of those sudden
storms of summer had blown up from the sea, and Peggy knew enough
of Long Island weather to know that these disturbances were usually
accompanied by terrific winds--squalls and gusts that no aeroplane yet
built or thought of could hope to cope with.
"We're running into dirty weather, it seems," remarked the officer. "I
thought I noticed some thunderheads away off on the horizon when we
first went up."
"I wish you'd mentioned them then," said the straightforward Peggy;
"as it is, we'll have to descend till this blows over."
"What, won't even the wonderful equalizer render her safe?"
"No, it won't. It will do anything reasonable. But you've no idea of the
fury of the wind that comes with these black squalls."
"Indeed I have. Last summer I was off Montauk Point in the Dixie.
Something went wrong with the steering gear just as one of these
self-same young hurricanes came bustling up. I tell you, it was "all
hands and the cook" for a while. It hardly blows much harder in a
typhoon."
Peggy gazed below her over the darkening landscape anxiously.