way quick," he
ordered Cliff, and helped swing the Thunder Bird round.

Dusk was settling upon the very heels of a sunset that had no clouds to
glorify and therefore dulled and darkened quickly into night, as is the
way of sunsets in the southern rim of States.

Already the shadows were deep against the hill, and in the deepest
stood the Thunder Bird, slim, delicately sturdy, every wire taut, every
bit of aluminum in her motor clean and shining, a gracefully potent
creature of the air. Across her back her name was lettered crudely,
blatantly, with the blobbed period where Johnny had his first mental
shock of Sudden's changed attitude toward him.

While he pulled on his leather helmet and tied the flaps under his
chin, and buttoned his leather coat and pulled on his gloves, Johnny
stood off and eyed the Thunder Bird with wistful affection. She was
going into the night for the first time, going into danger, perhaps
into annihilation. She might never fly again! He went up and laid a
hand caressingly on her slanted propeller, just as he used to stroke
the nose of his horse Sandy before a hard ride.

"Good old Thunder Bird! Good old Mile High! You've got your work cut
out for yuh to-night, old girl. Go to it--eat it up."

He slid his hand down along the blade's edge and whispered, "It's you
and me for it, old girl. You back my play like a good girl, and we'll
give 'em hell!"

He stepped back, catching Cliff's eye as Cliff took a last puff at his
cigarette before grinding it under his heel.

"Thought I saw a crack in the blade," Johnny gruffly explained his
action. "It was the way the light struck. All right; turn her over,
and we'll go."

He climbed in while Cliff went to the propeller. Never before had
Johnny felt so keenly the profanation of Cliff's immaculate, gloved
hands on his beloved Thunder Bird.

"Never mind, old girl. His time's short--or ours is," he muttered
while he tested his controls. "All right--contact!" he called
afterwards, and Cliff, with a mighty pull, set the propeller whirling
and climbed hastily into his place.

The kiddies, grouped close to watch the Thunder Bird's flight, blinked
and turned their faces from the dust storm kicked up by the exhaust.
The plane shook, ran forward faster and faster, lifted its little
wheels off the ground and went whirring away toward the dark blur of
the mountains that rimmed the southern edge of the valley.

Johnny circled twice, getting suff