to do a little straightaway flying without landing on your tail," Bland
fleered, with the impatience of the seasoned flyer for the novice who
thinks well of himself and his newly acquired skill. "Say, that was
some bump you give yourself on the dome when we lit over there in that
sand patch. I tried to tell yuh that sand looked loose--"

"Yes, you did--not! You was scared stiff. Your face looked like the
inside of a raw bacon rind!"

"Sure, I was scared. So would you of been if you'd a known as much
about it as I knew. I knew we was due to pile up, when you grabbed the
control away from me. You'll make a flyer, all right--and a good one,
if yuh last long enough. But you can't learn it all in a day, bo--take
it from me. Anyway, I got no kick to make. It was you and the plane
that got the bumps. All I done was bite my tongue half off!"

Boy that he was, Johnny laughed over this. The idea of Bland biting
his tongue tickled him and served to blur his antagonism for the tricky
aviator who had played so large a part in his salvaging of this very
airplane.

"Uh course you'll laugh--but you wasn't laughing then. I'll say you
wasn't. I thought you was croaked. Cost something to repair the
plane, too. I'm saying it did. Had to have a new propeller, and a new
crank-case for the motor--cost the old man at the ranch close to three
hundred dollars before I turned her over to him, ready to take the air
again. That's including what he paid me, of course. But I guess you
know what it cost, when he handed you the bill."

This was news to Johnny, news that made his soul squirm. Lying there