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conferred on flight plans, fueling, and schedules while stowing the new batch of mail and parcels they’d picked up. Henry had the distinct impression that Dingo was trying to avoid him, which was a new one on him, but it left him feeling lonely and like a bit of an interloper.
    Dean and Dingo disappeared into the cockpit, leaving Henry to make a nest for himself amongst the mailbags in the back. He’d found it was the most comfortable way of traveling, as there were no seats in the body of the plane,
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    nor were there windows, so he couldn’t pass the time by looking out unless he wanted to hold his body in a crouching position and peer past the two pilots’
    shoulders.
    It robbed him of the wonder of actually flying to be shut away from the action in the dark. The feeling of movement and the noise battered his senses into a somnolent state, from which he would periodically jerk awake if he heard a sound or the plane lost altitude in one of those sickening drops. Dingo had explained that it happened sometimes, but that it didn’t follow that they were going to fall out of the air.
    “If the engines cut out, that’s when it’s time to worry, although worry will buy you nothing,” Dingo had said with a laugh. “Donning a parachute makes more sense, but don’t bother unless I tell you.”
    Henry had wanted to ask, “What if you’re incapacitated? Do I use my best judgment or go down with the airplane?” But he hadn’t wanted to appear pansy to Dingo. Not pansy, precisely, but Dingo seemed to have no fear, laughing gleefully whenever the plane did take a dip.
    After Prachaub, quick stops in Singapore, Batavia, Bima, and Koepang put them within reach of Australia. Darwin was Henry’s first taste of Australia, and the hour that they spent there was disappointing and one that he hoped wouldn’t be representative of the entire trip. A desert airfield in the middle of nothing made him realize how big and empty this newfound land was and why the British still sneeringly referred to it as “the Colonies.” The next few stops assuaged his fears, as they proved that Australia truly was a land of many temperate zones and landscapes. Finally they landed in Melbourne, where Henry climbed stiffly from the plane, clutching his duffle bag while he shook hands with Dean, the pilot, thanking him for the lift.
    “No worries!” Dean said. He turned to Dingo, and the two men shook hands before giving each other a rough hug, clapping each other’s back.
    “Tooroo, Dingo! Any time you want to fly with me, give me the word. Can always use a co.”
    “On your bike, then,” Dingo said with a big smile. “Who knows, we may need to give old Dash a lift back to England.”
    “When will that be then?” Dean asked.
    “Yes, Mr. Chambers. What is your schedule?”
    Henry turned to gaze at the owner of the new voice, surprised at how he took an instant dislike to the man it oozed from.
    He had black hair, smoothed back sleekly from his forehead, shiny with oil, small blue eyes, a long nose, and a disagreeable pursed look to his mouth,
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    even though he was smiling. He ignored Henry, boring into Dingo with his beady eyes.
    “Clarence, you shouldn’t have!” Dingo said with an insolent grin. “You met the aeroplane to welcome me back to my homeland. And here I could have sworn you didn’t like me!”
    Dean clapped his hand on Dingo’s shoulder. “Dingo did me a favor, Mr. Hodges. I lost my co-pilot in England, and he crewed for me on the way back.”
    “I didn’t come to the airport to meet you , ” Hodges said icily. “I happen to be here on government business and caught sight of you, and—”
    “And you couldn’t wait to say hello! I’m touched, I tell you, touched.”
    Dingo grabbed Hodges’s hand in a crushing grip and pumped vigorously.
    Henry tried to hide the smirk that curved his lips when Hodges darted an angry glance at