They were well trained--shamefully well trained in the game of
cheating.
Johnny looked at them glumly, with an aversion born of their uncanny
obedience, their unchildlike shrewdness. Fine conspirators they would
make later on, when they grew a few years older and more cunning!
"Head her into the wind so I can take the air right away quick," he
ordered Cliff, and helped swing the Thunder Bird round.
Dusk was settling upon the very heels of a sunset that had no clouds to
glorify and therefore dulled and darkened quickly into night, as is the
way of sunsets in the southern rim of States.
Already the shadows were deep against the hill, and in the deepest
stood the Thunder Bird, slim, delicately sturdy, every wire taut, every
bit of aluminum in her motor clean and shining, a gracefully potent
creature of the air. Across her back her name was lettered crudely,
blatantly, with the blobbed period where Johnny had his first mental
shock of Sudden's changed attitude toward him.
While he pulled on his leather helmet and tied the flaps under his
chin, and buttoned his leather coat and pulled on his gloves, Johnny
stood off and eyed the Thunder Bird with wistful affection.
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