THREE MORNINGS LATER VICKI, CATHY, AND Johnny Baker strolled across the concrete apron in front of Gate Five at Idlewild to board the ship for their return run to Tampa. Today the skies were clear, but the wind blowing across the huge airfield carried the crisp, cold bite of winter, and small snowdrifts were still piled up against the heavy wire fencing that enclosed the passenger area.
“Where’s Captain March?” Vicki asked Johnny. “He’s late this morning, and that’s not like him.”
“Captain’s already on board,” the copilot said. “He boarded her in the hangar.”
“What’s the matter?” Cathy laughed. “Doesn’t he trust the ground crew to see that she’s ready to fly?”
“Don’t ask me,” Johnny replied, grinning good-naturedly, “I’m just the copilot. I take over the controls when the captain tells
