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 "How would you like to make some easy money?" I was asked.

"How?"

"Bringing some stuff across the border."

Stuff—liquor, aliens or dope?

"Liquor?" I guessed.

My philanthropic friend shrugged his shoulders. "A woman can get by where a man can't. No one would ever suspect you. There's not a thing to be afraid of. You could do it easy."

It was a pretty compliment, but I declined.

One day I went up with my plane to establish its ceiling—that is, to see how high it would go.

There is a point in altitude beyond which, of course, a given plane cannot climb, just as with automobiles, there is a limit to the grade that can be negotiated and a speed that can be attained. In flying, an added factor is entailed, in the rarification of atmosphere with height, which affects plane, motor and personnel.

To make the record official I asked the rep-