He could turn his mind wholly to the accomplishment of another feat which would take all his nerve.
That other thing had looked simple enough in contemplation, but the actual doing of it presented complications.

The simplicity of the plan vanished with the sighting of those two scouting planes that persisted in paralleling his course and herding him away from the line he fain would cross.
Tia Juana with its flat-roofed adobes lay ahead of him now, its lights twinkling like fallen stars.

Away off to the right he could see the blurred lights of San Diego and the phosphorescent gleam of the bay and ocean beyond.

Beautiful beyond words was the broad view he got, but its beauty could only vaguely impress him then, though he might later recall it wistfully.
He looked toward San Diego with longing; looked at the two planes that hounded him, then gazed straight ahead at the ocean.

Perhaps they would not follow him beyond their station at North Island.