“I’m not asking you for your advice.” That harsh voice was none other than Mrs. Pollzoff’s.
“You’re gettin’ it gratis, see! When the Boss finds out how you balled up the works you’re going to get plenty, I don’t care how much of a drag you have with him. He told you what to do and you didn’t do as he ordered--”
“No, I won’t. You haven’t got a leg to stand on--”
“I tell you the girl was having us spied on--”
“You can tell me all you like, but I don’t believe it, see? Now, this stunt you want to pull is a fizzle--and you’ll get thrown as sure as you’re born. You were told to stay here and look after the girl--”
“How do you know so much about what I was told?”
“That’s an easy one. I was told that when the pair of you got here you’d stay, see, so I know those were your orders. If you found you were spied on, you had your orders to go on to Miami and keep away from here, and you were to keep out of the pilot seat. Instead of that you signaled that you were coming along O.K. and it wasn’t until the re-fill that anyone knew you were at the controls--”
“I brought the plane through, didn’t I? And I gave the fellows that were spying on us the slip, didn’t I?” There was proud defiance in her tone.
“I’m not so sure that you did. You got here, yes, with the girl almost dead, and you flew the plane to satisfy your own conceit--”
“This plane belongs to me, understand, I’m doing what I please with it and you are obeying my orders regarding it! Bear that in mind. I made up my mind I was going to have it the first time I rode in it, if I had to steal it.”
“Yes!” Wat remarked without much interest.
“Yes. Now I’ve got it, it’s mine, I’m keeping it in payment for the buckshot that girl’s father peppered on my chin. As long as there is the faintest sign of a scar, I’ll feel they are still in my debt.” She spoke with such passion that Roberta gasped in amazement and horror.
“Yes. Well, all I’ve got to say is that it’s a pity her father had such darned poor aim--.” Just then an engine roared and cut off further remarks, and Roberta leaped to her feet, for she recognized Nike’s thunder. A moment later it rounded a curve and came rushing swiftly along the hard stretch of beach.
“Oh, they have painted her white,” the girl gasped. Sure enough, Nike, all her own beautiful trimming concealed under the color which would make her hardest to pick out in the sky, was rushing forward swiftly, gaining speed at every turn of her whirling propeller. With an exclamation of dismay, Roberta started to run across the beach to her beloved machine and at that moment, Mrs. Pollzoff saw her. The woman’s expression grew uglier than anything the girl had ever seen in her life and with a lurch Nike was spun around sharply; it was tearing after her and in another minute she would be cut to pieces in that cruel wheel. The plane’s nose was pointed directly at the girl, rushing like some maddened demon to destroy her. There was no time to think or act. The only thing she could do was drop flat on her face and pray.
