The Project Gutenberg eBook ofLinda Carlton's Hollywood FlightThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Linda Carlton's Hollywood FlightAuthor: Edith LavellRelease date: December 21, 2016 [eBook #53337]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Rick Morris, Stephen Hutcheson, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LINDA CARLTON'S HOLLYWOOD FLIGHT ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Linda Carlton's Hollywood FlightAuthor: Edith LavellRelease date: December 21, 2016 [eBook #53337]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Rick Morris, Stephen Hutcheson, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
Title: Linda Carlton's Hollywood Flight
Author: Edith Lavell
Author: Edith Lavell
Release date: December 21, 2016 [eBook #53337]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Rick Morris, Stephen Hutcheson, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LINDA CARLTON'S HOLLYWOOD FLIGHT ***
The two girls waited in breathless suspense. (Page 113)The two girls waited in breathless suspense. (Page 113)
The two girls waited in breathless suspense. (Page 113)
LINDA CARLTON’SHOLLYWOOD FLIGHTBy EDITH LAVELLAuthorof“The Girl Scout Series,” “Linda Carlton’s Ocean Flight,” “Linda Carlton, Air Pilot,” “Linda Carlton’s Island Adventure,” Etc.Series LogoA. L. BURT COMPANYPUBLISHERSNew YorkChicago
By EDITH LAVELL
Authorof“The Girl Scout Series,” “Linda Carlton’s Ocean Flight,” “Linda Carlton, Air Pilot,” “Linda Carlton’s Island Adventure,” Etc.
Series Logo
A. L. BURT COMPANYPUBLISHERSNew YorkChicago
Thrilling Adventure Stories of a Group of Girl Aviation EnthusiastsBy EDITH LAVELL
Copyright, 1933By A. L. BURT COMPANY
ToMy Husband,Victor Lamasure Lavell.
A bright red sports-roadster, loaded to overflowing with young people of both sexes, turned in at the gate of the Carltons’ home in Spring City and whizzed up the driveway to the porch steps. As it stopped at the entrance, Dorothy Crowley, who was Linda Carlton’s best friend, disentangled herself from the group and jumped out.
“Hello, Miss Carlton!” she called to the middle-aged woman sitting on the porch. “Any news of the world’s most famous aviatrix?”
“You mean Linda?” returned Miss Carlton, smiling.
Dot nodded.
“Of course. Have you heard from her?”
“No, I haven’t, Dorothy. But then, I didn’t expect to. You know, of course, that Linda has set her heart on taking some sort of flying position, and she had several prospects to interview.”
“But she’s been gone a week!” protested Dot. “This is the twenty-second of September.”
“I know, but she expected to be gone a week. She ought to be home some time today. If she doesn’t come, I think she will let me know.”
“Well, we miss her just fearfully,” concluded Dot. “And we want to hear the very minute she gets back. You know Ralph leaves for college tomorrow, and he’s all hot and bothered about going off without even a good-bye from Linda.”
Miss Carlton smiled at the mention of Ralph Clavering’s devotion to her niece. The young man, whose father happened to be the wealthiest citizen of Spring City, made no attempt to keep his admiration for Linda a secret.
“I’ll have her call you the minute she arrives. At least—if she doesn’t come home in an ambulance.”
Dot laughed at the absurdity of such a suggestion and turned to go. In her haste she almost bumped into a messenger-boy, who at that very moment was coming up the porch steps with a telegram.
Miss Carlton rose from her seat and stepped forward excitedly.
“Oh, I’m afraid something dreadful has happened!” she exclaimed, ominously.
Dot remained motionless, and even the young people in the car grew silent. An awful tenseness seemed to hang over the peaceful September day, as Miss Carlton received the message into her trembling hands.
“Why, it’sforLinda—notfromher!” she cried in sudden relief. “So she must be all right.”
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when the drone of a motor attracted everybody’s attention to the skies. A plane—yes, with the rotors that proclaimed it an autogiro—was approaching from the west, until it seemed to hover over the very house itself.
“There she is!” screamed Dot, joyously, and in another moment the six young people in the roadster had all jumped out and were racing towards the field beyond the house, where Linda always landed her plane.
“Thank goodness!” exclaimed Miss Carlton, grateful that once again the girl who had been through so many catastrophes in her zeal for flying would be safe on the ground.
Linking her arm with Dot’s, she accompanied the young people to the field beyond the house.
With the ease of a cat settling down to take her nap, the Ladybug, Linda’s famous autogiro, descended to the earth, and the slender, pretty girl in a flier’s suit and helmet, climbed out of the cockpit.
“Darling!” cried Dot, dashing forward for the first embrace.
Linda tried to hug everybody at once, with an especially tender caress for her Aunt Emily, who had mothered her ever since she was a baby.
“Were you kidnapped?” inquired Ralph Clavering, the tall, good-looking young man who considered Linda his special property.
“Or in a burning house?” suggested Kit Hulbert, Ralph’s married sister.
Linda shook her head laughingly.
“Just taking a good week’s rest, I’ll bet!” surmised long-legged Jim Valier, whose idea of bliss was to sleep. “Don’t blame you a bit, Linda. A fellow can’t get a decent nap with this snappy bunch around, let alone a full night’s rest!”
“You’re surely all right, dear?” inquired Miss Emily Carlton, anxiously. “No bones broken?”
Again Linda smiled.
“I’m fine, and I had a most successful trip. I’ll tell you all about it later—if anything materializes,” she added, mysteriously.
“We want to go to the movies,” explained Kit, as they all turned back towards the house. “Can you make it, Linda?”
“Yes, if you will give me fifteen minutes for a shower, and five for a bite to eat,” she replied. “And if Aunt Emily will come along too,” she added affectionately.
She made even better time than she had promised, and inside of a quarter of an hour, a different Linda Carlton came down the stairs. Clad in a blue silk suit the color of her eyes, her beautiful blond hair showing under her turban, she looked more like a society girl than the world’s most famous aviatrix.
In the meanwhile, Dot had gone into the garage and brought out Linda’s roadster, for Ralph Clavering’s car, elastic as it seemed to be, could not be stretched to accommodate two extra passengers. Since Miss Carlton had graciously accepted their invitation, they wanted her to be comfortable.
“So you won’t ride with me!” complained Ralph, as he watched Linda take her place at the wheel of her own car.
“I’ll sit beside you in the movies,” she promised,
“And you even take Dot away from us!” protested Jim Valier, pretending to be angry.
“You’ll be glad of my space!” returned Dot, as she squeezed into Linda’s car, between her chum and Miss Carlton.
“We’ll miss the wise-cracks,” remarked Ralph. “But I can’t say that you occupy much room, Dot.” He started his engine. “Hurry up, now, or we’ll miss the news reel, and think how ignorant we’ll be!”
The theatre was already darkened when the group entered ten minutes later, so they all walked quietly, in order to make as little disturbance as possible. Even Sara Wheeler, who giggled on every occasion, managed to suppress any outburst with her handkerchief.
But their good behavior lasted only a moment. No sooner were they comfortably seated than the most extraordinary piece of news was flashed on the screen. As if the manager had been waiting for the dramatic moment to make his announcement.
“WORLD’S MOST FAMOUS AVIATRIX SIGNS CONTRACT WITH THE APEX FILM CORPORATION!” thundered the voice of the announcer.
“As if any other girl could be as famous as you, Linda!” whispered Dot resentfully. “I’d like to know who—”
The words died on her lips as the actual picture of the famous aviatrix was shown. Why—it looked like—it must be—Linda herself!
The girl, in a flier’s costume, smiled and turned aside to sign a contract.
“MISS LINDA CARLTON, THE FIRST GIRL TO FLY FROM NEW YORK TO PARIS ALONE, ACCEPTS PART IN ‘BRIDE OF THE AIR,’ A PICTURE NOW BEING FILMED IN HOLLYWOOD,” continued the calm voice of the announcer.
“So that’s where you’ve been!” exclaimed Dot, just a little bit hurt that Linda had kept this a secret from her. They had shared all their joys and secrets ever since their experiences in the Okefenokee Swamp together, and it did not seem possible that Linda would deliberately shut her out of such an important event. Besides, Linda had always refused to go into the movies. Why the sudden change?
“You cagey thing!” muttered Ralph, as amazed at the revelation as Dot, and even more hurt than the latter that he had been excluded from her confidence.
Linda made no attempt to answer; she sat rigid in her seat, staring at the screen with unseeing eyes. The girl whom the announcer had proclaimed to be Linda Carlton was tall and slender, and in her flier’s suit and helmet, had resembled Linda to a remarkable degree. But of course it wasn’t Linda. Why, she hadn’t been near Hollywood!
“It’s not true,” she finally whispered to Dot. “That’s somebody else, posing for me.”
“Now, Linda!” returned Dot, unconvinced. “Don’t try to play innocent!”
“You’ll make a stunning heroine, Linda,” whispered Kit, leaning over from her seat beside Ralph. There was sincere admiration in her tone.
Then the whole party grew excited, and all talked at once, shooting questions at Linda without any regard to the fact that they were supposed to keep quiet. People around them showed perceptible signs of annoyance, until Ralph, sitting back in sullen silence, admonished them all to keep still.
The talk subsided, and the crowd’s attention was diverted during the feature, but Linda did not even see it. Inside she was seething at the very idea of anything so preposterous. Usually a peaceful girl, she felt as if she would like to tear that impostor to pieces.
Yet there was no use trying to tell the young people after the show that it wasn’t true. Hadn’t Linda been away for a number of days, on some mysterious errand connected with flying! Didn’t the girl look like her—why, they were sure it was Linda! And they were thrilled, too. It was great fun to have one of their own group a famous actress, as well as a famous aviatrix. All of them—except Dot and Ralph.
“I want you to stay at our house for supper, Dot,” urged Linda, as the other car drove off after the show. “Can you phone?”
“Yes, of course,” agreed her chum, wondering what kind of explanation Linda was going to make for her secrecy in the affair.
Neither girl mentioned it until they were inside the Carltons’ house. They did not stop on the porch, but followed Linda’s Aunt Emily into the living-room.
“I suppose your telegram was from Hollywood, Linda?” inquired Miss Carlton, as if to lead up to the all-exciting topic.
“No, it wasn’t, Aunt Emily,” replied Linda, decidedly. “It was from Mr. Eckert—you remember, the head of the Air School at St. Louis, where I took my course?... He wanted me to take a position teaching there this year.”
“Why, that sounds very attractive, dear,” replied Miss Carlton. “Safer and more dignified than all this stunt flying you’ll have to do for the pictures.” A look of distress passed over her face.... “Linda, I don’t like your accepting that contract without consulting either me or your father,” she added, gently.
Linda dropped into a chair with a groan.
“Please sit down, Aunt Emily—and Dot. I have a lot to say.”
Not knowing what was coming next, they both complied with her request.
“Haven’t you both always found me pretty truthful?” she asked, seriously.
“Of course we have, dear,” answered the older woman, immediately. “Nobody ever doubts your word. But you never promised me that you wouldn’t go into the films. I never asked you not to, for I thought you wouldn’t consider it.”
“No, Aunt Emily, I wouldn’t. And Ihaven’t! You and Dot must believe me.That girl you saw today impersonating me is a fake.I never signed a contract, with any picture producer, and I haven’t been near Hollywood!”
Dot jumped to her feet joyfully, and, dashing across the room, wound her arms about her chum.
“I’m so glad, Linda!” she cried.
Miss Carlton breathed a long sigh of relief.
“But think of the impudence of that girl!” she exclaimed. “To dare to do a thing like that—”
“Expecting that she can get away with it!” added Dot.
“Well, she can’t!” announced Linda, her eyes shining with indignation. “I’m going to fly right out there and grab her by the collar—and—and—”
“Why, Linda, I never heard you talk so!” remarked her aunt in amazement. “Not even when you were a child.”
“I never had such occasion to do so before. You know what Shakespeare says about stealing your good name. That’s just what that girl’s doing. Making me cheap. As if I were in aviation for publicity, or for personal gain! Oh, I’m stirred up, all right!”
“I don’t blame you one bit, dear!” agreed Miss Carlton, soothingly.
“But what are you going to do?” demanded Dot, realizing that Linda must have already formulated a plan during that moving-picture show. “Going to wire the Corporation?”
“Indeed I’m not!” she replied, emphatically. “They wouldn’t believe me.”
“‘How could they believe you?’” quoted Dot, from the old song of “The Girl from Utah.”
“Exactly! If all my own friends—Ralph, and Kit and Jim and everybody—yes—even you and Aunt Emily—actually thought I was fooling, how could I convince a strange director by merely sending a telegram? He’d think I was the impostor, of course, and their Linda was the real thing.”
“Yes, that’s logical,” admitted Miss Carlton. “But what can you do, dear?”
“I’m going to fly right out to Hollywood tomorrow, after I give the Ladybug a thorough inspection.”
Miss Carlton sighed, this time not in relief.
“Then you’ll be home only one night!”
“I can’t help that, Aunt Emily. I must go. I just have to. I’ll stop and see Mr. Eckert at St. Louis, on my way.”
Dot’s eyes lighted up with sudden inspiration.
“May I go with you, Linda?” she asked.
“May you!” Linda repeated. “Oh, Dot, would you? I’d just love it!”
“And I’d feel safer,” put in her Aunt Emily.
“It’s decided, then,” announced Dot. “I’m thrilled to death!... Oh, Linda, think of seeing Hollywood. The movies being made—and the stars themselves! We’ll have a marvellous time.”
“Be sure to take plenty of clothes,” cautioned Miss Carlton. “You know how much they dress out there.”
“We’ll outshine Lilyan Tashman herself!” promised Linda, thankful that her aunt was not raising any objection to the trip.
“Going to tell Ralph about it?” inquired Dot, as she rose to telephone to her mother.
“What’s the use?” returned Linda. “He wouldn’t believe me. He’d think I was going back to complete my contract. No; he’s peeved—let him stay peeved. I’d rather spend my evening planning our trip.”
“Flying comes first, as always,” observed Miss Carlton, in a resigned tone, as she, too, left the room, to do her part in making the trip comfortable for the two girls.
Early after lunch the following afternoon—another clear, bright fall day typical of late September—Linda Carlton and her chum Dorothy Crowley climbed into the Ladybug, ready to take off for Los Angeles. Smiling and waving good-bye to Miss Carlton and Mrs. Crowley, who were standing on the side of the field, Linda gave her the gun. The plane taxied only a short distance, then with her nose headed upward, she began to climb almost vertically. It was a pretty, graceful take-off, and even Miss Carlton, frightened as she was of planes, had to admit that the autogiro seemed almost human.
“We ought to make St. Louis before dark,” said Linda, through the speaking-tube. “I know the way so well—I flew it so often when I was going to the Air School.”
“I remember,” replied Dot. “You and Louise.”
Louise Haydock had been Linda’s inseparable chum all through high school. Then, when they had graduated, and Linda’s father had given the latter an Arrow Sport plane, the two girls had spent a year at a ground school in St. Louis. Louise’s marriage to Ted Mackay had finally separated them, for the Mackays went to Kansas City to live. Ever since that time Dot Crowley had shared in most of Linda’s flying adventures.
“I’ll tell you what,” suggested Linda. “Let’s send Lou a wire tonight, and plan to stop in Kansas City tomorrow for lunch. I’m wild to see her.”
“Great!” agreed Dot. “If she and Ted aren’t off on some flying trip.”
The autogiro soared up into the clear, tingling air, colder above than it had been on the ground, and the old exhilaration of flying took possession of Linda and made her heart sing. Poor people down there on the earth, looking like ants crawling about on their humdrum affairs, when she was flying joyously through the heavens! Poor Aunt Emily, who would never know the thrill of this higher, freer, purer world!
Even her anger against this impostor was temporarily forgotten. Nobody could be angry long in the sky. And, no matter what happened later, she and Dot were going to enjoy this trip to the coast. It would be the experience of a lifetime to an ordinary girl.
The motor continued to hum evenly and the Ladybug averaged a hundred miles an hour. Over rivers and valleys and flat country, through Ohio, past Indiana, on to Illinois. The sun was setting as the girls sighted the broad waters of the Mississippi, and they knew that their first goal was in sight.
A huge beacon light was already glowing, guiding the fliers on their way to the airport, and then on to the Air School. But Linda could have found her way without any guide, even in the fast increasing darkness.
Linda decreased her speed and hovered over the field. Some of the attendants recognized the famous Ladybug, and by the time the autogiro descended to earth, quite a crowd had gathered to greet her.
“Hello, Miss Carlton! We knew it was you!”
“Glad to see you back, Miss Carlton!”
Linda and Dot jumped out and Linda spoke to all her friends and asked them to put the Ladybug away for the night, and to tell her where to find Mr. Eckert.
“He’s gone home, but you can get him on the telephone,” answered one of the attendants, writing the number down for her.
“We saw you in the movies, Miss Carlton!” announced another. “You didn’t look half pretty enough, though. But we’re sure goin’ a see that picture when it comes to town!”
Linda frowned. She didn’t want to take the time to deny the false impression, but she certainly did hate this sort of thing.
The girls found a taxi at once, and, leaving their bigger box in the autogiro, they took out an overnight bag and went to a hotel that had been familiar to Linda during her year at St. Louis.
“That’s what I’m going to be up against all the time!” she remarked, with distaste, as she and Dot settled back in the taxi.
“You mean about the movies?” questioned her companion. “I was wondering why you didn’t deny it right off.”
“I haven’t time to go about the world denying things. And it seems so useless. Until I have proof, I mean. They wouldn’t believe me any more than the crowd at home did.”
“I suppose you’re right. Oh, well, don’t let’s worry. We can clear the whole thing up in no time.”
They reached the hotel, made an appointment with Mr. Eckert over the telephone, and changed their costumes for dinner. It was after seven o’clock when they sat down to the table, and they did full justice to the meal.
Mr. Eckert’s first remark when he greeted Linda was practically the same as that of the boys on the field.
“I hear you are going into the movies, Linda,” he said, trying to hide his disapproval. “If I had known that, I shouldn’t have wasted your time offering you this position at the school.”
Linda sighed.
“That’s a false rumor, Mr. Eckert,” she explained.
“But it wasn’t a rumor. It was a fact,” he persisted. “Sam and Jeff told me they saw your picture, signing the contract.”
“I know. I saw it too. But it’s a fake. Some girl is impersonating me. For the sake of the money, I suppose.”
The elderly man leaned forward, staring incredulously.
“Do you really mean that, Linda?” he demanded.
She nodded.
“I’m on my way to the coast now, to clear it all up. Naturally, I’m furious.”
“You won’t take over the contract yourself?” the man asked, with apparent satisfaction. What a joy this girl was, he thought! She was made for far greater things than moving-picture acting. Hers was a name that ought to go down in history, among the daring pioneers of aviation.
“Of course not,” she assured him. “You know, Mr. Eckert, that that sort of thing doesn’t appeal to me—publicity and acting—and all that stuff. I’m happiest when I’m up in the skies with nobody else but my chum—Miss Crowley.”
“That is what I always thought,” he said. “So I must say I was somewhat disappointed in the news when I heard it.”
Linda smiled. Mr. Eckert had always understood her, and admired her—not as Ralph Clavering admired her, for her beauty and feminine charm,—but for her knowledge and skill as a flier.
“Then you might consider my proposition after all?” he inquired, hopefully.
“Yes, indeed. If you are willing to make it more or less temporary. I mean I could sign up for the duration of one course—say until next spring. The other offers I have had have all been so far away, that I’d rather accept yours, so that I could fly home every week-end. My aunt is practically alone, you see, for my father’s business is in New York.”
“That’s splendid, Linda!” he cried, and he proceeded to go into detail about the work that he wanted her to teach. Dot sat back in her chair, gazing out of the window, and vainly trying to suppress a yawn.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Eckert,” remarked Linda, when the former had finished his explanation, “that I may not be back in time to start when the school opens. Would you be willing to wait for me—till, say, the first of October? I ought to be here by then, though you never can tell.”
At these words Dot sat up and laughed.
“You surely can’t!” she agreed, heartily. “We have a habit of not showing up when we’re expected, Mr. Eckert—when Linda goes on her wild adventures.”
“Oh, but this is different,” put in Linda, sincerely believing that there were no wild adventures in store for her this time. “Hollywood isn’t like the Okefenokee Swamp. It’s the most civilized spot in the world.”
“But we haven’t promised to stay in Hollywood,” Dot reminded her.
“True,” admitted Linda.
Mr. Eckert rose.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Linda,” he said. “I’ll teach the class myself until the first of October. Then, if you can’t come, I’ll get another instructor. Is that all right with you?”
“Fine,” agreed the girl, delighted to have it all settled, and at a salary that was by no means small. For Linda Carlton was a drawing-card, and Mr. Eckert knew that her name would bring new students to the school, and add prestige to the fine faculty which they already had.
The last several days had been glorious weather—too good to last, Linda knew—for about the middle of September the fall rains usually set in. So she was not surprised to waken the following morning to find a dismal downpour, and what was worse, a bad wind. It was one of the equinoctial storms, so common at that time of the year.
Dot looked dismayed, but she had no idea that Linda would postpone the flight. For you couldn’t tell how long such a rain might last, and time was important.
She watched Linda get into her flying-suit, as if the mere matter of weather were nothing—all just part of the day’s work.
“Hurry up, Dot. If we are to make Kansas City by lunch time.”
“O.K.,” agreed the smaller girl, cheerfully.
They were back at the field by half-past seven, ready to start.
But the field was horribly muddy. Other planes had encountered severe difficulty in taking off, and the attendants looked doubtful.
“Looks as if you’re not going after all,” remarked Sam, stepping close to the Ladybug, as Linda started the rotor blades in motion. “It’s a beastly day.”
Linda smiled.
“My rotor blades are going to help me to rise,” she returned, gaily. “Just watch ’em!”
Two minutes later the autogiro left the rain-covered field, and soared into the murky skies. Almost immediately the ground and the landmarks became invisible to the girls in the cockpits, and the plane seemed to be wrapped in a great gray blanket of clouds and rain. The wind was blowing furiously, as if it were determined to get the better of the gallant Ladybug, but the rotor blades of the autogiro succeeded in keeping her on an even keel. But she rocked furiously, until Dot felt sure that she was going to be seasick.
Linda’s gas was growing a little low—plenty, she felt sure, to get to Kansas City—but not any to waste, so she was keeping low. But she could not see anything, and she was thinking that at times like these flying could even be monotonous, when, all of a sudden, as if in a hideous dream, she saw a nineteen-story building rushing madly at her. Not that she realized that it was exactly nineteen stories—indeed it looked taller than that at the moment. It was huge, too big to avoid, as it loomed there in her path, like some tremendous, horrible monster, shutting out everything else in her sight, waiting to annihilate her.
In the seat ahead Dot suddenly let out a sharp cry of terror, and Linda, realizing in a flash that she could not hope to clear the building now, pushed the joy-stick forward and nosed the plane into a dive. What was she heading for? A street, where she would dash down on top of pedestrians and motor-cars, killing others as well as herself and Dot?... But no, the speed was reducing; she was right over another office building—a shorter one, only about six stories in height—with—oh, joy of joys—a flat roof! As if she had planned it, she selected her spot, banked the autogiro to the left, cleared the wire fence around the edge, and landed right in the center of the roof! Making it look all the world as if she had planned a demonstration.
With a grin of incredulity she turned exultantly to Dot.
“Linda, you’re priceless!” shouted her chum. “Anybody’d think it was a stunt for the movies.”
Linda frowned, and Dot was sorry the instant the words were out of her mouth. She had forgotten all about the reason for the flight, in her excitement at this narrow escape.
At this moment half a dozen people appeared on the fire-escape, and a freckle-faced youth of about eighteen climbed immediately to the roof.
“Pretty neat!” he exclaimed. “Is it a stunt?”
“It was a life-saver,” explained Dot. “We nearly crashed on top of that big office building over there, and this one just loomed up in time.”
“Know what building this is?” asked the young man.
Linda shook her head.
“It’s a newspaper building! Biggest newspaper in Kansas City!”
“I never heard of a building made of newspapers,” returned Dot. “Funny we didn’t crash through!”
The young man grinned; his specialty was wise-cracks. “I’m a reporter,” he announced. “My slogan’s ‘First on the spot, to get news while it’s hot.’—so please give me your names and addresses.” He took out his notebook, prepared to write.
Linda looked displeased, but Dot was equal to the occasion.
“Sallie Slocum and May Manton, from Toonerville,” she replied, briskly. “Two society buds.”
The reporter solemnly wrote down the names.
“Toonerville—where—what state?” he asked.
“Toonerville, Trolley,” answered Dot, without blinking an eyelash.
This time the young man didn’t know whether to smile or not.
“You’re kidding me! That’s a name in Fontaine Fox’s cartoon.”
“Sure it is,” agreed Dot. “But it’s a place, just the same. Just write and ask Mr. Fox, if you want to know.”
Linda, meanwhile, had been examining her gas supply. It was sufficient to take them to the suburbs, where Ted and Louise lived, and she was anxious to be off.
“Come on, May,” she said to Dot, managing with a great effort to keep her face straight. “We’re off—if the young man will be kind enough to get out of the way.”
The reporter went back down the fire-escape, and Linda took off, but as the girls flew away they could distinguish faces peering at them from every window in sight. After all, they had afforded a pleasant diversion to a dull, work-a-day world, and Linda was thankful that it had all turned out so happily.
“And how clever of you to think of giving fictitious names, Dot,” she said, through the speaking-tube. “Now if it gets into the papers, Aunt Emily will never guess that it was my Ladybug. It might worry her dreadfully if she thought I was dropping out of the skies all the time on top of office buildings. She’s dreamt about my being pinned on a church steeple, dangling in mid-air.”
Fifteen minutes later, without further mishap, they landed at the Mackays’ field, and saw Louise waiting for them with an umbrella.
“Darlings!” she shouted, above the noise of the engine and the rotors, and dashed across the muddy field like the impulsive girl she had always been. “I’m just wild about this!”
Linda and Dot jumped out of the cockpits and hugged her joyfully.
“Now come on in and get warm and dry,” said Louise. “Pity we can’t take the Ladybug inside too. But Ted’ll look after her comfort when he gets home.”
“Does Ted get home for lunch?” asked Linda. “Oh, I hope he does, for I haven’t seen him in ages.”
“No, darling, he doesn’t. But he gets home for supper, and you two are going to stay all night.”
“We can’t, Lou—honestly—”
“There’s no use arguing. You just have to. Didn’t my Ted save your life a couple of times at least, Linda Carlton? Don’t you owe him a debt of gratitude?”
Linda laughed; there was no use arguing with Louise. After all, there was no great hurry—and it was bad weather for flying. One night more or less wouldn’t make much difference, she thought.
So the young people spent a pleasant afternoon and evening together, talking aviation, swapping stories and gossip, and laughing heartily over the newspaper story about their strange landing, which appeared on the front page that night. Little did they think at the time that Dot’s prank was to cause them serious trouble later!
“How do you go from here?” inquired Louise the next morning at breakfast, which had been arranged for seven o’clock so that the girls could make an early start. The skies were still dark, and it was raining, but the wind had died down, and with it the worst of the storm.
“From here to Wichita, and then on to Albuquerque by tonight, I hope,” replied Linda. “We’ll be following the regular air-line. I think that is really the safest and best way. By tomorrow night I expect to land at Los Angeles.”
“Do you have to cross Death Valley?” asked Louise.
“Fly over it—not cross it,” corrected Linda. “But that has no terrors for me. And we shall miss the worst of the Rockies, following such a southern course.”
“Take plenty of water and gas, in case you come down in the desert!”
“That reminds me, Ted,” said Linda, turning to the big, red-haired young man at the head of the table. “Did you fill my Ladybug up?”
“Yes, and gave her a hasty inspection, too,” he replied. “She looks O.K. to me.”
“Then I’m not expecting any trouble,” returned Linda, for she had great confidence in Ted Mackay’s judgment and knowledge of airplanes.
While Linda took time to call Miss Carlton on the long distance telephone, Louise insisted upon packing a lunch, and filling the thermos bottles with water and coffee. For she had never forgotten Linda’s first long flight when they had been stranded on a lonely prairie, far from food and civilization, and how grateful they had been then for the elaborate picnic lunch with which their hostess had supplied them.
“You’re a brick, Lou!” Linda cried, as she kissed her good-bye.
“Don’t forget to stop next week, on your way home!” Louise reminded her.
The Ladybug’s engine roared, and she taxied a short distance, soaring soon into the skies. To her joy Linda found that flying conditions had considerably improved since the previous day. The storm was clearing, and up above the clouds, the sun was shining. Linda’s way lay straight before her, and she flew on and on, keeping a sharp watch all the time for other planes, until the clouds beneath her had completely dispersed. Passing over Kansas, she left Wichita behind long before noon time, and pressed on through the northern part of Oklahoma—into Texas, the state in which her father’s ranch had been located, when she took that daring night-flight for the surgeon who saved his life. At last, by consulting her map, she felt certain she had reached New Mexico.
Both girls had been so thrilled in watching the country beneath them—so strangely different from the East—that they had not realized how late it was growing. Hunger finally drove Dot to consult her watch. To her surprise she found that it was after three o’clock.
“Let’s eat!” she said to Linda, through the tube. “I’m starved!”