did it. But they won't keep me long. Dick
Seaton will find me, I know. I feel it."

"But that's exactly what they want!" cried Margaret excitedly. "In my
spying around I heard a little about this very thing--the name Seaton
brings it to my mind. His car is broken in some way, so that it will
kill him the first time he tries to run it."

"That's where they underestimated Dick and his partner. You have heard
of Martin Crane, of course?"

"I think I heard his name mentioned in the office, together with
Seaton's, but that's all."

"Well, besides other things, Martin is quite a wonderful mechanic, and
he found out that our Skylark was spoiled. So they built another one, a
lot bigger, and I am sure that they are following us, right now."

"But how can they possibly follow us, when we are going so fast and are
so far away?" queried the other girl, once more despondent.

"I don't quite know, but I do know that Dick will find a way. He's
simply wonderful. He knows more now than that Doctor DuQuesne will ever
learn in all his life, and he will find us in a few days. I feel it in
my bones. Besides, I picked Perkins' pockets of these two pistols. Can
you shoot an automatic?"

"Yes," replied the other girl, as she seized one of the guns, assured
herself that its magazine was full, and slipped it into her pocket. "I
used to practise a lot with my father's. This makes me feel a whole lot
better. And call me Peggy, won't you? It will seem good to hear my name
again. After what I've been through lately, even this trip will be a
vacation for me."

"Well, then, cheer up, Peggy dear, we're going to be great friends.
Let's go get us all something to eat. I'm simply starved, and I know you
are, too."

* * * * *

The presence of the pistol in her pocket and Dorothy's unwavering faith
in her lover, lifted the stranger out of the mood of despair into which
the long imprisonment, the brutal treatment, and the present situation
had plunged her, and she was almost cheerful as they drew themselves
along the hand-rail leading to the tiny galley.

"I simply can't get used to the idea of nothing having any weight--look
here!" laughed Dorothy, as she took a boiled ham out of the refrigerator
and hung it upon an imaginary hook in the air, where it remained
motionless. "Doesn't it make you feel funny?"

"It is a queer sensation. I feel light, like a toy balloon, and I feel
awfully weird inside. If we have no