“But, Mary,” his voice changed, “don’t think of it that way. You’ll tighten up if you do. That might prove fatal. You have to be relaxed, flexible, ready for anything. That’s how you have to be.”

“I—I’ll try to forget that cargo,” she agreed.

“Well,” he breathed, “here’s our ship all primed up and rarin’ to go. Come on. Let’s climb up.”

Once again he handed her the “Form One” card. This time she studied it with supreme care. It told her that the engines were in perfect order, that the tubes of carbon dioxide snow for fire prevention were full as were their oxygen tubes, and that fuel and oil supply were at their maximum.

When she had studied the card, she nodded to Sparky, and at once, he began thumbing the oil gage.

“Do you always check your oil supply?” she asked.

“Always,” was the emphatic reply, “regardless of the report on the card, test your fuel. If you want to keep on living, you’ll always do that. Men are human. An attendant may read your report, note that your No. 1 tank is short a hundred gallons, record that he is putting that amount in, then discover that he has but fifty gallons to spare. He forgets to record the change and—”

“Right out over an endless forest your engine coughs and dies. No gas—I see,” she replied soberly.

“Gas and oil okay,” Sparky murmured. Then in silence he flipped on the ignition and gas, set the electric primer going, counted five, allowed it to snap off, then nodded to his mechanic. The mechanic grinned as he held up a carbon-dioxide fire extinguisher.

“That’s one more thing,” Sparky warned. “Don’t ever start twin motors unless someone is near with the fire bottle. And don’t you let me do it!”

“Is that so bad?” Mary asked.

“Worst in the world,” Sparky exploded. “If one motor fails to start popping, you’ll have a fire in your exhaust pipe.... A fire bottle will put it out in a hurry. But if there’s no fire bottle your ship will go up in smoke. A fire of high octane gas is something to think about!”

He started the energizing wheel going, waited a space of seconds, then threw on the fuel-booster switch. First the right engine began coughing. Mary worked her two levers that enriched the fuel mixture. Sparky eased his throttle back to one thousand, then nodded to the mechanic. The mechanic 

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