“You’re not joking, Ralph? You wouldn’t—joke about a thing like this?” Her voice was trembling.
“Indeed I’m not, Miss Carlton,” replied the boy, earnestly. “I’m worried sick.”
Mr. Carlton, however, looked less troubled than his sister.
“No, I know you’re not joking, Ralph,” he said. “But you probably are exaggerating. You always see the black side of everything. You and my sister are just alike.... But let’s go over here and sit down, and suppose Jim tells us the story.”
They went to one of the waiting-rooms in the station and sat down together, Miss Carlton struggling hard to get herself under control. Suppose Linda had taken it into her head to fly back—and she and Dot were now lost at the bottom of the Pacific! Suppose—But Jim was already explaining.
“Well, we don’t know much that you haven’t read in the papers,” he began. “The girls went to the dinner and the reception in their honor last night, and were staying at the Governor’s mansion. We were going to sail for the island this morning, but there was no boat till tomorrow, so we called them on the telephone.
“That was about eleven o’clock this morning, and we were told that they were still asleep. We phoned again at one, and they had gone out.
“So we sent a couple of telegrams and waited. We asked them to call our hotel here at Los Angeles. But by seven o’clock there was no message, and we sort of got mad. At least, Ralph did. I thought maybe they had too much to do, but Ralph thought some new bird like that Englishman Linda fell for last summer was taking her time, and he resented it.
“But I persuaded him to give them another chance, and we phoned again. This time the Governor himself talked to me. And he was really scared.
“It seems Linda and Dot had gone to the airport right after they got up about noon, and had taken the Sky Rocket for a flight—”
“The Sky Rocket?” interrupted Mr. Carlton. “Has Linda a new plane?”
“Temporarily—yes. The Ladybug is here at Los Angeles.... But that’s another story.... Well, anyhow, the girls promised to be back early, for a dinner that had been planned in their honor but they haven’t been heard from!”
“Murdered! Attacked by some half-breeds, of course!” cried Miss Carlton. “And no man with them to protect them!”
“Nonsense, Emily!” returned her brother. “They probably ran out of gas—or damaged a wing. Or had a missing spark-plug. Linda will fix that, and those two girls will show up tomorrow morning.”
“I wish I could think that, sir,” said Ralph. “Gosh, if I only had my bug over there on that island! But I haven’t the nerve to fly it.”
“No, don’t!” pleaded Miss Carlton. “It would only add another disaster to our troubles. No, we’ll sail together tomorrow morning.”
“In the meanwhile, let’s go to our hotel and wash and have dinner,” suggested Mr. Carlton. “Then things may look brighter. I positively refuse to worry till I have just cause!”
“Wise man!” commented Jim Valier, as he picked up Miss Carlton’s bag.
So the little group had dinner together at the Ambassador, waiting all the time tensely for news. But none came. And the newspapers duly reported the story that the dinner for two famous aviatrixes had been postponed!
The flight across the Pacific from Oahu to Lanai took less than two hours. Early in the afternoon Linda brought the Sky Rocket to a landing on the beach of the lonely island, near to the spot indicated on her map.
“That must be the agent’s shack over there,” she said, as she and Dot climbed out of the cockpit. “I hope he’s there.”
The girls walked along the beach a short distance. How different it was from Waikiki! How deserted! Yet just as beautiful in the bright sunlight. Before they reached the shack, however, a man in a linen suit came out to meet them.
“Miss Carlton and Miss Crowley, I suppose?” he inquired, holding out his hand. He was a pleasant-faced man of middle age, with a tanned complexion and eyes as blue as the waters of the Pacific. “My name is Jardin. I have the wireless from Honolulu.”
“Then you know all about us,” said Linda. “Can you take us to Steven Long’s plantation?”
“Yes, I can. But it doesn’t seem possible that that man is a criminal. What are the charges against him?”
Briefly, Linda told the facts of her story.
“But those are all charges against the girl,” Jardin pointed out. “You haven’t anything against Long.”
“He stole two planes,” insisted Dot.
“You mean his wife stole them. I don’t think that man can fly.”
Linda and Dot looked at each other in disappointment. How awful it would be if they couldn’t bring Sprague to justice! For they believed that he was responsible for the whole affair.
“Well, we’ve got plenty against the girl—if she is the one you’re seeking,” concluded Jardin. “So I’ll get my runabout and drive you over to their plantation.”
“Wait!” interposed Dot. “A plane’s coming! Who can it be?”
“Probably only some of the coast guards,” explained Jardin, gazing up at the approaching monoplane. It was the type used by the U. S. fliers in their patrol about the islands.
Nearer and nearer it whirred; a moment later it swooped down on the beach a short distance from them. The pilot climbed out of the cockpit, and the girls, recognizing him instantly, uttered a wild cry of joy. It was Bertram Chase!
“Bert!” they both cried at the same time, as he rushed forward and seized their hands. “What miracle brought you here?”
“I found out about your flight at the Honolulu airport,” he replied. “You might know I’d come after you, no matter where you went!”
“But what are you doing in Hawaii?” demanded Dot.
“I sailed from Los Angeles the very night I left you—after I put the Ladybug into the airport. We’re on the track of a counterfeiter, and a clue pointed to Honolulu. Money turned in at a bank there. So I was sent to Hawaii. Lucky break for me!” He looked admiringly at Linda.
“That’s great!” exclaimed Dot. “Leave your plane here and come along with us in Mr. Jardin’s car. We think we’re going to nab Linda’s double at last.”
Mr. Jardin took the wheel of his runabout and Linda sat beside him. In the rumble-seat behind, Dot and Bert Chase laughed and talked excitedly of the adventure.
Over the beach, through lanes that could hardly be called roads, the little car threaded its way into the heart of the island. Fifteen minutes later, within sight of a low, straw-covered bungalow, it came to a stop.
“This is Long’s place,” announced Jardin. “Do you all want to come in with me?”
“Certainly,” replied Dot, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Along a path overgrown with ferns and flowers, in thick profusion, the little party went single file to the veranda of the bungalow. Not a person was in sight; the place looked empty. Had Sprague and his wife run away again—or were they only hiding?
Jardin stepped boldly up to the door and rapped. A native boy answered his summons in a minute or two.
“Meester Jardin,” he said, with a grin of welcome.
“Is your master about?” asked the agent.
The boy nodded and beckoned for them to come inside.
The room to which the door opened was deserted. A plain, bare room, with only a few rough chairs, a table, and a hard cot. Not exactly the kind of place a woman would enjoy.
“I get him,” said the boy, indicating for the visitors to be seated, and going out of the front door again.
Linda and Dot sat down upon the hard chairs, but Chase wandered aimlessly around the room, examining its scanty contents with curiosity. Another native boy came in with a pitcher of water, and Jardin inquired for Mrs. Long.
“She sick,” he explained, briefly, pointing to another room beyond, and he, too, disappeared.
They drank their water, and waited tensely. Why didn’t the man come? Did he suspect something? Chase continued to walk about the room, peering with interest, at the closed door where the girl was supposed to be lying, stopping now at the table beside a window, and picking up a little tool that looked like a nut-pick, that was lodged in a crack between the table and the window-sill.
“What’s that, Bert?” asked Dot idly, not because she cared about knowing, but just for something to say.
“Looks like a dentist’s drill to me,” remarked Jardin, with a shudder.
But Chase was holding it up, examining it closely, his eyes staring with unbelief. He had made a discovery!
“I’m going to investigate this place!” he announced, putting the little instrument into his pocket. “See you later.” And he went out of the front door.
“Now what do you suppose—?” began Dot, but she stopped abruptly, for at that moment a door at the back opened and Long came into the room. He, like Jardin, was wearing a linen suit, and a big hat, but there was no mistaking the man. As Linda and Dot had insisted, he was none other than Leslie Sprague!
If he was startled by the sight of the two aviatrixes, he did not betray the fact by his expression. Whatever he felt, he covered his surprise by a grin.
“Afternoon, Jardin,” he said, calmly shaking hands. “How are you?”
“Afternoon, Long,” replied the agent, looking questioningly at the girls.
“How do you do, Mr. Leslie Sprague?” asked Dot, triumphantly.
Sprague shrugged his shoulders and laughed.
“A name I used in connection with moving-pictures,” he explained to Jardin.
“Where is your wife, Long?” asked the agent, desirous of getting this business over as quickly as possible. “If she is the girl these young ladies believe her to be, we have a warrant for her arrest.”
“Poor Fanny’s sick,” replied Sprague. “Too bad to arrest her now, when she feels so rotten.... Besides, it was only a prank.” He looked understandingly at Jardin.
“A prank!” repeated Dot, in disdain. “A prank to steal two planes, chloroform both of us, and forge a check for five thousand dollars!”
Sprague laughed uncomfortably.
“You must be mistaken, Miss—er—Manton.” He remembered Dot’s assumed name, and took pleasure in using it. “Probably Mexican bandits did that.”
“Mexican bandits can’t fly planes!” returned Dot, defiantly.
“We will have to take your wife, Long,” interrupted Jardin. “Go in and get her.”
“Can’t we arrest him?” demanded Dot, resentfully.
“I don’t see how we can, until we have something more definite,” replied Jardin, who was evidently an easy-going person, who hated to suspect anybody. “We can hold him as accessory while his wife is being tried....”
He stopped abruptly, for Chase suddenly opened the door and walked into the room, dragging a man with him. A hard-looking fellow, with a sullen expression and a slinking gait.
“I have found my counterfeiter!” Chase announced triumphantly to Jardin. “And this is his accomplice!”
Still holding the man by the arm, the detective swung about and pointed his finger at Sprague.
“Steven Long is the criminal the U. S. Government has been searching for for a year! Long, alias Logman, alias Sprague—” He stopped, and laughed. “To think that I saw this man in the studio of the Apex Film Corporation—even tried to help him out—and never knew who he was! The joke is on me!”
“But you’ve got him now!” cried Dot, unable to restrain her delight.
All eyes were turned upon Sprague. He was not laughing now. Rather, he was cowering, deathly pale, holding on to a chair for support. He did not even demand how Chase had discovered his secret. But Jardin asked immediately.
“It was this little instrument I picked up out of the crack,” explained the young detective, producing the tool that resembled a nut-pick. “I recognized it as an engraver’s tool. I wondered why it should be here. And then I had an inspiration to search the place. Where could a counterfeiter work better than here on this lonely island? Under the guise of a pineapple planter?”
“But is that all the proof you have, Chase?” demanded Jardin, impatiently.
“Not by any means. That was only the beginning. I wandered about the place till I found another shack, hidden almost completely by camouflage. But I got in. And caught this fellow—” he shook his captive’s arm—“in the act of engraving fifty-dollar bills!”
Deliberately, then, he reached into his pocket for two pairs of handcuffs, which he calmly proceeded to fasten upon the wrists of the two men. A tense silence lasted while he performed this operation, a silence which was suddenly broken by the hysterical wail of a girl.
In a second the closed door of the bedroom was flung open, and Linda’s double dashed into the room. Sobbing with fright, she threw herself at Linda’s feet.
“I didn’t know I was married to a criminal!” she wailed. “Oh, this is the end—the end of everything! I wish I was dead!”
Leaning over, Linda gently raised the girl to her feet, and for the first time, looked into the face of her double. The same blue eyes, and blond, curly hair; a nose not unlike her own, and a lovely, flower-like complexion. But oh, how different she looked, with that expression of terror and misery on her face, and the tears streaming from her eyes! Like Linda, and yet totally unlike her!
“Sit down,—Fanny,” whispered Linda. “And try to control yourself.”
The girl did as she was told, and Chase turned to Jardin.
“Let’s take these men away in your car, Jardin,” he suggested. “And come back for the girls. We’ll send a wireless for a boat to come over from Honolulu and put them into the jail there.”
“Is that all right with you, Miss Carlton?” inquired Jardin. “Can you manage Fanny till we get back?”
“Yes, that suits me,” agreed Linda.
“Do you want to say good-bye to your husband, Mrs. Long?” asked Chase.
“I never want to see him again!” was the impassioned reply. “I hate him!”
So the four men went out, leaving Linda and Dot alone at last with the girl who had made so much trouble for them. The girl who had pretended to be Linda Carlton!
The three girls sat silently for a few minutes after the men had left. They heard the car start, and Fanny heaved a sigh of relief.
“Of course you hate me,” she said, in a pathetic voice, turning her face towards Linda. “But I don’t believe you can hate me half so much as I hate Les!”
Both Linda and Dot looked at the girl in surprise.
“But you didn’t have to marry him!” Dot pointed out.
“I know. But I hadn’t found him out then. I—I didn’t know anybody could be so awful!”
Linda stood up.
“Suppose,” she suggested, “we go outside where it is so much more beautiful—and hear your story, Fanny. I’d like to know just what did lead up to your pretending to be me.”
The girl jumped to her feet. She didn’t seem sick at all now; in all probability it had only been nerves.
“Wait,” she said. “I want to get you something first.” And she disappeared into the bedroom.
In a moment she returned, carrying a heavy bag in her hands.
“It’s your money, Linda,” she said. “That check I cashed. Les made me get it in gold—I guess he didn’t want the bank numbers traced. Anyhow, I hid it, and never let him have it.”
And she dropped the bag at Linda’s feet.
“Why, thank you, Fanny,” said Linda, in surprise. “I’ll just leave it here till Mr. Chase comes back for us.”
“Aren’t you going to count it?”
“Oh, no. I believe you,” replied Linda.
Tears came into Fanny’s eyes. She seized Linda’s hand gratefully.
“It’s sweet of you to say that,” she said. “But you better not leave it here just the same. You can’t trust those native boys.”
“True,” admitted Dot, and picking it up, she carried it for Linda out of the bungalow.
The girls walked along the path and settled themselves on the ground amongst the bright flowers and soft ferns. Now that Fanny had stopped crying, it was astonishing how much she resembled Linda. Both Linda and Dot watched her intently, eager to hear her version of the story.
“Well,” she began, finally, “I’ll tell you first of all that I’m an orphan. I was brought up in a children’s home—I don’t remember my parents at all. But I had a pretty good education, and took a business course after I finished high school. My first job was with an airplane construction company.”
“Yon mean you had a flying job?” interrupted Linda, with interest.
“No. I was a stenographer. But the boss did give me a chance to learn to fly—on the side. But there wasn’t any hope of a job in aviation—I just worked inside the office for twenty-five dollars a week. And, like every other girl in the world, I never had enough money.”
“Where did you work?” asked Dot. “What city, I mean?”
“San Francisco. That was the trouble, I suppose. Too near Hollywood. I got the craze to go into pictures. Everybody told me I was pretty—and other girls succeeded—so why shouldn’t I?”
“Naturally,” commented Dot.
“Well, I had some money saved up,” continued Fanny, “and I tried to register at all the studios as an extra. But I soon learned how impossible it is to get into the movies in times like these. I couldn’t land a thing—not even a part in a crowd!”
“I’ve heard they’re using old actresses and actors for those parts—people who used to be stars—and even ex-directors,” remarked Linda.
“It’s true! And even some of those people can’t get anything at all! People with years of experience go absolutely broke!... Well, my money dwindled and dwindled until I finally met Mr. Sprague. Not in a studio—but at a party. That was last June—only a little while after you made your famous Atlantic Ocean flight.”
Linda nodded, wondering whose idea the masquerade had been. She asked the question.
“It was Mr. Sprague’s,” replied Fanny. “He saw the resemblance immediately to your newspaper pictures, and when he found out I could fly a plane, he told me I ought to cash in on it. I thought he was only joking, but he told me he was serious, and explained how you had refused movie contracts at enormous salaries.... Well, he kept after me, and when I found that I wasn’t getting any parts, and that my money was all gone and even my old job in San Francisco, I gave in and promised to try it.
“Les planned everything—even rehearsed with me how I was to talk to Mr. Von Goss. And it was he who pushed through the aviation picture.
“Mr. Von Goss was lovely—he never asked me for any proofs of my identity at all, just signed me up for the picture, and it was Les who made me insist on the enormous salary. I acted stubborn, like Greta Garbo, and I got it.
“And then Les proposed to me. Told me that he’d invest my money, and give up his job at the studio and come over here to Hawaii to live after we were married. He said he had a plantation here, and that I’d never be discovered as the girl who pretended to be Linda Carlton. Oh, Les can be very charming if he tries, and he made me think we’d live on this island paradise in a perpetual honeymoon.”
“Then you had no idea that he was also involved in anything that was crooked?” asked Linda.
“No. Absolutely none. I just thought that the masquerade was a clever trick, that wouldn’t really hurt anybody, because you had refused movie contracts.... Well, to get back to the story.... Everything went well till you girls appeared. Of course we were prepared for that—Les had thought it all out ahead of time, in case you ever did show up. I came back to Los Angeles, as you know, in a hired plane, and was just about to land when Les gave me the pre-arranged signal not to come down. You remember—waving his hat on the field?”
Linda nodded, though she had hardly noticed it at the time.
“I flew off and landed an hour later at Culver City. And he pushed the rehearsals right through, and the next morning he told me to go right to the Los Angeles airport and demand your autogiro. We’d only borrow it, he said, to get away. I believed him, and did it, for I was anxious to be married and out of the country. We flew to Mexico, as you know, and got married.
“And I guess you know the rest. How we circled about you when we found out you were chasing us—and how we changed planes. But you don’t know that Les made me fly that Sky Rocket at the point of a pistol. He seemed to change then and there into a demon, and he had me frightened to death. Of course I realized what a horrible mistake it had been to marry him.
“Then he seemed nice again when we sailed on that boat, but when I actually saw you girls fly over the Pacific Ocean, it was too much for me. We recognized the Sky Rocket, and knew you were after us. I wanted to give up then, but Les said nobody would ever find us here at Lanai....”
“But didn’t you know that he was a counterfeiter, after you lived here?”
“No, of course not. I never knew till this afternoon. Of course I’d often seen that man before—the one that the detective caught—but I thought he was just the overseer. Les has always been away from here most of the time, so he needed somebody to manage the plantation.”
“Is there much of a plantation?” asked Linda, suspiciously.
“I guess not,” admitted Fanny. “We do raise a few pineapples. But I never saw any great quantities. And there are only a couple of native boys working here.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about your marriage, anyhow. So long as Sprague married you under a false name, and in Mexico besides, I guess it can easily be annulled. You won’t have to see him again.”
Fanny was silent, worn out with the tension of telling her story. Stretching back, she buried her face in the ferns. Linda and Dot looked at each other in hopeless dismay. Here was the girl whom Linda had threatened to prosecute to the uttermost, completely in her power, and she felt only sympathy for her!
“You poor kid!” said Dot, feelingly, as if Fanny were years younger than she was.
“Oh, I know it’s my own fault,” said Fanny, with a suppressed sob. “It was acting a lie in the beginning. But I never dreamed it would lead to anything like this. I thought if you—the real Linda Carlton—ever did appear, I’d just hand over the money, and maybe you’d give me back part of it for my work in the picture.”
“I suppose,” said Linda, “that we have to learn for ourselves that deceit never pays. But somehow, I can’t be hard on you, Fanny. And I’ll tell you why. It’s because of the very first thing you told us—that you are an orphan. It’s so much more difficult if you haven’t parents to teach you. I—haven’t a mother—but I have a wonderful father and a loving aunt.... So, somehow, I just feel as if I hadn’t the right to judge you....”
Without raising her head from the ground, Fanny groped blindly for Linda’s hand. And found it and pressed it gratefully.
The sound of a motor in the distance made the girls glance towards the lane. The car was returning.
“What are you going to do with me?” asked Fanny, plaintively.
“Take you with us, of course,” replied Linda. “You can fly with Mr. Chase.”
“And—when we get to Honolulu—shall I have to go to jail?”
Linda hesitated a moment and looked at Dot. But her companion, usually so relentless in seeing that justice was done, had evidently softened too. She, also, felt a great sympathy for Fanny.
“I don’t think so,” said Linda. “I think you’ve suffered enough, Fanny. You’ve returned my money, and both planes, and if you’ll return Mr. Von Goss’s—”
“I can’t!” interrupted the girl. “Les took that.”
“Well, he’ll be made to return it. So—if you’ll promise to be good, I think we’ll let you go free—if Mr. Chase can fix it up with the police.”
The girl’s blue eyes opened wide with appreciation.
“You really mean that, Linda?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh, you are wonderful! So generous! So clever, too!” She lowered her eyelids. “And to think I ever dared to pretend I could be you!”
Linda flushed in embarrassment at this praise—from the girl she had been regarding as her worst enemy. Luckily she did not need to say anything, for the car had stopped now, and Jardin, who had returned alone, was getting out.
“I left Chase with the two prisoners,” he explained. “Now you girls climb in.”
“Oughtn’t we to say something to the native boys who work here?” asked Fanny.
“I’ll come back and talk to them later,” replied Jardin. “After Long tells me what he wants to do with the plantation.”
The ride back to the beach consumed only fifteen minutes, but Linda realized when she got there that the afternoon was gone. So much time had been spent at the plantation, waiting around, first for Sprague, and then for the return of Jardin. Though it was still bright sunlight, her watch indicated six o’clock.
“We had better send a wireless to our hostess,” she said to Dot. “To let her know that we can’t be back in time for dinner.”
Her chum nodded dismally. Another festivity passed up! But it had been worth while this time, for at last their purpose was accomplished.
Linda proceeded to send the wireless from the Sky Rocket, and then returned to the agent’s shack, where Chase was still sitting.
“Will you take Fanny,” she asked, “and when you get to Honolulu see whether you can have that warrant for her arrest nullified? We are dropping the charges.”
The young detective stared at Linda in incredulous amazement.
“You don’t really mean it?” he gasped.
Linda laughed.
“I do, though. Fanny returned the money—and is sorry, so we’re forgiving her. That’s all there is to it.”
“You stand there and tell me you’re letting that girl off, after flying four thousand miles, over land and ocean, to capture her?” he demanded.
Linda nodded.
“But why?”
“Because Linda’s a Christian!” retorted Dot, exasperated at the delay. “But I warn you, Bert, I won’t show Christian spirit towards you, if you don’t stop talking and get a move on pretty soon. Do you realize we’re starved—and we’ve got almost two hours’ flight before we get any food?”
Chase grinned, and started towards the door.
“If you’re willing to wait an hour,” suggested Jardin, “I can take you all to my bungalow for supper.”
“No, thank you, Mr. Jardin,” replied Linda. “We want to be on our way—and fly while it is light. We’ll set off immediately. Fanny, you go with Mr. Chase. Come on, everybody!”
“What’s your other name, Fanny?” asked Chase, as the group walked along the beach to the planes.
“Preston,” replied the girl, with a sigh of relief at the thought of dropping the name of Sprague—or Long—forever.
The Sky Rocket took off first, and five minutes later Chase’s monoplane left the island. Within sight of each other, the two planes flew across the Pacific in the glorious light of the sunset, and arrived at the Honolulu airport without any disaster, a little after eight o’clock.
Leaving the planes at the airport, the four young people ate supper together at a quick-lunch restaurant in Honolulu. Here they discussed their plans concerning Fanny Preston.
Linda insisted that the girl live at one of the smaller hotels, on some of the gold pieces which she had returned that afternoon, and though Fanny protested, she had no money of her own, and no place to go, so she finally had to agree. In the meantime, Chase promised to work for her release.
“And then we’ll take you back to Los Angeles with us when we go,” Linda concluded. “And try to find you a job.”
There were tears in Fanny’s eyes when Linda and Dot finally left her at the hotel and took a taxi to the Governor’s mansion. Here they offered profuse apologies to their hostess—apologies which she dismissed with a smile. She was delighted to learn that the counterfeiting menace had been checked, for news of this crime had been in the papers for more than a year. She felt that Linda and Dot had helped in a big service for both Hawaii and the United States, but the girls insisted that the honors were for Bertram Chase.
“Now for our telegrams!” exclaimed Linda. “Oh, I do so hope there is one from father!”
“I received one from your father, Miss Carlton,” announced her hostess. “From Los Angeles. He and your aunt are sailing tomorrow for Honolulu. And two young men are with them—I have forgotten their names.”
“Was one of them Jim—I mean James—Valier?” asked Dot, eagerly.
The older woman smiled.
“I believe so,” she said. “And a Ralph somebody. Would that be right?”
“Absolutely,” agreed Dot, with immense satisfaction.
“So, in view of that news,” continued the Governor’s wife, “I think we will plan a big dinner for the night they arrive. It takes four days, you know, from Los Angeles. I hope we can keep you amused until then.”
“Oh, we love it here!” cried Linda. “It’s the most beautiful spot in the world!”
So, although Linda was anxious to see her own family and the two boys, the time nevertheless passed pleasantly. They went to the famous Waikiki beach every morning, and swam in the water that seemed like velvet, or rode in the launches and speed boats. After luncheon they drove about the beautiful island visiting the marvellous aquarium, with its gorgeous fish of all colors and descriptions, or viewing the mountains and the coral formations; and in the evening they would watch the glorious sunsets over the ocean and then dance or bathe in the moonlight. One lovely afternoon Linda and Dot took Fanny and flew to the island of Kauai, and saw the Waimea Canyon and the Barking Sands, and the rocky, jagged cliffs, and the beaches and parks in all their beauty. And one evening Bert Chase went with them on another flight, for he had managed to have his stay at Hawaii extended, since he had successfully completed his work.
And so the great day came when the boat from Los Angeles docked at Pearl Harbor. Linda and Dot were at the wharf half an hour before it was scheduled to arrive, so impatient were they to see their folks from home.
A great surging joy swelled up in Linda’s throat at the sight of her father as he came forward to meet her. It was so suffocating that for a moment she couldn’t say a word of greeting. Breathless, she flew into his arms.
“Daughter!” he said, in a tone filled with emotion.
“Daddy, darling!” she managed to stammer, and then, recovering herself somewhat, she kissed her aunt and shook hands with the boys.
“Congratulations, congratulations, and then some!” exclaimed Jim, to both of the girls.
“It was great, Linda!” cried Ralph.
“‘Linda and Dot,’ if you please,” corrected Linda. “Dot did every bit as much as I did!”
“In fact, I flew nearer the ocean,” added her chum, mischievously. “So near that I almost drowned us both!”
“Don’t tell us about the dangers—now that you have miraculously escaped with your lives!” begged Miss Carlton, with a shiver.
And then everybody talked at once, asking questions, making explanations, accounting for all the time since they had seen each other. The girls drove right to the hotel with the party, and here Linda dragged out Fanny and introduced her, much to Miss Carlton’s amazement. And then she actually asked her aunt to look after the girl for the rest of the visit, until they should all go back to Los Angeles together.
The dinner at the Governor’s mansion that night was another gorgeous affair. All the celebrities of the island were invited, as well as Linda’s friends. Even Fanny Preston was included, and Bertram Chase was accorded a seat of honor on Linda’s right, with Ralph Clavering on her left—an arrangement which made Ralph exceedingly jealous, for Chase managed to absorb most of her attention.
“I want you to go into the secret service, Linda,” he said, earnestly. “You’d be a marvellous detective. Have you signed up for anything for the winter?”
“I had expected to teach,” replied the aviatrix. “But I guess it’s too late for that.”
“No, no, don’t do that.”
Chase wasn’t eating at all, instead he was fumbling with his fork, as if he were terribly nervous. Linda noticed his queer actions, and wondered what could be the cause of them, for he had always seemed to have such easy, pleasant manners. But his next question, abrupt as it was, offered the explanation.
“It’s a funny place—and a funny time—to ask you, Linda,” he began, very low “but I’m so afraid you’ll fly away and I’ll never see you again.... You see—I’m crazy about you. I love you! I want you to marry me, and fly everywhere with me!”
Faltering as his speech was at first, he ended it very fast, as if he had to finish with one breath. Out of the corner of her eye, Linda could see his hand trembling; this fearless flier, who dared all sorts of dangers! Why, he seemed to be afraid to look in her face!
Linda, too, was embarrassed; she didn’t know what to say. She liked him so much that she couldn’t bear to hurt his feelings, yet marriage was out of the question at this time.
“I appreciate it a lot, Bert,” she finally replied, softly. “But—I couldn’t. Not now, anyway,” she added, so as not to seem too abrupt. “But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t see me often. Distance isn’t anything to fliers. And I’ll talk to you later about the secret service.” She paused, nodding in Ralph’s direction.... “This impatient boy on my left is having a fit. I must talk to him now.”
She turned to the latter, sulking as usual.
“Old friends are a nuisance when we have a new crush, aren’t they?” he asked, bitterly.
“Ralph, behave yourself!” she commanded. “Don’t spoil my party by getting peeved!”
“I’m sorry, Linda,” he said, penitently. “I didn’t mean it. Only I just know that guy has fallen for you. What was he talking to you so long about?”
Linda blushed. “He wants me to go into secret service flying,” she explained.
“He would! And then get you to marry him!”
Linda laughed, as if to imply that what Ralph suggested was nonsense. If he only knew how near to the point he had come!
“Well, are you going to do it?” he persisted.
“I don’t know. First I’m going to get my Ladybug at Los Angeles—and fly home!”
“Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home!” quoth Ralph.
“We will!” promised Linda, smiling. But she did not say how long she would stay there.
The End.