Brent Stockton’s enemies, after that one last attempt, seemed to fade into obscurity. Work on the two planes went forward rapidly. If nothing else happened to deter them the planes would be ready in ample time for the races. Bruce and Gale were frequent visitors at the airport as were all the Adventure Girls. The secrecy which, despite their presence, still surrounded the planes intrigued them. Then, too, there was always the hope of more excitement.

As the day for the races neared more planes began landing on the Marchton field. Pilots from all over the country brought their entries.

“It’s going to be the most exciting thing that ever happened in Marchton,” declared Janet.

“And I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Madge echoed. “Do you suppose there will be many entries in the parachute jump?”

A special woman’s amateur parachute jumping contest was announced by a big yellow flag which blew in the breeze above the main hangar.

“Well, here is one who isn’t going into it,” Valerie declared vigorously and the rest laughed.

Gale was standing with Bruce while Brent warmed the engine of his Silver Arrow, the black and silver plane.

“Don’t forget you promised to take me up,” she called.

He nodded. “Going to fly your father to Quebec tonight. Perhaps we can take you along.”

Gale shivered in gleeful anticipation. That would be better than a ride merely circling the field.

“Do you think it is wise to go up with him in that?” Bruce murmured as he walked beside Gale back to town.

The fall day was sunshiny and cool and they had decided on the walk to rouse a good appetite for dinner.

“Why not?” Gale asked suspiciously.

“Well, you don’t know whether the motor is perfect or not,” he said. “Suppose something went wrong. You might crash.”

“Oh, don’t be such a Weary Willie!” Gale said impatiently. “Brent is one of the best pilots there is. Didn’t he fly that anti-toxin up to Alaska to those Eskimos last year and save hundreds of lives? If he could do that he can take us to Quebec tonight. He can handle his plane perfectly. Besides, he has already tested it.”

“The race is tomorrow. You might not be back in time,” Bruce added.

“Oh, yes, we will!” Gale said. “Nothing could make Brent miss that and you know it.”

“Just the same——” Bruce said uncomfortably.

They waited until the cloud of dust raised by a passing motor vehicle had died down before they resumed their walk.

“You see a lot of Brent, don’t you?” Bruce mused. “He takes you to the movies, out here at the airport——”

“Well?” Gale said with ominous quiet in her voice.

“It seems funny,” Bruce continued. “And another thing—you are neglecting your studies. If you aren’t careful you won’t pass the college exams and then where will you be?”

Gale whirled on him suddenly. Her eyes were dark with fury, her cheeks blazed with color.

“If I flunk it will be my fault and nobody else’s,” she declared angrily. “You don’t have to lecture to me about it either. I’ll do as I please—go where I please and with whom I please!”

Bruce merely looked at her when she whirled and set off down the road alone.

Gale was in a temper. Bruce had added the final touch to a smouldering conflagration. He was not the first one to remark on how she was neglecting her studies, but his words had burst the dam of resentment that had been welling up within her. She was angry that he should try to tell her what to do. His patronizing tone had set her aflame with self-justification. She tramped along, her eyes stormy, looking neither to the right nor left. When Bruce stepped quietly into pace beside her she did not look at him.

Gradually her temper abated somewhat. She could hear a few remaining birds singing in the fields to her right. Birds preparing to fly south before the long months of winter. The last rays of the afternoon sun were warm. She stole a cautious look at Bruce. He was watching the clouds overhead. Clouds like giant white sailboats on an ocean of azure blue. She frowned but this time not at him, at herself. After all she needn’t have snapped at him the way she did. He was only trying to give her some good advice.

“Bruce——” she began slowly.

He smiled at her. “I know,” he said, “forget it.”

The rest of the walk to her home was covered in complete harmony.

After dinner Gale drove with her father out to the airport. The Silver Arrow was standing in the white light of the field. The searchlight circled slowly. Numerous planes stood near the shelter of the hangars.

Mr. Howard had to interview a witness for a court case he was presenting. It was important that he do it as soon as possible and when Brent had volunteered to fly him to Quebec Mr. Howard accepted gladly. At first he had refused to consider taking Gale along but his daughter had finally coaxed permission from him.

Gleefully Gale climbed into the cockpit and squeezed into a tiny corner while her father took his place beside her. Up ahead Brent manipulated the controls. Stubby was at the propeller.

“Contact!”

The call was borne back to Gale on the wind. The propeller spun around. Slowly the plane taxied across the field, rising gently in the face of the wind. Once Brent circled the field, the bright lights, people and planes below them like a miniature city, then he streaked away into the north.

Stubby watched until the bright searchlight could no longer trace them. The blackness of the plane had melted into the blackness of the sky. The mechanic smiled contentedly and made his way to Brent’s private hangar to stand guard over the yellow ship. His boss’ plane had responded to every lightest suggestion of the controls. If everything went as well tomorrow as it had gone in the tests during the last few days there could be no doubt that Brent would win the races and probably sell his patent to the government. So Stubby mused on while he sat in the cockpit of the yellow plane and waited for the return of the Silver Arrow.