over the edge of the indicated water--and he pushed back the little
lever on the clock mechanism that rolled the chart. "We have a
little head wind," he added.

Ethel resumed her seat and sat musing for a half hour or so. Komoru
looked around and called to her.

"Look over to your left," he said. "The lights of Vera Cruz. We are
making better time now," he added, again adjusting the regulator on
the clock work.

The driver contemplated his compass carefully and shifted his course
a few points to the right. Ethel settled in her bamboo cage and
pulled her aviation cap down tightly to shield her face and ears
from the wind pressure.

For hours they sat so--the girl's heart throbbing with awe, wonder
and fear; the man unemotional and silent, a steady, firm hand on the
wheel, his feet on the engine controls and his goggled eyes glancing
critically at compass or watch or out into the starlit waste of the
night, disturbed only by the whirl and shadow of other planes which
with varying speed passed or were passed, as the aerial host rushed
onward. There were only small tail lights, one above and one below
the main plane, to warn following drivers against collision.


* * *

With her head bent low upon her knees, Ethel at length fell into a
doze. She was aroused by Komoru's calling, and straightening up with