Well, he had soared high above many miles of barrenness. That dream could be dreamed no more, since its magic vapors had been dissipated in the bright sun of reality. He could no longer dream of flying, any more than he could build air castles over riding a horse. Neither could he rack his soul with thoughts of Mary V Selmer, wondering whether she would ever get to caring much for a fellow. Mary V had demonstrated with much frankness that she cared. He knew the feel of her arms around his neck, the look of her face close to his own, the sweet thrill of her warm young lips against his. He had bought her a modest little ring, and had watched the shine of it on the third finger of her tanned left hand when she left him--going gloveless that the ring might shine up at her. The first episode of her life thus happily finished, Johnny was looking with round, boyish, troubled eyes upon the second. "Long-distance call for you, Mr. Jewel," the clerk announced, when Johnny strolled into the Argonaut hotel in Tucson for his mail. "Just came in. The girl at the switchboard will connect you with the party." Johnny glanced into his empty key box and went on to the telephone desk. It was Mary V, he guessed. He had promised to call her up, but there hadn't been any news to tell, nothing but the flat monotony of inaction, which meant failure, and Johnny Jewel never liked talking of his failures, even to Mary V. "Oh, Johnny, is that you? I've been waiting and _waiting_, and I just wondered if you had enlisted and gone off to war without even calling up to say good-by. I've been perfectly _frantic_. There's something--" "You needn't worry about me enlisting," Johnny broke in, his voice the essence of gloom. "They won't have me." "Won't _have_--why, Johnny Jewel! How _can_ the United States Army be so stupid? Why, I should think they would be glad to get--" "They don't look at me from your point of view, Mary V." Johnny's lips softened into a smile. She was a great little girl, all right. If it were left to her, the world would get down on its marrow bones and worship Johnny Jewel. "Why? Well, they won't take me and my airplane as a gift. Won't have us around. They'll take me on as a common buck trooper, and that's all. And I can't afford--" "Well, but Johnny! Don't they know what a perfectly wonderful flyer you are? Why, I should think--" "They won't have me in aviation at all, even without the plane," said Johnny. "The papers came back to-day. I was turned down--flat on my face! Gol darn 'em, they can do without me now!" "Well, I should say so!" cried Mary V's thin, indignant voice in his ear. "How perfectly idiotic! I didn't want you to go, anyway. Now you'll come back to the ranch, won't you, Johnny?" The voice had turned wheedling. "We can have the duckiest times, flying around! Dad'll give you a tremendously good--"