That’s all we know. It’s urgent. We must go through!”

“Okay, sister, that’s why you should fly right on.”

“But we won’t.” The girl spoke quietly. “If you crack up, we’ll be right down. This ship has control. I can land her on a dime.”

“But don’t forget—”

“I never forget,” the girl snapped. “Now go on down there and try your luck. It’s all that’s left to do.”

“What’d he mean—secret?” The blonde-haired girl who sat in the co-pilot seat beside the girl who had carried on that spirited conversation, drawled, “What secret?”

“Sorry, Janet,” was the slow reply. “You’ve heard of military secrets, I suppose?”

“For Pete’s sake, Mary Mason! Yes! Of course, I have, but I don’t see—”

“This is one of them.” Mary Mason, the little girl who piloted a big plane, favored her with a smile.

After that, save for the slow drone of motors, there was quiet in the cabin, a tense sort of calm, such as comes before a storm. After a time the blonde-haired Janet said:

“Sparky’s motors didn’t stop all by themselves.”

“Of course they didn’t. Sparky’s too good a pilot for that.”

“He sure is. It’s the work of the enemy. That’s what it is. He knows. He’s after us, after you and Sparky, Don and me. He’s got us coming down in a jungle and we’re only just out of good, old U.S.A. And think of the dizzy miles still ahead of us! And the enemy dogging our luck all the way!”

“I thought of him before I started,” Mary replied quietly. “Let him do his worst. We’ll win, you’ll see!”

For the swift, powerful twin-motored transport plane flown by Mary Mason, the distance to that native clearing on the Rio Branco was just a jump, but she did not jump. Instead she followed doggedly on behind her limping companion. And as she followed, she found time to think. Those were long, long thoughts.

She was a member of the WAFS, Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron, this slender girl with the flashing black eyes and trigger-quick fingers. For six wintry months she had flown planes from east to west, from 

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