But in her excitement, she had not realized how wide the Gulf of California was at this southern part. Two hundred miles, at least, if she kept her course straight. She had covered only a little more than half of this, when she saw to her horror that her main tank was exhausted. Twelve gallons of gas in the emergency supply, and almost a hundred miles to go!
What a fool she had been, not to put an extra tank into the cockpit! To think that after all her experience, she should be endangering three lives by her carelessness! To be forced down in the water! To meet death in a way she had not thought of, since her flight across the Atlantic Ocean!
She slowed down her speed and gazed all about her at the limitless expanse of water beneath them. No land in sight—not even a boat to which she could signal. Parachute jumping would be of no use, and she did not carry life-preservers.
She glanced again at the indicator; conserving gas as well as she could, it was nevertheless rapidly disappearing. Ten minutes more, perhaps—and then a watery grave! She grew panicky, more for her companions than for herself. She would have to tell them of their fate.
Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she called into the speaking-tube:
“We’re out of gas. We have to come down. Be prepared to jump clear of the ship!”
Chase and Dot looked at each other in incredulity. The young man thought Linda was joking, but the girl knew that it was not her chum’s habit to make ghastly jokes. If Linda said danger, she meant it. Desperately Dot reached for the glasses and peered anxiously about them in all directions.
Linda, her lips tight and her heart tense, continued to guide the plane and to watch the indicator. Five minutes more, perhaps—and then—what? The hungry waves, tossing beneath her, seemed to make their greedy answer.
A sudden hysterical cry from Dot sounded above the roar of the motor.
“Land!” she shouted, wildly. “Bank to the right!” And then, fearing that Linda had not heard her, she repeated her message through the speaking-tube.
Although Linda could still see nothing with her naked eye, she did as she was told, thankful that she was high enough in the air to gain considerable distance by gliding. Two minutes passed; the gas ran dry, but now the island was in sight. By careful manipulation, Linda thought she could make it.
With a series of side-slips, she gradually made her approach, coming nearer and nearer to the land as she descended, until she was actually over it. Then, with a dead-stick landing, so much easier with an autogiro than with an ordinary plane, she slowly came down on the sandy soil of the beach!
“Oh, thank Heaven!” cried Dot, in an ecstasy of relief. “A miracle, if there ever was one.”
Chase said nothing for a moment; he was speechless with admiration.
“Pretty tight squeeze,” admitted Linda, as she wiped the perspiration from her face. “If it hadn’t been for you, Dot, I’d never have seen it.”
Still trembling from their experience, the girls climbed out of the cockpits with Chase’s assistance. At last the young man found words to express his admiration to Linda. But she was too ashamed of her lack of foresight to accept any praise. She was still terribly vexed with herself.
“Now we’ll have to explore,” announced Dot. “Do you suppose anybody lives on this island?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Chase. “Or they’d have been here to see us by this time. It looks pretty barren and forsaken to me.”
“No trees! No shade at all!” added Dot.
Nothing, indeed, but a dry underbrush, and the sort of weeds that grow in sandy soil. The little group walked all around the island, and found it to be very small. Probably it was not even shown on most maps, though Linda did recall seeing some dots in the southern part of the Gulf. And of course nobody lived there.
Dismally they came back to the beach where the Ladybug was resting.
“Is there any food left at all?” asked Chase, trying not to appear too eager.
“Not a crumb,” replied Dot. “Though we do still have about a gallon of water.”
“The first thing to do,” he said, “is to climb up on the plane and hoist a signal of distress. So we’ll catch a ship, if one goes past. If you’ll get me something to put....”
He glanced shyly at the girls. As they were both in khaki flying-suits, there was no chance of using a white skirt or petticoat, as he had so often read of, in books about ship-wreck. But Linda immediately procured a large square of canvas which she kept on hand for repair, and he did the climbing at once.
When he came down again, he produced the fishing-line which he had improvised that morning and set about to try to catch a fish. Linda spent her time inspecting the plane, and Dot went about gathering underbrush for a fire, in case Chase was lucky enough to secure a catch.
Each of the three had taken a deep drink of water, resolutely trying to stave off their hunger by that means.
An hour passed, and another, without any sign of a boat, and the girls began to wonder whether they would have to spend the night on this tiny island, without any food. They were sitting back on the beach, near to the autogiro, talking a little, and searching the waters often with the glasses for the sight of a ship. The sun was already low against the horizon.
“I wonder how far we are from the peninsula,” remarked Dot. “Maybe we could swim.”
“Not on an empty stomach,” returned Linda. “Besides, we must be pretty far. According to my figures.... Oh, look, Dot!” She jumped gaily to her feet.
“What! A boat?” cried her companion.
“No. Only Bert—with a fish! But it surely does look good.”
“Light your fire, Dot!” the young man called as he approached. “The fish is cleaned—all ready to fry.”
“You’re an ace!” returned the girl, looking admiringly at the young man in his flier’s suit, and his rumpled hair and cheery smile. How different he looked from the first time the girls had seen him—as a stern detective in Von Goss’s office. It didn’t seem possible that they had known him only a few days.
She lighted the fire, and half an hour later they ate their scanty supper. If anyone had ever told them that fish without any bread, or even salt, would taste good, they would not have believed it. But now they found it extremely satisfying.
“I’m going right back again,” said Chase, when they had finished eating. “If I have to fish all night, I’m determined to get something for your breakfast!”
“You—won’t—have—to,” announced Linda, slowly, handing her glasses to Dot. “I’m sure I see a boat!”
The three young fliers stood on the beach, waiting for the approaching boat in excited suspense. She was nearer now; there was no doubt that she was answering their signal.
It was a large, flat steamboat with wide decks, which were packed with passengers who were peering at the lonely little island, and waving cheerily at the three survivors. It approached rapidly; when it was within calling distance of the island it stopped and let down a life-boat, which two men rowed to the shore.
“Shall we all get aboard?” inquired Dot, turning to Linda.
“I think I’d rather not,” replied Linda. “If they can supply us with some food, I think I’d better stay here. You see, I don’t like to leave the Ladybug alone.”
“What do you suggest, Linda?” asked Chase, as if he, too, considered her the guide in this situation.
“That you go to the mainland, Bert—or to the peninsula, whichever the boat happens to be headed for—and bring me back some gas.”
“You mean leave you two girls here alone?” he asked. “It’ll mean all night—before I can get back.”
“Yes. Why not? We’ll be safe, unless a shark comes to shore and bites us. But for goodness’ sake, don’t forget us!”
“I’ll never forget you,” replied the young man solemnly.
The life-boat had reached the island by this time, and two men jumped out and leaped to shore.
“This is wonderful of you!” cried Dot. “We certainly are grateful.”
“Glad to do it,” replied one of the men, a big, brawny sailor. “But do tell me what that thing is.” He pointed to the autogiro. “It looks like a plane, but I never seen a plane like that before.”
“It’s an autogiro,” explained Chase. “And we ran out of gas—almost dropped down in the Gulf.... So, if you can take me to shore, I’d like to get some and bring it back here.”
“Sure,” replied the man. “But what about the ladies?”
“We’ve decided to stay here,” replied Dot. “At least, if you can supply us with some food to keep us till tomorrow morning. We’re nearly starved.”
“Sure,” repeated the man, “anything you say!”
Chase and the two sailors climbed into the rowboat and pushed off immediately. Inside of ten minutes they returned, bringing a box of food with them, and a tank of ice-water.
“How much do we owe you?” inquired Linda, taking a bill from her pocket.
“Nothin’!” answered the man. “The Captain says it’s a present, with his compliments.”
“I think that’s awfully good of him,” said Dot, lifting the lid of the box and peering hungrily inside. “And it looks like real American food, too. Biscuits—and ham—and eggs!”
“Mexican chickens lay the same kind of eggs that American chickens do,” observed Chase, dryly.
“That’ll be enough out of you!” retorted Dot, trying to look scornful, but laughing in spite of herself.
“Be sure to get something to eat for yourself, right away, Bert,” put in Linda.
“We’ll take care of that,” the sailor assured her, as the men returned to the boat.
“And come back soon!” added Dot.
The rowboat went back to the steamer, and the girls remained on the beach watching it, all the while waving and smiling to their rescuers. At last the steamboat pulled off, and disappeared from view; then they returned to their fire and built it up again.
“This is going to be a meal worth eating!” exclaimed Dot, as she unpacked biscuits and butter, ham, eggs, and coffee. “Even oranges and bananas!” she added, hardly able to wait until they should begin to eat.
They sat about their fire talking until long after darkness came on, and the stars appeared in the sky. Both girls felt happy now—only anxious to be after their enemy again.
“I’m so sorry for the delay,” remarked Linda. “More on Mr. Eckert’s account than my own. If I could only get his plane back, I shouldn’t worry so much about that forged check for five thousand dollars.”
“It’s the idea of what that girl got away with that exasperates me,” said Dot. “Making all that money on your name. It’s maddening.”
“But she’s sure to be caught sometime, by the police. And then she’ll have to pay up.”
“Yes, but I want her caught soon—and by us, if possible.”
“Well, tomorrow’s a new day,” said Linda hopefully. “And you never can tell what will happen. Now—let’s get some sleep.”
So, wrapping up in their blankets, they lay down in the sand, far inland, lest the tide should rise, and slept until the sun awakened them. A delightfully cool breeze was blowing from the ocean, reminding the girls of pleasant days at the seashore.
“Only it reminds me more of that island off the coast of Georgia,” returned Dot, when Linda made this observation.
“It does look something like it. But oh, such different circumstances now. We’re not Robinson Crusoes here. We’ve got everything we want—food, and the Ladybug, and Bert Chase to rescue us.”
“Speaking of Bert,” put in Dot, “let’s get a good swim before he gets back.”
They acted upon the suggestion immediately, and enjoyed their dip immensely. What a thrill it gave them to bathe for the first time in the Gulf of California! Almost like going into the Pacific Ocean. But they did not venture out far, or stay long in the water. They wanted to be all ready for Chase when he returned, so that they could be on their pursuit again as quickly as possible.
“I like your boy-friend, Linda,” said Dot, taking up the conversation where they had left it when they went in to bathe. “But it’s nice to have him out of the way for a while.”
“I don’t see why you call himmyboy-friend,” returned the other girl. “He’s just as much yours.”
“He is not! Haven’t you noticed how he’s always watching you? As if he couldn’t take his eyes from you. Pure devotion, I’d call it.”
Linda laughed and began to run a comb through her wet hair, arranging the ringlets in place. She had a lovely natural wave—a gift which saved her a great deal of time at hairdressers’. No matter where she was, or how she was dressed, she always looked pretty.
“I think you’re exaggerating, Dot. He’s never said anything to make me think he especially likes me.”
“All the more credit to him! But just the same, I’ll bet Ralph Clavering wouldn’t feel any too easy about him.”
Suddenly Linda sighed.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Dot. “That wasn’t a sigh of hunger!”
“No, it wasn’t. The mention of Ralph made me feel just a little bit homesick. Not for him especially—but for the whole crowd, and for Aunt Emily and Daddy. We’ve only been gone about ten days, but it seems ages and ages!”
“Because so much has happened.”
“Yes, and because we have been in such strange places. And the days have been long too.”
“What do you suppose everybody is doing by now?” inquired Dot.
“Most of them are at college, I suppose. Sue Emery and Sara Wheeler are rooming together. And Jim and Ralph both must have gone back. I don’t know about Harriman Smith. The last letter I had from him, he said he wasn’t sure whether he’d have enough money.”
“He’s a nice boy,” was Dot’s comment.
“One of the best,” replied Linda, with unusual enthusiasm for her. “But Dot,” she continued, as they began to make their fire for breakfast, “don’t you regret not going to college?”
“No, not a bit. I get lots more thrills batting about the country on adventures with you. If I were at college, and learned that you were suddenly off to California—or to the North Pole, I’d be absolutely sick with jealousy. I’d probably drop everything and go. And then, of course, college would drop me.”
“You’re an old peach, Dot!” exclaimed Linda, giving her chum a hug. “But some day I ’spose I’ll have to lose you, as I did Lou. Jim’ll decide that he just won’t wait any longer, and you’ll be going up the aisle to the tune of Lohengrin!”
Dot dimpled, but shook her head.
“You needn’t worry about that, Linda,” she said. “But if the time ever comes, I’ll tell you what you can do: Get married yourself! And then you’ll have a chum who won’t ever desert you!”
“I’m not so sure about that—these days.... Now, shall we have our breakfast?”
“I’m all for it,” agreed Dot, sitting down to the pleasant meal they had just cooked.
The boat bringing Chase with the gasoline did not arrive until eleven o’clock. It took some little time to get the tanks of gasoline into shore, for the men dared load only one at a time on the rowboat. And Chase had brought three.
“Greetings!” he called to the girls, as the small boat approached. “You’re still alive? Nothing happened during the night?”
Dot laughed merrily.
“You sound like Linda’s aunt, Bert. She always expects the worst.”
“Well, I didn’t really think there was anything much you girls couldn’t conquer. Only something like a big tide, that would sweep the whole island away.”
He filled the empty tanks of the autogiro, and put the other two cans into the passenger’s cockpit. As soon as the rowboat pulled off, the young man turned excitedly to the girls.
“I’ve got hot news!” he announced. “A yellow biplane was sighted yesterday, flying with all possible speed towards the Pacific Ocean. I got that from Los Angeles headquarters last night.”
Linda’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“We’ll be right after them,” she said. “Oh, if we’re only not too late!”
“It’s a peach of a day,” commented Dot. “If it is hot.”
“Heat doesn’t bother me,” returned Linda, climbing into the cockpit, and setting the rotors in motion. “Get in—if you’re coming with me!”
Linda gave her the gun, and the Ladybug left the beach a minute or so later, soaring triumphantly into the skies.
“We’re going to fly high, now!” shouted Linda. “And we’re going to make speed!”
The outlines of the island faded and disappeared from their sight; even the water was lost to their view. The Ladybug flew as if she were on a test flight, to prove her ability to take part in any kind of service. Mile after mile disappeared as Linda watched her instruments and her map closely, for now she could figure just about how far she had to go to reach the coast of the peninsula. All the while Dot scanned the air with the glasses, looking for a flash of yellow in the sky.
“We are over an airport town now,” Linda announced about one o’clock. “Shall we come down for lunch?”
“No! No!” returned her companions. “We’ll dig out something from the box, and eat as we go. On to the coast!”
They continued onward for an hour or so, landing once to refuel from an extra tank of gas. Now Linda dipped lower, anxious to watch the landscape, for she knew that she must be very near to the Pacific Ocean. She identified the roofs of a village—a little seaport town, probably—and yes—there was the ocean beyond!
“I’d go south for a while, Linda!” Chase advised. “The report was that the Sky Rocket was headed southwest.”
So Linda banked and directed her course along the coast to the southward. Flying low, and watching the ground for an airport.
From the air they were able to identify scattered seaside huts, and even fishing boats out on the ocean. But no town of any size, and no sign of an airport.
“We ought to land and make inquiries,” Linda was thinking to herself, when Dot suddenly let out a piercing scream. Terrified, Linda looked all about her, thinking they must be rushing headlong into some awful peril.
“I see the plane!” Dot cried, frantically. “Over there on the beach—to the left!”
Linda peered out to the side her chum indicated, but she could distinguish nothing but a blurred outline of green.
“The Sky Rocket!” screamed Dot. “Bank to the left!”
Though she still failed to see it with her naked eye, Linda’s heart beat rapidly with the thrill of success, and she took the direction Dot indicated. She dipped lower, and banked to the left, approaching the spot slowly. And then, sure enough, she saw it for herself. The Sky Rocket!
The beach was wide and the plane stood erect, as if all ready for a take-off. Suppose it sailed off this moment! Before Linda could get to it! The Sky Rocket was bigger, faster, newer than the Ladybug—wouldn’t it be sure to get away in a race?
While these thoughts were running through her head, she kept her eyes glued upon the plane, approaching it cautiously. Nearer and nearer she came—but still the Sky Rocket did not move. What was Sprague’s game now? Would he wait for her to land, and shoot from under cover?
Down—down the Ladybug came. To death? Or at least a struggle? Reaching instinctively for her revolver, Linda landed the autogiro on the beach, about a hundred yards from the enemy plane.... And—waited!
Chase, his hand on his revolver, climbed out of the autogiro and slipped cautiously around the side. He kept his eyes riveted on the Sky Rocket, but there was no movement whatsoever.
“They’re probably hiding,” he whispered, as the noise of the rotors died out. “You girls stay right here, and creep up on them.”
Dot and Linda did as they were told. In tense silence they watched the young man advance nearer and nearer to the Sky Rocket, expecting every moment to hear a shot ring out from the underbrush that grew along the beach.
It was a deserted spot; there were no cottages or boathouses about. The only sound was the breaking of the waves, with monotonous regularity, upon the shore.
Chase got nearer and nearer; he actually came up to the yellow plane, and peered all around it. Still there was no sign of human life anywhere. He looked into the cockpit; then he sauntered towards the scattered bushes on the beach, examining them with his glasses. And still nothing happened.
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, the girls came out from behind the Ladybug and started to advance towards the Sky Rocket. At the same time Chase, satisfied that the enemy was nowhere about, proceeded slowly back to meet them.
“We’re too late again,” he observed, gloomily. “They’ve abandoned it, there’s no doubt of that. Evidently got scared and decided to leave it.”
Running up to the plane, Linda began to examine it eagerly.
“It seems to be in good condition,” she said. “And that certainly is a lucky break. If I couldn’t get both, I’d rather have the plane than the girl!”
Chase regarded her in amazement.
“But she has your money!” was his comment.
“I know. But I care more about Mr. Eckert’s plane—it’s worth a whole lot more than five thousand dollars. And he was such a good sport to lend it to me. I can just imagine how dreadfully he’d feel, if he thought he’d never see it again. I know how I felt when I lost the Ladybug.”
“But where do you suppose they have gone?” asked Dot. “The Spragues, I mean.”
Linda dropped down to a sitting position on the sand and fished in her pocket for a map.
“They must have taken a boat from somewhere near here,” she said. “So if we can find out where we are, and the nearest seaport town, we might be able to catch them before they sail.”
“We’re pretty far south on this peninsula,” put in Chase, looking over Linda’s shoulder at the map.
“Yes, I think so.... You know what I believe would be best, Bert? If the Sky Rocket is in good condition—we’ll look her over in a minute and find out—one of us could fly her south along the coast, and another take the Ladybug north. In that way we ought to pick up news of our honeymooners pretty quickly.”
“Good idea!” returned Chase, immediately. “Which plane do you want, Linda?”
“I think I’d rather have the Sky Rocket,” returned the girl. “If you can manage the Ladybug. Because if I should find out that the Spragues have sailed somewhere in a boat, I might like to pursue them. And the Sky Rocket can go so much faster, and carry enough gas for a trip across the United States.”
“It’s all one to me,” agreed Chase. “If you’ll trust me with the Ladybug.”
“Certainly,” Linda assured him. “Now I think I’ll go look the Sky Rocket over, and tighten some of those wires that I see out of ‘stream-line’. That makes a lot of difference, you know.”
Linda finished her job in less than an hour, and after they had eaten the remainder of their food supply, she gave Chase a few instructions about flying the autogiro. Satisfied that he knew how to manage it, the girls insisted that he take off first, flying back north along the sea-coast.
“And when you’re through, you can park the Ladybug at the Los Angeles airport,” concluded Linda. “I’ll pick her up there, after the girl has been caught—by us, or somebody else.”
She and Dot stood watching the young man take off and soar into the air, until he was finally lost to sight. Once again they were alone, but with more hope of success than they had had before. Now both planes had been regained, and they had the Sky Rocket to rely on. They felt, with it, that they had the world—or better still, the air—at their command.
“There must be a seaport pretty near here,” said Linda, as she and Dot climbed into the powerful yellow plane. “If the Spragues haven’t left from there, they at least ought to be able to find out by wire what vessels have left the coast.”
She flew straight down to Cape San Lucas, a seaport town, which boasted of a sizable airport. It was terribly hot here, when she brought the plane to the ground; the heat seemed to rise in waves to hit them in the face as the girls climbed out of the cockpits. For the airport was located behind the town, and that morning no ocean breezes brought cooling refreshment to landward.
It was a large airport, and it kept attendants who could speak all the principal languages. The man who came forward, a dark Mexican, surprised the girls by speaking perfect English.
Briefly Linda told him the facts of her story—about the stolen planes, which had since been regained, and the forged check for five thousand dollars. But she said nothing about the part in the talking-picture, or of the girl’s having taken her name. There was no reason, she felt, for emphasizing that point or drawing publicity to herself.
“So we think this couple have sailed,” she concluded. “Though under what name, we don’t know. Probably neither Sprague nor Bower, but something else, to fool us, and throw the police off the track. Our first desire is to find out what big vessels have left this vicinity today or yesterday.”
“I’ll get in touch with the docks immediately,” the man assured her. “Though I think can tell you myself. A vessel named the ‘Mona’ left here yesterday for Hawaii. There isn’t another until day after tomorrow, which sails for South America.”
Linda’s eyes shone with excitement.
“Hawaii!” she exclaimed. “I always did want to fly the Pacific!”
“You wouldn’t try it!” he cried, in horror.
“Why not?” she demanded. “It’s only a matter of about two thousand miles—less than a non-stop flight across the United States. And I have a marvellous plane.”
“You mean—this?” he asked, pointing to the Sky Rocket.
“Yes. She’s a marvel, even if she has only one motor. She can make a hundred and fifty miles an hour, and is equipped with all the newest inventions and improvements.”
“I can see that.... But the danger—in any kind of plane,” he remonstrated. “No woman has ever attempted it, and plenty of airmen have found a watery grave in the Pacific.”
“Well, some woman has to be first,” returned Linda. “I’ll think about it, anyway. In the meanwhile, I think I’ll go down to have a talk with the men at the docks.... By the way, have you an expert mechanic?”
“The very best!”
“Then please have him give the Sky Rocket a thorough inspection. Doubly thorough, for tell him what I am contemplating. And have him take a look at the wireless that is already installed. And fill her up with gas and oil.”
“O. K.,” agreed the man, shaking his head as if he thought Linda were crazy.
“Oh, yes—and could you get me a rubber life-boat?” she inquired.
“At considerable cost.”
“Well, get me one if you can, and have it put in,” said Linda, as if she were ordering an ice-cream soda.
“Then you really are serious about going?” asked the man, unable to believe she meant what she was saying.
“If I find good reason to think that couple sailed for Hawaii,” she replied. “But not if I don’t. It isn’t a stunt, you see.”
The girls left immediately in a taxicab for the dock. Here they saw numerous small boats and yachts, and it occurred to Linda to wonder whether the missing couple might not have gone off in a pleasure boat. But after all, they couldn’t get far in the Pacific in a yacht, unless it were one specially built for the purpose, and the idea seemed improbable.
They made their inquiries about the couple of a sailor.
“Yes, there were several young couples among the passengers that left for Hawaii yesterday,” he informed them. “About thirty passengers, all told.”
“But did one of the young couples look like honeymooners?” demanded Dot.
“Can’t say as I noticed. But you can look at the list of passengers in the office. That ought to tell you.”
He led the girls through an open door, where they found the book on the desk with the name of the boat, the “Mona,” and the list. But, as they had expected, neither the name of Bower nor of Sprague occurred.
“If that girl were using her own maiden name, we shouldn’t even know what it was,” remarked Dot, gloomily.
“True,” admitted Linda, thinking how strange it was that once again they were involved in complications with a nameless girl. But, unlike poor little Helen Tower, who had been nameless because of a cruel accident wherein she lost her memory, this girl was deliberately, criminally, nameless.
“Were there any couples in flying costumes?” asked Dot, thinking perhaps that if the Spragues had hiked from the plane, and speed were their object, they wouldn’t have had time to change.
But such a course would have been too obvious, and would have given them away immediately. As she expected, the sailor shook his head to the question.
“Any with hand-luggage?” suggested Linda.
“Yeah. A couple of couples.”
“Now we’re getting there! Can you describe them?”
“Can’t say as I could. Didn’t look at ’em, to tell you the truth. Only I do recollect our baggage man sayin’ he was gipped out of two tips, so these two guys must of carried their bags theirselves.”
“Let’s go see him,” suggested Dot.
“He’s a Mexican. Don’t speak English. But maybe I can explain to him what you want.”
They walked about the dock until they found a greasy-looking man who was sprawled on a truck-van, smoking a pipe. The sailor explained what the girls wanted, and the man sat up and stared at them.
Linda could hardly restrain a shudder. She thought that she wouldn’t care about meeting this man alone in the dark, or in the desert. But he seemed pleasant enough. And, to their delight, he gave them the information they wanted. Pointing abruptly at Linda, he told the sailor in Mexican that one woman looked like that girl!
Before the latter had even interpreted his meaning, Linda and Dot had jumped to the correct conclusion and were wild with excitement. Nothing could keep them back now, short of a cyclone. If the weather held like this on the morrow, they would be on their way to Hawaii!
“That settles it!” announced Linda. Then, turning to the sailor, she inquired the exact destination of the “Mona.”
“Honolulu,” was the reply.
“Then I’ll send a wireless there now,” she said, and proceeded to write out a message.
“Hold all passengers of the ‘Mona’ for identification at Honolulu dock. Two criminals aboard.... Signed, Linda Carlton.”
“The Captain ought to pick up that message, too,” she remarked, turning to Dot as soon as the words had been sent. “And the thing for us to do now, is to make sure that we beat that boat to Honolulu!”
Realizing their need for rest and food, the girls went back to their taxi and directed the driver to take them to the best hotel the seaport afforded. Here they engaged a room for the night and proceeded to make themselves comfortable. After they had their baths, they stretched out on the bed in their room, shaded and darkened by awnings from the hot sun, and began to discuss the proposition seriously. They realized now how suddenly they had plunged headlong into what really might be the experience of a lifetime—an undertaking that took most fliers months and months to prepare for.
“Do you think we ought to go, Dot?” asked Linda, over-awed for the first time at the dangers of the project, when she considered them for somebody besides herself.
“I’m dying to go!” cried the other girl, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “There’s only one thing that might hold me back.”
“What’s that? You mean consideration for your parents?”
“No. They’d be willing to let me do anything you considered safe. It’s just that if I didn’t go with you, you could take a more experienced flier in my place—or a mechanic or a navigator. And that would be better and safer for you.”
“Nonsense!” laughed Linda. “I can do those things, and if anything goes wrong, you can take the controls. You certainly fly well—I’d trust you a lot farther than a good many boys I know—like Ralph Clavering, for instance. You’re air-minded—you have air sense, to put it another way—and you never get rattled. You can take charge if I want to rest—though it isn’t nearly so far as Paris, and I flew that alone.”
“That’s true,” agreed Dot. “It isn’t even as far as if we were taking off from Los Angeles.” She was pleased, more than she could say, at her chum’s praise, for Linda Carlton never said anything she didn’t mean.
“Yes, we’re a lot farther south than Los Angeles—almost in a direct line westward.”
“Are you going to tell your Aunt Emily?” inquired Dot, after a moment of silence.
“No, I think not. I don’t believe I’ll tell anybody except the people at this airport. Then, if anything goes wrong, we shan’t have a lot of unpleasant publicity. Besides, it’s all the better for our cause to keep it a secret. It’s not an aviation feat this time, like flying the Atlantic. The main object is to catch those two criminals.”
“Then we won’t call Spring City on the telephone?”
“No. Let’s send wires, assuring our families of our safety, and telling them not to expect us home for several days. That will put their minds at rest, and won’t disclose anything.”
“What about food?”
“Enough for a day. I figure that if we start before dawn tomorrow, we ought to land early in the morning of the following day. So, while I am mapping out our course, you can go visit the chef and see about packing sandwiches and fruit and coffee. That ought to be enough. And we’ll eat an early breakfast before we start.”
“What are the predictions for weather?”
“Favorable and warm.”
“It doesn’t seem possible that we’re going so soon,” observed Dot.
“It’s the way I like to do things,” returned Linda. “With a snap—and we’re off! Let’s have an early supper, about six o’clock, and get in bed by nine. And leave a call for three o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Three o’clock! The time lots of young people are getting home from dances!”
“Well, this is going to be more thrilling than any dance you ever attended, Dot Crowley!”
“It’s going to be the thrill of a lifetime!”
“I hope it is. I really believe it will end happily, or I shouldn’t be taking you along, for I am the one who’s responsible. The Sky Rocket can carry a good load, and we’re both so light that I can easily put in a big extra tank of gas for emergency, in case we get off our course.”
“And if that runs out, or anything else happens, we’ll go to sea in a rubber life-boat!”
“I hope we shan’t have to,” said Linda.... “But now we really must get to work. I’m going to get out my maps. It’ll be a pretty hard job to locate those little islands in that vast expanse of ocean.”
“If we only don’t run into a fog!” commented Dot.
“But if we do, there’s the good old earth-inductor compass to guide us. And besides, our course lies pretty straight westward.”
For the next few hours the girls scarcely exchanged a word, so busily were they employed upon their duties. Dot sent the wires and interviewed the chef of the hotel, and Linda pored over maps and diagrams, running her fingers through her hair, marking her course with her pencil. At six o’clock she telephoned to the airport with final instructions. Then, dressed as they were, for all their dresses were still at the Los Angeles hotel, they went down to dinner.
The dining-room was warm in spite of the fans, and it seemed exactly like midsummer to the girls, although it really was October by the calendar. But San Lucas was much farther south than Spring City, Ohio.
There were not many people in the dining-room, for it was an early hour to dine. How thankful the girls were that they were not at the Ambassador, crowded as it always was with motion-picture people and visitors! They ate their meal slowly, then retired to their room to work quietly until bed-time.
And so, at nine o’clock they prepared to go to sleep, conscious that their next night would probably be spent on the ocean—an adventure which would either end in disaster, or would make a story that would go down in history, of the first young women to fly the Pacific Ocean.
Only time could answer that question!
The gray dawn of early morning found Linda and Dot at the airport of Cape San Lucas, all ready to take off on their momentous journey. More than two thousand miles over the biggest ocean in the world, without a single stop!
The Sky Rocket was already on the runway, in perfect condition for the trip. Her high-powered Wright engine was performing as excellently as an expensive watch; her instruments were in tune, her tanks filled. The wireless had been tested, and found to be working, and the rubber life-boat which Linda had ordered was tucked away in the plane.
“What are the weather predictions for this morning?” Linda inquired of the mechanic, as Dot put the lunch into the cockpit.