She waited as long as she dared, meaning to give Johnny some much-needed advice and a warning or two.  She planned exactly what she would say, and how she would for once avoid quarreling with him.  It would be a good plan, she thought, to appeal to his conscience—­if he had one, which she rather doubted.  She would point out to him, in a kind, firm tone, that his first duty, indeed, his only duty, lay in serving the Rolling R faithfully.  Trying to build flying machines on the sly was not serving the Rolling R, and Johnny could not fail to see it once she pointed it out to him.

But Johnny was far afield, appeasing his conscience by riding the range and locating the horse herds.  He did not return to camp at noon, for he found it physically impossible to ride past the rock wall without turning into the niche to see what Bland Halliday was doing, and to make sure that the airplane was a reality and not one of his dreams.

Bland was down under the corner of the damaged wing, swearing to himself and tacking linen to mend the jagged hole broken through the covering by the skid.  He ducked his head and peered out at Johnny morosely.

“Get down here and I’ll show yuh how to do this, so I can go at that tail.  I just wanted to get it started, so I could turn it over to you—­in case you ever showed up again!”

“I haven’t time now to help,” Johnny demurred.  “I’ve got a big strip of country to ride, this afternoon.  The horses are scattered—­”

“Say, listen here, bo.  You’ve got a big strip of linen to tack this afternoon, and don’t overlook that fact.  Fast as we can, I want to get it on so the dope can be hardening.  I’ve figured out how we can save time, so if the motor’s all right, we can maybe get outa this damn country in ten days.  If you don’t lay down on the job, that is, and make me do it all.”  He crawled out and got stiffly to his feet, rubbing a cramped elbow and eying Johnny sourly.

“Can’t help it, Bland; I’ve got other work to-day.  Boss’ll fire me if I don’t make—­”

“For cat’s sake, what do I care about the boss?  You’re going to quit anyway, ain’t you, soon as we’re ready to fly?”

“We-ell, yes, of course.  But I’d have to give him time to get some one in my place.  They’re working short-handed as it is.  I couldn’t just—­”

“You’re laying down on me; that’s what you’re doing.  Look how I’ve sweat all forenoon on that darned wing!  Got the frame fixed, all ready for the linen to go back on; I’ve worked to-day, if anybody should ask you!  Oughta have that glue, but I’m making out with what little old Abe sent.  And you ain’t lifted a hand.  It ain’t right.  I can’t do it all, and you ride around once in awhile to stall me off with how busy you are.  You better can that stuff, and take a hand here.”

“Well, don’t cry about it.  I’ll tack that linen on, if that’s all that’s worrying you.  But I can’t stay long; I’ve spent too much time already away from my work.  I oughta been riding yesterday, by rights.”