* * * * * The girl wasn’t around in the evening, and just before dark, when the air was pretty calm, Russ and I took a couple of ships up and played around a bit. Russ had the Old Lady and he had her within three feet of my left wing-tip several times. When we came down Bob grinned at us. “It’ll go fine!” he stated enthusiastically. “She could have reached up and made the transfer a half dozen times--just now.” Russ nodded. “Sure she could,” he returned grimly. “But there wasn’t any camera-ship in the air.” Bob eyed Russ narrowly. “Look here,” he said slowly. “This little girl’s all right, Russ. The camera people picked her for the stunt--she didn’t pick them. I don’t like the way you talked to her today.” Russ swore softly. “How about the way she talked to _me_?” he asked. “She thinks the Old Lady is an air wreck. And I aim to show her that--” “Oh, that--you don’t worry me any there,” Bob cut in. “That lady has looped a ship sixty-two times in succession. She jumped twelve times. You can’t scare her any. I’m not bothering about that any. But she’s a lady and--” “So’s the Jenny!” Russ interrupted grimly. “She’s no wreck, that plane. Lady West said she doubted if that Jenny could get altitude. Well, I hope she dresses warm tomorrow.” I stared at Russ. That was the bunk. The ceiling of the Old Lady wasn’t so much that either Russ or the girl would be apt to catch even a mild cold, and he knew it. So did Bob Brooks. He shook his head slowly. “It’s a nice job, this transfer,” he said slowly. “And we need the coin. Don’t muss it up, either of you fellows.” “Give the same advice to the camera-ship pilot,” Russ muttered. “He’ll need it most.” Bob had started away, but he turned around, a grin on his face. “Not _that_ boy,” he said quietly. “He’s the guy who gave Miss West that little sparkler she’s wearing on a certain finger.” I chuckled. Russ Healy groaned. “Makes it worse yet!” he stated. “He’ll be nervous when she starts to grab for the loop on the Old Lady’s wing-tip. Well, maybe she’ll get sick before tomorrow, or something.” I grinned. “That queers your game, Russ,” I stated as Bob walked away. “If you pull anything funny after the girl gets aboard the Old Lady--that camera-ship pilot will be waiting for you to come down.” Russ Healy’s eyes were narrowed. He had a peculiar expression on his lean, browned face. “Mac,” he said slowly, “they can say things about me--but not about that Jenny. The Old Lady is all right. When they talk like that girl talked--I’ve got to show them they’re wrong. Tomorrow--I’m showing her.” I didn’t like his tone. It was a little too grim. “How?” I asked curiously. But Russ just lighted another pill and glanced up toward the darkening sky. “Maybe we’ll get a break, Mac,” he returned after a little silence. “_Maybe_ the picture stuff will go all right. And if it does--well, you’ll see how a certain clever little lady learns something about the Jenny.”