Once more across the Atlantic with Lucky Lindy, pictured here as a farm kid wishing for wings, then fired by his first sight of an airplane, and later earning the name Daredevil Lindbergh for his barnstorming stunts. Flying mail, itself a dangerous activity at that time, was Slim's next job--and he earned another nickname, the Flying Fool, when he gave that up to compete for the New York-to-Paris $25,000. On the flight, Gross takes Lindbergh through drowsy sunlight, a thunderstorm, and ice, and she puts in such down-to-earth particulars as his cutting holes in his maps and charts to lighten the load. (""A few more facts"" concerning the make of his planes, his rivals' fates, etc., are simply appended in a double-page list, followed by ""some important dates"" in Lindbergh's life.) The story's been told more excitingly and more incisively; Gross, who sums up the trip as a ""dangerous adventure"" and ""something that no one had ever done before,"" simply gears it down for readers not quite ready for Fisk (1968), Foster (1974), or Dalgliesh's edition of the Lone Flyer's log.