What was to happen when they finally landed, Roberta could not even guess, but she determined to be on the alert. She judged they had maintained a high altitude, and this fact was promptly verified as she watched Mrs. Pollzoff attend to the plane. Soon she took time to slide the cover from over the cock-pit and all that could be seen was a thick fog which enveloped them. The woman scanned the earth beneath her and as she did that Roberta managed to catch a glimpse of the fuel indicator, the needle of which showed that they could go very little further.

The fact promptly banished a sudden idea of pushing the woman out and racing back150 into the heavens, for such a scheme would be foolhardy, inasmuch as Nike could carry her only a short distance. Her second plan depended greatly upon what happened when the plane’s wheels touched the ground, if they did, but Roberta made ready to snatch any opportunity which offered itself. She hated to abandon the machine; that would have to be her last resort, for she realized that the woman wasn’t coming down any place where she did not expect to find friends and accommodations. Carefully drawing up her right hand, she found the latch to the door at her side, and at the same time got loose her safety strap so that it could not hold her back. The chute would also hamper any quick movement, but before she could manage to rid herself of the awkward bulky thing, Nike touched ground.

A few feet away was a huge fire, which looked as if it had been built as a beacon for the woman, but even its blaze was veiled by the swirling fog which surrounded it. As the plane curved, its wheels bumped first one side, then the other; once they struck something so large that they jumped, so Mrs. Pollzoff151 was fully occupied in bringing the machine to a stop. Blurred figures of men moved between them and the fire, and at last when Nike stopped, they came forward. There was a confused murmur of voices.

“Hurry and help me,” Mrs. Pollzoff snapped, but her voice cracked shrilly.

“We’re here—”

“Been waitin’ fer hours,” snapped one who seemed in charge of the party. “Keeping this fire going. What kept you?”

“Think I could do any better through that storm—”

“Aw, that’s it, eh? Flew yourself. The boss said you’d probably try that fool trick.”

“What was the matter with the girl doing it—she’d have—”

“Shut your fool mouth. Get her out and be quick about it, you think she’s so wonderful—” Mrs. Pollzoff swore roundly.

“She’d have done it quicker. It’s only fool’s luck that you didn’t have a smash-up.”

“Get her out—” Mrs. Pollzoff stamped her feet furiously.

“Did you kill her?” One of the men came152 close to the woman, and his tone was threatening. “You’ll get yours from the boss if she’s hurt; he needs her in this business and you had your orders.”

“I tell you she’s all right, only asleep. Get her out. We’re both nearly dead.”

But Roberta didn’t wait to hear anything more. She threw her weight against the door, jumped out under the shelter of Nike’s wing, and leaped into the dense fog. Instantly three men who had been coming around the plane, sprang toward her. There followed a wild scramble of feet as the girl ran desperately from the scene, but the chute interfered, although she tried hard to get out of it as she fled.

“Bring up some of those torches,” one of the men bellowed. “She can’t get far.”

Immediately a dozen firebrands were being brandished through the fog, in a moment her footprints were discovered and panting men rushed in pursuit. The rough ground, the unwieldy chute, and her own weariness were almost too much for the fleeing girl, but she pushed on as fast as she could, hoping to find some place into which she could dodge,153 and trying to plant her feet on rocks which would leave no tell-tale trail. It was amazing that she managed to keep going so long, but suddenly the leader of the men caught sight of her.

“You ain’t going to be hurt, Miss, and you’re headin’ out to sea,” he called, and although his voice was rough, there was nothing in it to fear. Just at that moment a wave splashed over Roberta’s ankles, verifying the last part of his statement; but a wave of discouragement even larger and more formidable than the water piled over her, completely dispelling every hope of escape.

“Oh, please,” she cried—but that was all she could say, for her head seemed ready to burst open with pain, sharp daggers stung her eyes, and just as the man reached her, her body grew limp.

“That wild cat gave you a hard time,” he remarked as he picked her up in his arms, but what he said or did was lost to the girl, for she had fainted dead away. It was lucky he was there, because she would have slumped into the water, been tossed helplessly on the in-coming tide, and no one could have154 saved her from being crushed among the rocks.

Being a healthy girl the state of unconsciousness did not last long and a bit later she opened her eyes again. A dark woman, who looked like an Indian had her in charge; while one of the men stood ready with a flask, some of the contents of which was still stinging her throat. Her flying suit had been opened and she was stretched out on a rough bed of boughs, and another Indian, a younger one, unfastened her shoes. It wasn’t a comforting sight, but it was evident that every one of them was bent on bringing her to and making her as comfortable as possible.

“Here, that’s the girl! Take a bit more of this and it will knock the kinks out of you,” the man urged. He was the man who had picked her up, and there was a smoldering light in his eyes as if, regardless of what the situation might really be, his sympathies were with Roberta.

“I’m lots better,” she managed to gasp. “Thank you so much.”

“Sure, but you’ll be better still. Come along, this won’t hurt you, and you surely do155 need it. The natives will do the little things to help you.” He went over with the flask and Roberta obeyed without further protest. Her good sense told her that she must do everything possible to regain her strength if she expected to get away from the place. She wanted to ask where she was, but decided it might be better to wait until she was more sure of herself and those around her.

“I ain’t never been in favor of this kidnaping business, Wat,” said one of the men who was standing by. “It always sets the crowd against you.”

“Well, keep your shirt on, Slim,” Wat answered under his breath. “Better yell fer some of that soup,” he added.

“Come along with the soup,” Slim shouted.

“Think I’m at the Pole.” A third man appeared with a tin of steaming soup, which the woman took from him.

“That’s good. Let Nomie feed you a little at a time, and if they don’t treat you right, yell for Wat and I’ll come running.” He grinned down at her, then spoke to Nomie,156 who nodded that she understood, but Roberta didn’t catch the words.

“Good,” said Nomie, as she sniffed the contents of the bowl. Then she took a crust of hard bread, dipped it into the liquid. “Too hot,” she told Roberta. “Eat little from crust.”

It was an odd way of taking nourishment, but Roberta was glad that she wasn’t required to sit up and eat, for although the brandy she had swallowed was tingling warmly, she was woefully tired and making any sort of physical effort seemed impossible. The “soup” tasted of clams and milk, and she thought she had never eaten anything better. Conscientiously Nomie fed her, a little at a time, until finally it was cooler and she used a spoon instead of the bread, but she did not hasten the performance. The men had withdrawn tactfully to the other side of the huge bon-fire which was being raked into a smaller space as it was no longer needed as a beacon. Roberta wondered dully how it had helped Mrs. Pollzoff to know where to come down, but just then she saw Slim passing with a bundle of rockets and157 understood that the gang must have been shooting them intermittently while they waited, and more frequently when they heard the plane roaring toward them out of the fog.

“More bye and bye,” Nomie said at last, and she handed the dish to the young girl. “Fix bed, Natell,” she added. The Indian girl hurried away, and presently Wat returned.

“Feel able to walk?” he asked gruffly.

“Guess so,” Roberta answered. She managed to get to her feet, and although she felt better, she was still wobbly.

“Give her a hand ............