trewn about the
running board in his pretended trouble hunt Pauline had dashed away her
tears and transferred her pretty self to the new car. Pauline and Owen
both knew there was barely time to reach the field before the
Frenchman's ascent. So with scanty farewells Harry was left to
reassemble his car. When he had set up the last nut he replaced the
little plug in the tank, produced a can of gasoline from the locker
behind the seats, emptied it into his tank and drove at reckless speed
for the aviation grounds.

He was just in time to see a tiny speck on the edge of the horizon.
This, he learned, was the Frenchman's machine. He was told that it
carried a passenger. The speck grew rapidly in size, developed the
insect shape of a biplane and soon seemed to be over the other end of
the aviation field. The young man's joy at seeing the aeroplane
returning in safety was dampened by a little feeling of shame that by
such devious means he had almost spoiled Pauline's pleasure.

"I act like an old woman worrying Polly this way," he decided. "No
wonder she is cross to me lately. She must think I would be a tyrant
of a--"

Harry's last words were choked by a spasm of the throat.

There were shouts and gestures from the spectators.

A light gust of wind had struck the aeroplane on the right wing. It
wavered an instant, like a dragon fly about to alight, and then instead
of responding to the aviator's levers turned on its left side and
plunged to the ground. A cloud of dust arose, half hiding the wreck,
and then the crash of impact came to his ears.

There was a second of silence, broken by a groan. Harry heard the
groan and didn't even know it came from his own throat. He was in
motion now, forcing people to the right and left and running down the
field. It seemed miles to the other end, and he was gratefully
conscious that others nearer were hurrying to the rescue, if rescue it
might be called.

The aeroplane had dropped like a stone from a height that forbade hope
of escape. Would she be conscious and would he be in time to give and
receive a last message of love before her splendid young life was
quenched in the black blot of death? Besides grief there was fury in
the runner's heart, wrath against Owen for encouraging this foolish and
dangerous caprice, against the unfortunate driver who had failed to
preserve his precious freight, and against nature who condemns every
living thing by one means or anothe