Hal didn’t know exactly what to say, But his mother went on, “I think we’re beaten, Hal. Do you want to go to the mountains with your friends?” Nobody there knew the effort that that sentence cost Mrs. Gregg, but she had said it, and she stood committed. Hal was at a still greater loss as what to reply. His heart was beating wildly. There was nothing that he desired more now than to go to the mountains, but he felt the effort that his mother had put behind her words. Should he go? He wanted to. He wanted to show them that he wasn’t afraid. And he wouldn’t be afraid, either. Not any more. Other people, little fellows, too, had done things, had gone places, and they weren’t afraid. So Hal said, “Well, I’d like to.” “If you wish to, you may,” said Mrs. Gregg. Bob, who had listened breathlessly to this conversation, could restrain himself no longer. “Whoopee!” he yelled. “Hal’s coming along! Hal’s coming along!” He jumped up and started to execute a war dance, dragging Hal after him. Captain Bill was pleased. His story had made a hit—more of a hit than he had even hoped for. CHAPTER IX—Four Women Flyers Mrs. Martin, too, was pleased. She had gained her point, and now had another surprise for the company. “Did it ever occur to you that there are famous flyers who aren’t men? It’s just like you to neglect the women altogether.” “Aw,” said Bob, “we can’t go telling stories about women. We’re sticking to men.” “It seems to me that the women oughtn’t to be neglected,” said his mother. “After all, when we women do things, we like to be recognized.” The Captain broke in, then. “Well, how about some of the women? he asked. Of course, being a woman yourself, you can’t enter our story-telling contest, but you can amuse us from a purely amateur love of getting in your feminine licks.” Mrs. Martin smiled in the dark. “You think that I won’t,” she said. “But I will. I’ve been doing reading of my own, you know.” “Tell away, Mater,” said Bob. “You’re better than any of us.” Mrs. Martin began her story. “There are four women who stand head and shoulders above the rest in the United States,” she said, “when it comes to flying. They are that oddly-assorted group—tall, slender, boyish Amelia Earhart, who’s Amelia Earhart Putnam, now; little Elinor Smith, who doesn’t weigh much over a hundred pounds: medium-sized, gracious and charming Ruth Nichols, who belongs to the Junior League; and short, sturdy, daring Laura Ingalls.