he turned and, banking his wings and lifting the ailerons,
moved smoothly in the direction suggested. Half an hour later Ernest
again motioned, this time for a turn to the left.

It was not until days after their arrival at Sill that Ernest thought to
tell Bill that the unexpected and seemingly unnecessary deviations from
the straight course were merely to try him out. An hour or so later when
Ernest saw that they were passing over a strip of country where good
landing places seemed plentiful, he indicated a dip and Bill executed it
perfectly. He felt proud of himself now, and said, "Tail up, tail up!"
repeatedly, as he felt the plane drop earthward. Reaching a lower level,
Ernest nodded and they sailed on a straight-away flight, their eyes
turned ever to the far-away goal in the west.

Bill was unconscious of the passing time. They had had a heavy and
sustaining breakfast, and luncheon was forgotten. There was no time to
stop if they had been hungry. But Ernest was thinking of many things.

He carefully scanned the country they were passing over for a landing
place. Bill's face was well covered with the flaps of his helmet and the
wings of his goggles, but Ernest fancied that the young aviator was
pale. He felt that they must land for awhile. Even now they were many
hours ahead of the time they would have made on a railroad train. He
indicated an upward course, and Bill rose as they raced over a flat and
open part of the country. Far ahead there lay what seemed to be an open
plain dotted at long intervals with small villages. A pleasant farming
district evidently, far from any large city. Ernest was sure that he
could get gasoline in any hamlet, and there seemed to be plenty of
landing places. The only question remaining was Bill's ability to get
down without a smash. Ernest smiled. He was fatalist enough to be
willing to risk what _had_ to be risked.

The sun was well in the west. They seemed to be flying straight into the
blazing disk when Ernest, pointing to a wide plain far ahead, touched
Bill and told him with a gesture to go down and land.

Bill gave a short nod and prepared to obey. There flashed into his head
a saying of Tom's, "Anybuddy can fly, but it's the landing that hurts."

Bill felt everything--their safety, his own self-respect and Ernest's
confidence in him--rested on this last and different test. He could not
conceive of a reason for landing, but Ernest said land, so land it was!

At any rate,