"Well, you'll be more comfortable in a fur-lined leather suit,"
asserted Tom. "And if it does make you look like an Eskimo, why
I'm sure it will be very becoming. Not that you don't look nice
now," he hastened to assure Miss Nestor, "but an aviation suit
will be very--well, fetching, I should say."

"If I could be sure it would 'fetch' me back safe, Tom--"

"That'll do! That'll do!" laughed the young aviator. "One joke
like that is enough in a morning. It was pretty good, though. Now
go on in and tog up."

"You're sure it's safe, Tom?"

"Positive! Trot along now. I want to fix a wire and--"

"Oh, is anything broken?" and the girl, who had started away
from the aeroplane, turned back again.

"No, not broken. It's only a little auxiliary dingus I put on
to make it easier to read the barograph, but I think I'll go back
to the old system. Nothing to do with flying at all, except to
tell how high up one is."

"That's just what I don't care to know, Tom," said Mary Nestor,
with a smile. "If I could imagine I was sailing along only about
ten feet in the air I wouldn't mind so much."

"Flying at that height would be the worst sort of danger. You
leave it to me, Mary. I won't take you up above the clouds on