lan, she thought, to appeal to his conscience--if he had one, which she
rather doubted. She would point out to him, in a kind, firm tone, that
his first duty, indeed, his only duty, lay in serving the Rolling R
faithfully. Trying to build flying machines on the sly was not serving
the Rolling R, and Johnny could not fail to see it once she pointed it
out to him.

But Johnny was far afield, appeasing his conscience by riding the range
and locating the horse herds. He did not return to camp at noon, for he
found it physically impossible to ride past the rock wall without
turning into the niche to see what Bland Halliday was doing, and to make
sure that the airplane was a reality and not one of his dreams.

Bland was down under the corner of the damaged wing, swearing to himself
and tacking linen to mend the jagged hole broken through the covering by
the skid. He ducked his head and peered out at Johnny morosely.

"Get down here and I'll show yuh how to do this, so I can go at that
tail. I just wanted to get it started, so I could turn it over to you--in
case you ever showed up again!"

"I haven't time now to help," Johnny demurred. "I've got a big strip of
country to ride, this afternoon. The horses are scattered--"

"Say, listen here, bo. You've got a big strip of linen to tack this
afternoon, and don't overlook that fact. Fast as we can, I want to get it
on so the dope can be hardening. I've figured out how we can save time,
so if the motor's all right, we can maybe get outa this damn country in
ten days. If you don't lay down on the job, that is, and make me do it
all." He crawled out and got stiffly to his feet, rubbing a cramped elbow
and eying Johnny sourly.

"Can't help it, Bland; I've got other work to-day. Boss'll fire me if I
don't make--"

"For cat's sake, what do I care about the boss? You're going to quit
anyway, ain't you, soon as we're ready to fly?"

"We-ell, yes, of course. But I'd have to give him time to get some one in
my place. They're working short-handed as it is. I couldn't just--"

"You're laying down on me; that's what you're doing. Look how I've sweat
all forenoon on that darned wing! Got the frame fixed, all ready for the
linen to go back on; I've _worked_ to-day, if anybody should ask you!
Oughta have that glue, but I'm making out with what little old Abe sent.
And you ain't lifted a hand. It ain't right. I can't do it _all_, and you
ride around once in awhile to stall me off with how