eneral public knew and admired without a thought for
his personal traits.

"About how high?" he leaned back to ask. "High enough so the hum won't be
noticed on the ground? Or do you want to fly lower?"

"Top of your head means high, and on the neck, low," Johnny promptly
finished his code. Having thus made a code keyboard of Bland's person,
he settled himself with his guns beside him.

Bland eased on the power, glancing unconsciously to the right and left
ailerons, as he always did when he started.

The buzz of the motor grew louder and louder, the big plane quivered,
started down the barren strip toward the reddening east, skimmed lighter
and lighter the ground, rose straight and true, and went whirring away
into the barbaric splendor of the dawn.

CHAPTER TWENTY

MEN ARE STUPID

Into that same dawn light filed the riders of the Rolling R, driving
before them a small _remuda_. Behind them clucked the loaded chuck wagon,
the leathery-faced cook braced upon the front seat, his booted feet far
spread upon the scarred dashboard, his arms swaying stiffly to the pull
of the four-horse team. Behind him still came the hoodlum wagon with its
water barrels joggling sloppily behind the seat. Little Curley drove
that, and little Curley's face was sober. It had been whispered in the
bunk house that Skyrider was deep in disgrace, and Curley was worried.

On the porch of the bungalow Sudden stood with his morning cigar
unlighted in his fingers, watching the little cavaleade swing past to the
gate. He waved his cigar beckoningly to Bill Hayden, turned his head to
shake it at something Mary V had said from the doorway, and waited for
Bill to ride close.

Mary V, camouflaged in her blue negligee worn over her riding clothes,
came out and stood insistently, her two hands clasped around Sudden's
unwilling arm.

"No, sir, dad, I'm not going back to bed. I'm going to say every little
thing I want to say, and you and Bill have both got to listen. Get off
that horse, Bill. He makes me nervous, dancing around like that. Heaven
knows I'm just about raving distracted, as it is. Dad, give Bill that
cigar so he won't look quite so disagreeable."

Bill looked inquiringly at Sudden. It did not seem to him that even so
spoiled an offspring as Mary V should be permitted to delay him now, when
minutes counted for a good deal. He wished briefly that Mary V belonged
to him; Bill mistakenly believed that he would know how to handle he