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 My seat was aft the wings; and Pete lay on his face upon the lower wing, clinging to the leading edge, with his heels out behind. The upper wing screened him from me but for his feet. He lifted them quickly in a kick, as though he knew I was looking and he meant to tell me he was all right and I was to go on. But I thought again, as I glanced at his heels, that he must have made some monstrous mistake. Why would that girl have tried to kill him? Yet, if she had not, why would he have said so? How had her glove happened to be, yesterday, beside Kent?

My idea that she might, from lack of skill, have blundered into Pete's plane no longer was tenable. She evidenced no lack of skill at flying. Higher than we and far ahead of us, she continued to climb until at last she touched the ceiling and went through.

She vanished. No; here she was again, diving, pointed not away from us but toward us. I heard a yell and Pete's heels kicked violently. He had seen her, returning. I put to the right and she put to the left and was at us.

No doubt at all, whatever had been my