Bland protested, with his usual whine against extra work, and got a look from Johnny that sent him hurrying around the plane to make his regular before-flying inspection.
Fifteen minutes after Johnny's arrival the plane was quivering outside on the flying field, and Bland was pulling down his goggles while Johnny kicked a small rock away from a wheel and climbed up to straddle into the rear seat, carrying his rifle with him--to the manifest discomfort of Bland, who was "gun-shy." "Fly a kinda zigzag course east till I tell yuh to swing south," Johnny called, close to Bland's ear.

"Miss Selmer's off that way somewhere.

If you see her, don't fly low enough to scare her horse--keep away a little and hunt a landing.

I'll tell yuh when to land, same as before." He settled back, and Bland nodded, glanced right and left, eased the motor on and started.

They took the air and climbed steadily, circling until they had the altitude Johnny wanted.