wife. "I know the newspapers call me that, and compare me with the witch on a broomstick; but in truth I am as calculating and cold as any aviator in America. Everything I do is figured out with mathematical precision and I never take a single chance that I can foresee. I know the air currents, and all their whims and peculiarities, and how to counteract them. What may seem to the spectators to be daring, and even desperate, is often the safest mode of flying, provided you understand your machine and the conditions of the air. To volplane from a height of five or ten thousand feet, for example, is safer than from a slight elevation, for the further you drop the better air-cushion is formed under your planes, and you ride as gently as when suspended from a parachute."
Madeline was listening eagerly.
"Are you afraid?" she asked.
"Afraid? Why should I be, with my brother's wonderful engine at my back and perfect control of every part of my machine?"
"Suppose the engine should some time fail you?"
"Then I would volplane to the ground."
"And if the planes, or braces, or fastenings break?"
"No fear of that. The Kane Aircraft is strong enough for any aërial purpose and I examine every brace and strut before I start my fight – merely to satisfy myself they have not been maliciously tampered with."
Then Madeline sprung her important question:
"Do you ever take a passenger?"
Orissa regarded Miss Dentry with a whimsical smile.
"Sometimes," she said. "Do you imagine you would like to fly?"
"No – no, indeed!" cried Mr. Tupper in a horrified voice, and Mrs. Tupper echoed; "How absurd!" But Madeline answered quietly:
"If you could manage to take me I am sure I would enjoy the experience."
"I will consider it and let you know later," said the Flying Girl, thoughtfully. "My chum, Sybil Cumberford, has made several short flights with me; but Sybil's head is perfectly balanced and no altitude affects it. Often those who believe they would enjoy flying become terrified once they are in the air."
"Nothing could terrify Madeline, I am sure," asserted Mrs. Tupper, in a rasping voice; "but she is too important a personage to risk her life foolishly. I shall insist that she at once abandon the preposterous idea. Abandon it, Madeline! I thought your new yacht a venturesome thing to indulge in, but flying is far, far worse."
"Oh; have you a yacht?" inquired Orissa, turning eagerly to the other girl.
"Yes; the Salvador. It is now lying in San Diego harbor. I've not seen my new craft as yet, but intend it shall take us to Honolulu and perhaps to Japan."
"How delightful," cried Orissa, with enthusiasm.
"Would you like to join our party?"
"Oh, thank you; I couldn't," quite regretfully; "I am too busy just now advancing the fortunes of my brother Stephen, who is really the most clever inventor of aëroplanes in the world. Don't smile, please; he is, indeed! The world may not admit it as yet, but it soon will. Have you heard of his latest contrivance? It is a Hydro-Aircraft, and its engines propel it equally as well on water as on land."
"Then it beats my yacht," said Madeline, smiling.
"It is more adaptable – more versatile – to be sure," said Orissa. "Stephen has just completed his first Hydro-Aircraft, and while I am in San Diego I shall test it and make a long trip over the Pacific Ocean to exploit its powers. Such a machine would not take the place of a yacht, you know, and the motor boat attachment is merely a safety device to allow one to fly over water as well as over land. Then, if you are obliged to descend, your aircraft becomes a motor boat and the engines propel it to the shore."
"Does your brother use the Gnome engines?" inquired Mr. Tupper.
"No; Stephen makes his own engines, which I think are better than any others," answered Miss Kane.
By the time the train drew into the station at San Diego, Madeline Dentry and her companions, the Tuppers, knew considerably more of aëroplanes than the average layman, for Orissa Kane enjoyed explaining the various machines and, young and unassuming as she appeared, understood every minute detail of their manufacture. She had been her brother's assistant and companion from the time of his first experiments and intelligently followed the creation and development of the now famous Kane Aircraft.
At the depot a large crowd was in waiting, not gathered to meet the great heiress, Madeline Dentry, but the quiet slip of a girl whose name was on every tongue and whose marvelous skill as a bird-maid had aroused the admiration of every person interested in aërial sports. On the billboards were glaring posters of "The Flying Girl," the chief attraction of the coming aviation meet, and the news of her expected arrival had drawn many curious inhabitants of the Sunshine City to the depot, as well as the friends congregated to greet her.
First of all a tall, fine looking fellow, who limped slightly, sprang forward to meet Orissa at the car steps and gave her a kiss and a hug. This was Stephen Kane, the airship inventor, and close behind him stood a grizzled gentleman in a long gray coat and jaunty Scotch cap. It was Mr. Cumberford, the "angel" and manager of the youthful Kanes, the man whose vast wealth had financed the Kane Aircraft and enabled the boy and girl to carry out their ambitious plans. This strange man had neither ambition to acquire more money nor to secure fame by undertaking to pilot the Aircraft to success; as he stood here, his bored expression, in sharp contrast to the shrewd gray eyes that twinkled behind his spectacles, clearly indicated this fact; but a little kindness had won him to befriend the young people and he had rendered them staunch support.
On Mr. Cumberford's arm was a slender girl dressed all in black, the nodding sable plumes of whose broad hat nearly hid Orissa from view as the two girls exchanged a kiss. Sybil Cumberford had no claim to beauty except for her dark eyes – so fathomless and mysterious that they awed all but her most intimate friends, and puzzled even them.
And now an awkward young fellow – six feet three and built like an athlete – slouched bashfully forward and gripped Orissa Kane's outstretched hand. Here was the press agent of the Kane-Cumberford alliance, Mr. H. Chesterton Radley-Todd; a most astonishing youth who impressed strangers as being a dummy and his friends as the possessor of a rarely keen intellect. Orissa smiled at him; there was something humorous about Radley-Todd's loose-jointed, unwieldy personality. Then she took her brother's arm and passed through the eager, admiring throng to the automobile in waiting.
Beside Mr. Cumberford's car stood a handsome equipage that had been sent for Miss Dentry's party, and as Orissa nodded to her recent acquaintances Sybil Cumberford inquired:
"Who is that girl?"
"A Miss Dentry, of New York, with whom I exchanged some remarks on the train. She has a yacht in the bay here."
"Oh, yes; I've heard all about her," returned Sybil, indifferently. "She's dreadfully rich; rather snubbed New York society, which was eager to idolize her – says she's too young for the weary, heart-breaking grind – and indulges in such remarkable fancies that she's getting herself talked about. I hope you didn't encourage her advances, Orissa?"
"I fear I did," was the laughing reply; "but she seemed very nice and agreeable – for a rich girl. Tell me, Steve," she added, turning to her brother, "what news of the Hydro-Aircraft?"
"It's great, Orissa! I put the finishing touches on it night before last, and yesterday Mr. Cumberford and I took a trial spin in it. It carries two beautifully,"
