“A pilot that ain’t married usually hasn’t got a habit of savin’ his money--and I’ve spent all mine, till lately. But if I had to buy a house and a lot of furniture, right now, I couldn’t do it. But with that purse in my pocket--five thousand dollars--it wouldn’t be so hard! I want to do that, Mr. Alton. I want to win that race, and then step up to you, and say, ‘Sir, I want to marry your daughter!’” Mr. Alton smiled. “From Jane’s conversation at home, which has just two subjects--flyin’ and Ned--I’d suspected the situation.” He chuckled. “I’d rather have a pilot for a son-in-law than anybody else, and of all the pilots I know, you rate highest with me, Ned. Well, after you win that race, and step up to me, and say your say, I’ll talk with you about it!” “Thanks!” Mr. Alton walked out of the hangar, havin’ said _his_ say to us--which was plenty. For a few minutes I was stunned. Things was comin’ too fast for me. That whole big plant, out there, was in danger of vanishin’. Those peppy little Altons were in danger of eventually droppin’ out of the air. Altons had been the subject of our talk and dreams for years, and if they went--it would be worse than a death in the family. And yet, there the whole matter was, flat up and lookin’ us in the face-- and all of us swore, right then, that this Alton _had_ to win that race! I turned and got to work on it--and how I began to work! Somethin’ that happened behind me sounded a whole lot like a kiss. “So!” said Jane Alton. “You think, do you, Ned Knight, that you’re goin’ to win me in a race as though I was a kewpie doll on a rack?” “Why--” “And if you don’t win the race, you won’t ask me to marry you at all?” “Well, gosh!” “Young man,” said Jane in her most business-like manner, “I have somethin’ to say to you--in private!” She tugged him out of the hangar. Beyond the doors I could hear ’em whisperin’. Then they moved away, and I didn’t see either of ’em again that day--because I wasn’t lookin’ at anythin’ but that plane. I worked on her like a maniac. I forgot lunch and dinner and kept workin’ on her till my arms were about ready to drop off. I wouldn’t let anybody else touch her. I tested her everywhere, tuned her to the prettiest pitch she could give, tightened her everywhere she would tighten. There wasn’t any dingus on that plane that I overlooked. When I called a halt it was after midnight. Then I put blankets beside her, and tried to go to sleep; but I couldn’t sleep. I had to get up and look her over again. Every half hour after that I was up, to make sure I’d tested somethin’ that I thought I _might_ have overlooked. I couldn’t stay away from that plane. Too much was dependin’ on it and the shape it was in. And at last, as I was for the tenth time feelin’ over the control wires, I saw light comin’ through the cracks of the door, and I knew it was tomorrow. The day of the Trans-state Air Derby had come! * * * * *