And it did not seem possible to him that he could fall.

He was master of a machine that was master of the air.

He was riding the sky--and Mary V was there, riding with him, absolutely confident that he would not let her be hurt.
He did not attempt any "fancy stunts," such as Bland had done.

He merely climbed to where he dared circle, then circled deliberately, carefully.
When he came about so that the sun was warming his right shoulder, he flew straight for the Rolling R ranch, like a homing pigeon at sunset.
It was exhilarating--it was wonderful! Johnny, knowing the country so well, avoided passing over the roughest places, keeping well out from the hills, and into the smoother flow over the broad levels.

The drone of the motor was a triumphal song.