“Till we hit the ground,” drawled Johnny, who was enjoying his position of captain of this cruise.  He had been taking orders from Cliff for about forty-eight hours now without respite save when he slept, and even his sleep had been ordered by Cliff.

“I could make that twelve miles or so from here, though.  Why?”

“In the twelve miles you would not be using gas—­could you glide to the ridge, circle and fly high again, and back to Mateo’s camp without stopping for gas?”

Johnny gave a grunt of surprise.  “I guess I could,” he said.  “Why?”

“Then do it.  Just that.  On this side of the notch you will see—­when you are close enough—­a few adobe buildings.  I want to pass over those buildings at a height of, say, five hundred feet; or a little lower will be better, if you can make it.  Then circle and come back again.  And try and make the return trip as high as you did coming down, until you are well past those mountains we passed over, just inside the line.  Then come down at camp as inconspicuously as possible.  I may add that as we pass over the buildings I mentioned, please start your motor.  I am not expected at just this time, and I wish to attract attention.”

“Hunh!” grunted Johnny.  “You’d sure attract attention if I didn’t—­because how the deuce would you expect me to climb back from five hundred feet to eight thousand or so, without starting the motor?”

Cliff did not answer.  He was busy with something which he had brought with him; a square package to which Johnny had paid very little attention, thinking it some article which Cliff wanted to have in camp.

Evidently this was not to be a news-gathering trip, though Johnny could not see why not, now they were over here.  Why just sail over a few houses and fly home?  He could see the houses now, huddled against the ridge.  A ranch, he guessed it, since half the huddle appeared to be sheds and corrals.  A queer place to gather news of international importance, thought Johnny, as he volplaned down toward the spot.  He threw in the motor and was buzzing over the buildings when Cliff unstrapped himself, half rose in his seat and lifted something in his arms.

“Steady,” he cried.  “I want to drop this over.”  Whereupon he heaved it backward so that it would fall clear of the wing, and peered after it through his goggles for a minute.  “You can go home now,” he shouted to Johnny, and settled down in his seat with the air of a man who has done his duty and has nothing more on his mind.

Mystified, Johnny spiraled upward until he had his altitude, and started back for the United States.  Clouds favored him when he crossed the boundary, hiding him altogether from the earth.  Indeed, they caused him to lose himself for a minute, so that when he dropped down below the strata of vapor he was already nearly over the double-pointed hill that was his landmark.  But Cliff did not notice, and a little judicious manoeuvering brought him into the little valley and headed straight for the oak, easily identified because Mateo was standing directly in front of it waving a large white cloth.