Peggy's age, though rather stouter. In harmony with the color of the
machine she drove, the newly arrived girl aviator wore a green aviation
costume, with a close-fitting motor bonnet. From the beruffled edge of
this some golden strands of hair had escaped, and waved above two
laughing blue eyes.

"Hello, people!" she hailed, as the porch party hastily adjourned and
ran to welcome her, "how's that for a novice only recently out of the
Mineola School?"

"Bess Marshall, you're a wonder!" cried Peggy, embracing her; "the
_Dart_ is the prettiest little machine I've seen for a long time."

"Isn't it a darling," agreed Bess warmly, "but, my! how I had to beg and
pray dad before he would buy it for me. He said that no daughter of his
should ever go up in an aëroplane, much less drive one. It wasn't till I
got him down at Mineola and persuaded him to take a ride himself that he
consented to buying me my dear little _Dart_."

She laid one daintily gloved hand on the steering wheel of the little
monoplane and patted it affectionately.

"It's pretty enough, but it wouldn't fly very far," commented Roy
teasingly, "sort of aërial taxicab, I'd call it."

"Is that so, Mr. Roy Prescott? Well, I'd like you to know that the
_Dart_ could fly just as far and as fast as the _Red Dragon_ or the
_Golden Butterfly_."

"Well, if you wanted to take a trip to North Carolina with us you'd have