"Hide it quickly, Dot!" whispered Linda. "In your pockets, your riding-breeches—stuff some of it in my clothes—while I re-fill these bags with sand.... And have your revolver ready."
Linda's theories regarding the fourth member of the gang of thieves had been only partially correct. As she had surmised, the "Doc" slipped off in the canoe from Black Jack Island while his companions slept, and he did stop at Soldiers' Camp. But it was not he who compelled Susie to go with him, but the girl herself who insisted upon accompanying him.
Susie's desire to reform had been sincere while Linda was with her. She had actually meant to cut free from the gang and go back to a normal mode of life—earning her living as she had done when she met her husband. No more sneaking about in fear of the law, no more hiding in that desolate camp in the Okefenokee Swamp! She would get a job at an airport, and take up flying again. She might even become famous—like Linda Carlton!
But unfortunately, after the famous aviatrixleft her alone, her enthusiasm faded, and her faith in her ability to make a "come-back" died as suddenly as it was born. How could she ever hope to be free from the stain of her last two years of living—since her marriage to "Slats"? If Linda did not turn her over to the police authorities, someone else would. She might have to serve five or ten years in prison.
As the afternoon passed, she grew more and more miserable, more anxious to get away. If only she had a boat! If her ankle were not so painful, and her bandaged head not so conspicuous! If there were only some way for her to escape!
Having no appetite, she made no pretense at preparing any supper for herself. There was still some cold tea left from lunch; she decided to make that her meal, and an hour later she fell asleep where she was, right on the shore of the island.
The sun was rising over the swamp when she awakened the following morning, and she sat up with difficulty, cramped by her uncomfortable position in sleep.
"I might as well be dead—with Slats," shethought, morbidly, as she viewed the desolation around her. Again she tried to rise, when the soft sound of a paddle, dipping into the quiet water attracted her attention. She waited breathlessly. Were the boys coming back so soon?
Not long afterward a canoe came into sight. Susie's heart leaped with joy when she recognized who was guiding it. The Doc!
"Doc!" she cried. "Bill Rickers!" she added, using the man's real name. "It's Susie!"
The man pulled up to the island, amazed at finding her there. In the dawning light he saw the autogiro, lying half on its side.
"Where's Slats?" he demanded.
"Dead," answered the girl, immediately. "We had a wreck.... Will you take me with you?" she begged. "I'm almost crazy here all by myself."
"I wanted to make a get-away alone," he muttered.
"You have the money!" she cried, jumping at once to the correct conclusion. "Where are the other two men?"
"Asleep at Black Jack Island."
"And where are you going?"
"Out of the swamp—across the state, and then over to our island. The yacht's due there tomorrow—I want to be ready to go with it."
"O.K. with me," agreed Susie, as if she had been invited to go. "Let's push off now—or wait—we'll eat some breakfast. There's beans and cold tea."
"Maybe you could be some use," remarked the man, as he ate the meager breakfast. "If we could get a plane. And I am sorry for you, Kid—all alone here with Slats dead."
Susie gave him no chance to change his mind. Hobbling out to the little "house" where the boys had put the blanket and the extra food, she picked up the former, smoothed her dress and her hair, and returned to announce herself ready. They pushed off again, following the little stream out of the swamp.
"How do you expect to get across the state?" asked the girl, wearily, when late that afternoon, they brought their canoe to a landing. She had slept a little in the boat, but she was still very tired.
"Hitch-hike, I reckon," was the reply. "If we go hirin' any cars, somebody might get suspicious. Once at the coast, I count on rentin' alittle fishing-boat from some fellow—one big enough to take us to the island."
"I can't hitch-hike," objected Susie.
"Don't then,—stay here," answered the man, indifferently.
"You know I can't do that, either. Let's go to that house over there, and see if we can't get some supper. Maybe they have an old Ford or a team of horses."
"You foot the bill?" he asked, shrewdly. With all that money in his possession, this man had no intention of spending any of it on anyone but himself.
Susie considered a moment. She hadn't any money at all—she always got what she wanted from her husband. But she owned some costly jewelry.
"I'll give you this diamond," she offered, "if you get me safe out of the country. And no walkin'!"
"O.K.," he muttered, his greedy eyes gleaming at the sight of the beautiful jewel. "You win. Go ask the woman yourself."
It was thus, by strange coincidence, that Susie and the Doc rode across Georgia that evening in the same Ford that had driven Linda and theboys to Jacksonville the night before. They reached a seaport town a little after midnight, and Susie succeeded in finding a house to stay in, though her companion preferred to remain out-doors, for he said he "didn't trust nobody." In the morning, when she joined him, he had rented an old motor-boat from a fisherman. "Rent" was the word he used, but he had not the slightest intention of returning it.
"You can run her, Susie," he said. "You're better at engines than I am, and she'll need coaxing. I'll steer."
It was a difficult cruise, for at times the engine coughed and died, and Susie had to try all sorts of methods to start her up again. When they finally came within sight of the island, the motor sputtered its last and refused to function any longer. The man managed to get the boat inshore by riding the waves, and using the oars kept at the bottom of the boat for just such an emergency.
About the time Linda Carlton and Dot Crowley were eating their lunch on Black Jack Island, Susie and the Doc were making their landing. They pulled in at the opposite shore from the one which the girls later used in theautogiro. The man's first concern was with the hiding-place where he expected to find the boxes of jewels. His disappointment was keen when he discovered that they had been taken away.
"The cops has found us out!" he snarled angrily at Susie, as if it were her fault. "They'll be back again—I'll bet you! We gotta get out of here!"
"How?" demanded Susie. "Not in that boat?"
"Nope. Maybe the yacht will be along early, but it ain't likely. It usually runs after dark."
Dumping his bags in the sand not far from the hole, he tried to think what would be best to do.
"We gotta act quick, Susie—if the cops come. No use tryin' to put up a fight—with only one gun, and them two bags to guard.... You watch on that other shore, and I'll go back to the one we came in on. Whatever they come in—airplane or boat—we gotta swipe. Hide if you see anything comin', give 'em a chance to get into the island—and grab their boat. Give me a signal——"
"How?" she interrupted.
"You take the gun, and shoot when you'reready to push off.... If I see anybody on my side, I'll whistle, as near like a bird as I can." He grinned to himself; if the police came in anything but an airplane, he wouldn't bother with Susie. Let her face the music!
"O.K. But I couldn't run, Doc. Don't forget that."
"I ain't forgettin'," he returned.
They separated, and for two hours waited tensely, keeping a sharp look-out for the rescuing yacht, hoping against hope that it would arrive before the police. But at three o'clock their worst fears were realized. Susie saw the autogiro coming towards them, and hobbled off into the depths of the island to conceal herself. Lying flat on the sand, she was not able to identify the people who got out of the plane, but she could see that they both wore riding-breeches, and she believed they were men. So she kept still until they had disappeared into the underbrush. Then she began to creep laboriously, in a round-about fashion, to the autogiro.
Susie's progress was slow; she did not reach the plane until after Linda and Dot had succeeded in emptying the bags of the money, and refilled them with sand. The girls had justrecognized the man on the shore, and were creeping farther into the island, out of sight of him, when the shot of the pistol rang out above the roar of the ocean. They had no way of knowing that Susie had fired it.
A moment later they heard the rustle and crackle of underbrush, as the man came towards them. From her hiding place, now some distance from the bags, Linda raised her head cautiously, and saw the thief retrieve the bags with a grab. Then he dashed back to the shore, circled the island on the harder sand, and reached the opposite shore, where the autogiro was standing.
"Why doesn't he come after us?" whispered Linda, in amazement.
"He will soon, I'm afraid," replied Dot hoarsely, clutching her revolver tightly. "But I'm going to shoot if he does!"
"So am I," answered Linda, calmly. "We've got the advantage—we're hidden."
Tensely they waited for five minutes—possibly ten; then something they had not thought of happened. The engine of the autogiro began to roar!
"They're stealing the Ladybug!" criedLinda, aghast at such a calamity. "Susie must be with him! Dot, we can't let them do that!"
Regardless of the danger, Linda jumped up excitedly, and rushed to a clearing, where she had a view of the shore. She was just in time to see her beloved autogiro taxi along the beach and rise into the air.
Dot dashed to her side, and the two girls stood together in helpless agony of spirit.
"Prisoners!" cried Dot, at last, dropping her useless revolver into the sand.
"Robinson Crusoes!" added Linda, bitterly. "No better off! No plane!"
"With thousands of dollars!" groaned her companion, ironically. "Where money is no good at all!"
The two girls continued to stand perfectly still on the sand, gazing at the retreating autogiro, which apparently was flying out farther over the ocean, and circling about in a strange manner.
"Why don't they fly towards the coast—towards Georgia?" demanded Dot, in bewilderment.
Linda took her spyglasses out of her pocket, and squinted through them at the plane.
"I see a boat!" she exclaimed. "It must be that yacht the gang had arrangements with—to pick up the stuff they steal.... Yes, and that's another island.... Look, Dot—see if I'm right."
The other girl took the glasses, and confirmed Linda's statement.
"Yes, it is.... And the Ladybug's landing on it.... Two people getting out—must beSusie and the Doc—and boarding the boat.... Linda! They're leaving the plane on the island!"
It was true indeed; taking turns at the glasses, the girls watched the yacht push off into the ocean.
"And here we are—and there's the Ladybug!" remarked Linda, grimly. "Just out of reach! The question is—how to get to her."
"Swim," suggested Dot.
"Maybe you could, Dot. But I'd be afraid of sharks."
"No, I don't think I'll try it either. Besides, the currents probably awfully strong."
"Oh, if Jackson and Hal would only rescue us now!" lamented Linda. "I wouldn't treat them a bit coolly."
The truth of that situation flashed upon Dot.
"Was it Jackson Carter who rescued you before, Linda?" she asked.
Linda blushed. "Yes—it was," she admitted.
"Then why did you treat him so cruelly? I should think you would have been everlastingly grateful."
"I was. Till his mother snubbed me—and he even doubted that I was a nice girl, just becauseI was traveling about alone. Then, when you introduced me, he wanted to be friends. Naturally I was hurt."
"I don't blame you! But Mrs. Carter is terribly old-fashioned."
While they were talking they had been slowly advancing towards the beach. Suddenly Linda spied a pile of articles near the spot where the autogiro had taken off.
"Look, Dot!" she cried. "There's our stuff on the shore! The basket! My over-night bag—and I guess that other box is my tool kit, that I always keep in the plane! Come on!"
Breathlessly they dashed down to the shore and found that their belongings had indeed been tossed out of the autogiro.
"This proves that Susie's our friend!" cried Linda, hopefully. "She must have done this."
"Fine friend—to steal the plane!" returned Dot. "She didn't have to go with that man!"
"Maybe not.... I'm afraid I can't understand her," mourned Linda. "Half good, and half bad——"
"Don't worry about Susie," urged her companion. "We have enough to think about forourselves.... Still, it is nice that we eat tonight. Aren't we lucky to have that food?"
Dot's forced cheerfulness brought their wretched plight back to Linda. How selfish she had been, to drag this other girl into this wretched business, when she came South to enjoy a holiday!
"Oh, Dot!" she wailed, "I can't tell you how sorry I am—about bringing you in on this! I had no right to let you come. Your mother will never forgive me. It was different with Lou. When she set out on those wild adventures with me, her parents knew what to expect."
"Cheer up, we're not dead yet," was the reassuring reply. "Things aren't so black. Our enemy is safely out of the country, I take it, and Captain Magee is sure to look us up soon, when he doesn't hear from us. Besides, a friendly boat may come along at any minute."
"Dot, you're one girl in a thousand!" cried Linda, giving her chum a hug. "You're just an old peach, not to be complaining. And for my own sake, I'm so thankful you're with me! Just imagine how I'd feel all alone!"
"Well, let's enjoy ourselves while the foodlasts. Let's carry it inshore farther, and find a camping place. You have matches in your pocket?"
"Always!" replied Linda, thinking of her experience in Canada, when she had lost her matches with her plane. "I keep my pockets as full as a man's now, so if I am separated from my plane, I'm not helpless."
"Wise girl! You're learning, Linda. In a year or two you can do exploring, like Byrd—if there are any places left to explore."
"I guess Aunt Emily will make me sit home with folded hands after this," remarked Linda, soberly. "If we aren't rescued soon, it will be bound to get into the newspapers."
She stooped over and opened her tool-box, in which she carried all sorts of things besides actual tools. A flash-light, a knife, wire and string, even nails and nuts. And down in the corner she found several cans of food, which she thought the bandits had taken out when they emptied the plane of its gas that first day in the swamp.
"This is going to be a big help," she said. "We might even build a boat——"
"Out of underbrush?" asked Dot, sarcastically."Why, there isn't a decent tree on the whole island."
"I'm afraid you're right," sighed Linda. "Well, come on—let's get farther in, and take this money out of our clothing. Money can be a nuisance sometimes," she added, jokingly.
They picked up their possessions, Linda taking the tool-box, and Dot the bag and basket of food, and hunted the shadiest spot they could find for their camp. Then they set about diligently unloading the money, and stuffing it into the over-night bag, which they first emptied of its contents.
"Let's see what we have to keep us alive," suggested Dot, peering into the basket. "Three quarters of a chicken, ten oranges, almost a whole cake, four bananas, and eight rolls, besides that stuff you found. And one thermos bottle full of water—and another half full."
"It's the lack of water that's going to make it hardest," observed Linda. "If only the ocean weren't salty."
"Well, maybe we shan't even need all this! If we rig up some kind of signal of distress——"
"What shall we use? Clothing?"
"We might take hundred dollar bills," laughed Dot. "They're the most worthless things we have now."
"True. Only think how glad the people will be to get them back. Mrs. Carter, for instance.... I have it!" exclaimed Linda, brightly. "Our pajamas! Lucky we put them into the bag! We won't need them in the day-time, and no boat could see a signal at night anyway."
"Good idea!" approved her chum. "Now let's leave all this stuff here, and explore the island. We might find something—and anyhow, it will give us something to do."
Arm in arm they returned to the beach, where the sand was harder, and began to circle the island. They had gone half way around—to the opposite shore—when they both spied the old motor boat at the same moment. So great was their joy that they jumped up and down, hugging each other wildly.
"Of course that's what the man came in!" cried Linda. "We might have known he and Susie couldn't swim the ocean!"
They started to race to the boat, and arrived together. Dot immediately set about examiningit for leaks, while Linda gave her attention to the engine.
"It's broken," she said. "But I'm sure I can fix it. You know how I love to take motors apart. Just give me a day——"
"Darling, you can have a week if you want!" agreed Dot, wild with happiness and relief. "We can make our food last."
"A day or maybe two ought to be enough. Then we can get to that other island and retrieve the Ladybug, before anybody even misses us!"
"It seems to be pretty sound," said Dot. "No leaks, or anything. And there are even a couple of oars in the bottom, if the engine won't go."
"Oars wouldn't take us far, with such a heavy boat. But I'm sure I can fix the motor, and there's a can of gasoline here, besides what's in the tank.... But I don't believe I better start now—I'd just get it apart, and the daylight would be gone. I'll get up early tomorrow...."
"Suits me," agreed the other. "Now let's go back to our camp and fix some supper."
Both girls felt exceedingly cheerful as theycollected sticks and lighted a fire. From one of Linda's cans they took out tea, but the rest they left unopened. The beans and jam and biscuits would keep until after the picnic food was gone.
"I have a bright idea," remarked Dot, as she ate a leg of chicken. "Why couldn't we make chicken soup, out of the bones and sea-water? You have to put salt in it anyway, don't you?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid it would be too salty. It would make us so thirsty we'd want to drink all our water at once.... Still, we might try. We wouldn't be wasting anything."
"Too bad we haven't sore throats," said Dot, still in a mood for joking.
"Sore throats!" repeated Linda, in amazement. "What's the connection between chicken soup and sore throats?"
"Nothing—I was only trying to think up ways to use salt water. We always have to gargle with salt water, at home, when we have sore throats. Doesn't your Aunt Emily make you do that?"
Her companion laughed. "No, we always use Listerine. But it's an idea. Think up some more, Dot—we'll get some uses for it yet!"
They drank very sparingly of the water in the thermos bottle—one cup apiece—and decided to limit themselves to that at each meal. Sometimes they would substitute oranges—how thankful they were that they had brought so many!
Their light-hardheartedness diminished as the sun went down and darkness settled over the island. The loneliness of the night, the solemn roar of the ocean, the isolation of the island, appalled them. Not a human being except themselves—not a human sound!
But they had each other, and this comfort was so overwhelming to Linda, that it shut out all her other troubles. She could not help exulting every few minutes over the joy of having a companion, and Dot was thankful that she was there, so long as Linda had to meet with such a fate. Yes, surely, they would make the best of things.
They slept well that night, for the sand, covered with leaves the girls had plucked, made a soft bed. A breeze from the ocean was so cooling that Linda had to pull their slickers over them as a covering. The stars shone in afriendly sky; hand in hand, as Linda and Lou had so often slept, the two girls dropped off into unconsciousness.
Their first thought upon awakening, after remembering where they were, was the autogiro. Their second was the motor-boat. They could not eat any breakfast until they had made sure that both of these were still safe.
"That island doesn't look very far away, does it?" Dot remarked, after they had satisfied themselves upon these two questions.
"No, it doesn't," agreed Linda, taking out her spyglasses. "Only, you can't tell by appearances—they're so deceiving on the ocean."
They went back to their camp and breakfasted on oranges and rolls, finishing off with chocolate cake.
"Because we might as well enjoy it while it is fresh," Dot said laughingly. Neither girl ever had to worry about indigestion.
All day long Linda worked on the engine, with her companion at her side, watching her in admiration. All that day and the next. On the evening of the twenty-ninth of June she announced that she was finished. The engine was condescending to run!
"Tomorrow we get the Ladybug!" Linda announced, exultantly. "And get back to Jacksonville in time to keep our engagements for July first!"
They were very happy as they sat beside their camp fire that night, eating their supper of baked beans and crackers and oranges. Happy and light-hearted, never thinking to glance at the sky, and to guess the meaning of the dark clouds that were gathering. Had they only done so, they might have gone to the autogiro that night in their repaired motor-boat—and saved their relatives and friends all the anguish and anxiety that they were to experience during the coming days.
But neither Linda nor Dot gave the weather a thought; they went to sleep that night in the joyful expectation of returning to Jacksonville the following day.
At dawn the storm came, pouring down upon them in torrents, arousing the ocean to terrifying waves, shutting out the sight of the island where the autogiro was waiting—imprisoning the girls once more in their desolate loneliness. And now practically all of their food was gone!
When Linda Carlton and Dorothy Crowley left Jacksonville Airport on the morning of June twenty-seventh in the Ladybug, and flew into the Okefenokee Swamp, they fully expected to telephone to their families that night, or at least to send a wire to them, as they had promised. So when Miss Emily Carlton heard nothing from her niece she became anxious, and directed her chauffeur to drive her to Mrs. Crowley's cottage.
Both women were established at Green Falls for the summer, which was the favorite resort of all Linda's friends from Spring City. It was there that the girl had called her aunt from Jacksonville, the night that Dot and the Mackays had arrived. Only one telegram had she received since that time.
Mrs. Crowley, who was less inclined to be nervous than Miss Carlton, tried to reassure thelatter, saying that she realized how busy the girls would be. But when June twenty-eighth passed without any word from them, she too became alarmed, and together the two women put in a long distance call to Captain Magee at Jacksonville.
Briefly he told them what he knew—of Linda's decision to go "scouting," as she called it. And of her request for the revolvers.
The shock of that piece of news was almost too much for Miss Carlton. She jumped to the conclusion that the girls were dead.
"Aren't you doing a thing to find them, Captain?" she demanded, harshly.
"I was thinking about it," he replied. "But after all, they've only been gone two days——"
"You don't know my niece!" interrupted the unhappy woman. "Linda always wires or telephones me every day, when she goes on these flying trips. She doesn't forget. It's because she can't—she has been injured or killed!"
"I hope not," he replied. "But I will send a plane over the Okefenokee Swamp tomorrow, Miss Carlton," he promised.
The two women gazed at each other in helpless dismay at the conclusion of this conversation.What could they possibly do, aside from informing the newspapers—a decision which they carried out immediately.
Accordingly, on June twenty-ninth, every newspaper in the country stated the fact that Linda Carlton, the famous aviatrix who had flown to Paris alone, was missing again—somewhere in Georgia—probably in the Okefenokee Swamp, with a chum, Miss Dorothy Crowley of Spring City, who was also a pilot.
The unhappy news instantly produced the effect which Miss Carlton hoped it would accomplish. It aroused no fewer than five searching parties, all bent upon locating these two popular girls.
Captain Magee's men were the first to go. Summoning Sergeant Worth, he commandeered a plane from the airport, and directed the pilot to fly over the swamp, searching from the air by means of spyglasses.
The second party was composed of the girls' fathers, both of whom were in New York City at the time. Mr. Crowley telephoned Mr. Carlton, and after sending a wire to their families, they boarded a Florida train together.
The third volunteers were two young menat Green Falls, two college boys who considered Linda and Dot their special girl-friends, though neither of them was engaged, Jim Valier and Ralph Clavering heard the sad news at the out-door pool at Green Falls, just as they were about to join a group of young people for a swim. Kitty Hulbert, Ralph's married sister, read the head-lines aloud.
"Jim," muttered Ralph, when Kitty finished, "let's do something! We can take a plane to Florida—and go on a search from there."
"O.K.," agreed the other boy, and quietly and quickly the two young men disappeared from the group.
The story came to the Mackays in Washington, where Ted had business on his return from Georgia. The instant that Louise read it, she jumped up in excitement.
"We must go, Ted!" she cried. "You can get your vacation now."
"I'll wire immediately," he agreed, without an instant's hesitation, and he went out to make the necessary arrangements and to order his plane in readiness.
The fifth and last party was none other than Linda's two latest admirers, the two youngmen she had mentioned to Dot in the hope of a rescue—Jackson Carter and Hal Perry.
All in all, it ought to have been enough to satisfy Miss Carlton that every effort was being made to find the girls and to bring them back to safety.
The airplane from the police department was the first of these groups to get into action, the first to enter the swamp. Yet it did not actually enter it, but merely flew above it, for the pilot, less experienced than Linda herself, did not believe it possible to come down on one of those islands. For hours, however, he circled about, over the bog, and the cypress-trees, while Sergeant Worth in the rear cock-pit scanned the landscape with his spyglasses. But neither man saw any trace of the autogiro or the girls, and late that afternoon they had to return in discouragement to Captain Magee.
"I couldn't even locate that camp on the island," Worth said. "The one where we got the prisoners, you know. Unless you have the exact directions, it's hard to find anything in that swamp.... And—I don't see much use in trying again."
Captain Magee looked exceedingly grave; hewas genuinely worried. He blamed himself for letting the girls go alone. But there had been nothing official about the project—he had not really expected that they would run into the criminal. Besides, Linda Carlton had seemed so capable, and both girls were so eager to go.
"We mustn't give up, Worth," he said quietly. "It's more important to find these girls than a dozen criminals. We owe it to them, to their families—to the whole country. Everybody has admiration and affection for Miss Linda Carlton, after all she has done.... You'll have to go back tomorrow—or get another man, if you feel too discouraged."
"No, I'm only too glad to help," the other assured him. "I would do anything in the world for Miss Carlton. But I don't see how it can do any good. A scouting party in boats would be much more likely to be successful."
"We'll try that, too, as soon as I can get some men together. But tomorrow you fly out over the ocean to that island where the thieves had the jewels. The girls might be stranded there. Take another pilot, and a bigger plane."
Worth looked doubtful.
"We haven't any way of locating that island,either," he said. "It was Miss Carlton who took us there before, and I have no idea where it is."
"Just do your best, Worth," urged the Captain. "Fly around all the islands near the Georgia coast, keeping a sharp look-out for the autogiro."
"Rain or shine? It looks like a storm tomorrow."
"Yes, whatever the weather, you must go—or get someone else."
So, in spite of the terrible downpour and the high winds of June thirtieth, a cabin monoplane flew across Georgia and out over the ocean to a group of islands just off the coast. Three men were aboard—two experienced pilots, one of whom was also a mechanic—besides the police officer.
Leaving the coast behind, they flew out into the grayness that was ocean and sky. The waves were high, the sea rough and angry, and the rain was coming down in sheets, blinding their vision, but they pressed on, two of the men keeping their spyglasses on the water, watching for islands. They passed over several, but they were small, with little or no place to land.Eagerly the men watched for some sign of human life, some signal, some glimpse of the autogiro.
"They'd never be alive if we did find them," remarked Worth, gloomily. "And if they did run into that gangster, he'd surely have made away with them."
"If only it would clear up," grumbled the pilot. "So we could see something!"
They were flying much lower now, for it was comparatively safe over the water, and despite the weather, they were able to spot the islands. All of a sudden the mechanic uttered a sharp cry.
"There she is! Look! Over there!"
"Miss Carlton?" demanded Worth, excitedly. "Where?"
"Not the girl! The plane—the autogiro! See—that island to the west! See the wind-mill on top?"
"By George! You're right!" agreed Worth, a thrill running up and down his spine. Thank Heaven, he hadn't given up!
The pilot directed the plane over the island and circled about, landing finally some distance from the autogiro. A glance at the latter assuredthem that it had not been wrecked. Why, then, hadn't the girls come back? Was it possible that all this scare had risen to alarm the world for the simple reason that Linda Carlton had run out of gas?
The three men climbed out of the cabin and shouted as loud as they could, since the girls had evidently failed to hear their plane, above the noise of the storm and the roar of the ocean. Eagerly they waited for a reply. But when none came, fear crept over them all.
Had the girls died of starvation, or was there foul play of some kind? With gloomy forebodings, they walked about the beach, seeking evidence of some kind to tell the story of what had happened.
Finding nothing, the mechanic began to examine the autogiro. She was undamaged, unhurt—everything in order, gasoline in the tank. The engine started easily in answer to his test, and ran smoothly until he turned it off. No, the gallant little Ladybug could not be blamed for whatever disaster had taken place!
Then, forgetful of the weather, the three men set out to search the island thoroughly. Buckled in oil-skin coats, they felt protected themselves,but Worth shuddered as he thought of these girls alone in such desolation, with no roof to cover them, no food to satisfy their hunger, or water for their thirst. Gloomy and discouraged they plowed through the wet sand, calling the girls' names. Finally, abandoning the hope of finding them alive, they set themselves to the gruesome task of looking among the underbrush for their bodies. At last they gave up.
"We'll fasten a canvas sheet over these bushes, so that we can locate the island, and we'll pin a note on it to say that we'll be back," decided Worth, "in case they are alive. One of you men take the autogiro, and the other the plane, and we'll go back now."
The rain was abating somewhat, and the two planes made the return trip without any mishaps, arriving at the Jacksonville Airport before dark that evening.
A wildly enthusiastic crowd, which had collected in spite of the weather, greeted them with resounding cheers. The Ladybug was back again—safe and sound! Women cried with joy, men threw their hats into the air, children clapped their hands and whistled. In a miniature way it was a demonstration like the onegiven Lindbergh upon his arrival at the French Flying Field. But it was a false rejoicing, and the gayety was quickly changed into despair when the pilot reported that the girls themselves had not been found.
Weary and disappointed, the crowd turned away, and Sergeant Worth told the sad story to the newspaper reporters who waited to interview him, before he returned to the police headquarters.
Captain Magee was terribly affected by the news. Linda Carlton might have been his own daughter, from the grief which he could not conceal.
Two well-dressed young men were waiting in his office when Worth arrived, and they listened to the grim account. They were the first of the rescue parties to arrive from the North—Jim Valier and Ralph Clavering.
"These two young men are friends of Miss Carlton and Miss Crowley," explained the Captain. "They want to go into the swamp tomorrow in a boat.... Perhaps the girls have reached the main-land, or perhaps that autogiro was stolen, and they never were on the islandat all.... Anyhow, we'll search the swamp again. Will you go with them, Worth?"
"Certainly," agreed the sergeant, though he felt as if it would be fruitless. Those girls were at the bottom of the ocean, he was sure!
"A light motor-boat ought to be able to go up that little stream," continued the Captain. "I will have one ready at the edge of the swamp tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. If you young men will come here at nine, I'll send you over there in a car."
Jim and Ralph expressed their thanks to the officer, and promised to be on hand at the arranged time in the morning. But, like Sergeant Worth, they were exceedingly discouraged; they had little hope of success.
When they awakened the following morning, which was the first day of July—the day that Linda should have reported to Atlanta—they found that it was still raining, although the storm had ceased, giving way to a dismal drizzle. What an unpleasant day to start off on an excursion like theirs, that was gloomy at best! Yet the weather did not deter them from their purpose, nor did it stop Hal Perry and Jacksonwho started earlier that morning in their canoe.
But it was difficult with a motor-boat, and all three of the men were unfamiliar with the swamp and its little streams. No one knew where to turn off, as Jackson and Hal had learned from many vacations, and after pushing ahead for two or three hours, they found themselves off their course—grounded.
"It's no use," muttered Worth. "We can't make it in a motor-boat. Magee's never been in the swamp, or he would have known. We'll have to turn back and get a canoe!"
"A whole day wasted!" growled Ralph angrily, as if it were the sergeants fault. "A day! When every minute is precious!"
"Well, it's nobody's fault," remarked Worth. "The sooner we get back the better."
"Nobody's fault!" repeated Ralph. "No—ignorance is O.K.—if it pertains to the police! They shouldn't know a thing about the country around them!"
"No use getting mad at policemen, Ralph," drawled good-natured Jim Valier. "Haven't you learned from driving a car that it doesn't pay? Besides, they're always right."
"No, we're often very wrong," said Worth,humbly and seriously. "And maybe you don't think I care, Mr. Clavering, about finding those girls. But I do! I haven't thought about a thing but that for the last three days."
Ralph made no answer, but applied his attention to searching the landscape with his glasses. But, like everybody else thus far, he found nothing.
Discouraged and silent, they managed to push the boat into the deeper water and to turn it around. All that afternoon they spent in retracing the progress they had made, and returned to the Captain's office just before supper.
"You want to try it again in canoes?" asked Captain Magee.
"Yes," replied Ralph. "Without any of your police this time. No use taking an extra man—it only means more provisions to carry."
"True. But you must be careful of snakes and alligators."
The boys looked none too pleased at the idea, but when they remembered that Linda and Dot, if still alive, would be subjected to the same perils, they were all the more eager to go.
This time, they decided, they would do itscientifically; they would go prepared with a map of the swamp, equipment, food, and rifles. And above all, a compass! And they would not give up until they had searched every part of that dismal Okefenokee Swamp!
So, cheered by the optimism of youth and the promise of another day, the boys slept well that night.
The same morning upon which Ralph Clavering and Jim Valier went into the Okefenokee Swamp in a canoe, the fourth searching party arrived. Delayed by a stop-over in Norfolk, Virginia, where Ted had some business for the company, he and Louise did not reach the Jacksonville Airport until the morning of July second. Leaving the plane at the field, they taxied immediately to the City Hall, arriving there a little after ten.
They did not expect any good news about the missing girls, for they had read the papers and had inquired the latest word at the airport. They had gazed at the Ladybug, so forlorn and desolate in the hangar, and their fears were dark. Even Louise, who was usually optimistic, believed this time it was the end. Yet how dreadful it was! That Linda Carlton, so young, with such a glorious future before her,should perish like this before she was twenty! When she had the whole world at her feet—a world she had won not through mere beauty and charm—although she was both beautiful and charming, but through her courage, her ability, her modesty! Louise made no attempt to hide the tears that rolled down her cheeks; even her husband's strong arm about her shoulders could not stop her sobs.
"Don't give up yet, dear!" he urged. "Why, you and I haven't even had our try."
The girl smiled bravely through her tears.
"I know, Ted dear. I'll try to remember." Her eyes brightened with genuine hope. "It always has beenyouwho have rescued her! Maybe you will this time."
"We're going to make a bigger effort than ever before," he reassured her. "Because this time I have you to help me."
The minute they entered the City Hall they saw that something had happened. Louise's heart gave a wild leap of excitement. Were Linda and Dot safe?
But no. If they were, somebody would be shouting the news from the house-tops—andno one was looking particularity jubilant. There was a crowd outside, but it was not an exulting one. Was it possible that they had found the girls—dead? In spite of the heat of the day, a cold shiver of horror crept over Louise, and she clung tightly to her husband's arm.
They had little difficulty in passing through the crowd to the captain's office, for the latter had given orders to his men that Miss Carlton's and Miss Crowley's friends and relatives were to be admitted immediately, whenever they appeared.
As they entered the room, they saw half a dozen officials standing around, several in plain clothes, with only badges to identify them. And on a chair by the desk, opposite Captain Magee, a strange young woman was sitting.
The girl was flashily dressed—or over-dressed—in the latest style. A long green gown trailed almost to the floor, not quite concealing a bandaged ankle. Her little, off-the-face hat of the same bright color was decorated with a diamond bar-pin. Her lips and her cheeks were painted, and there was a gap in her mouth where two front teeth had been knocked out.
The Captain nodded to the Mackays to sit down, and he continued the questions he was putting to this young woman.
"You might as well confess if you know where that man is—with all the bank's money!" he was saying. "I know your scheme. Pretending you don't know where he escaped, so that you won't be locked up, and can get back to him!" His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his voice to an uncanny whisper. "But we'll keep you here till you tell where that thief is!"
"I can't tell you—when I don't know!" she persisted. "He ran off from me—he never wanted me with him anyway. I'll swear to it, Sir, if you think I'm lyin'.... Besides, he hasn't got that money."
"Then where is it?"
"Linda—and the cops she had with her—tricked us, double-crossed us, by swiping the money and fillin' the bags with sand. The Doc was in such a Hurry to get away from those cops, he never found it out till we were on that yacht. He was afraid to go back."
Captain Magee leaned forward eagerly at the mention of Linda Carlton's name. She was farmore important than the money that had been stolen.
"Miss Carlton?" he demanded. "With the police? Where did you see her?"
Susie shook her head.
"No, I didn't actually see her. But I saw her Bug, with her stuff in it—a bag and a basket of food. I tossed them out of the plane, too, so she wouldn't starve when we swiped the plane. You can put that down to my credit."
"You stole the autogiro?"
"No. Only borrowed it. Left it on an island—you can get it when you want it."
"We have it.... Now, suppose instead of my asking you questions, you tell us the whole story, Miss——?"
"Mrs.Slider, if you please," she said. "I am a widow." She lowered her eyes dramatically, enjoying the sensation of holding the center of the stage.
"Well," she began, "after my husband got killed in the plane accident that Linda probably told you about, she and I got to be quite good friends. I even promised to leave the gang and go straight, for I never really took part in any of their stealing myself—believe it or not!Linda left me on that island in the swamp, and promised to come back for me when she came for the Bug."
"But you weren't there when Miss Carlton returned!" Captain Magee reminded her.
"No. I got terrible lonesome. If you ever spend a night in the swamp with only a dead man for company—oh, he was buried all right, but it was spooky just the same—you'd excuse me for takin' the first way out, Sir. The Doc come along, in his canoe, and I promised him my diamond ring if he'd take me away.... Well, we got out of the swamp in his boat, and hired a Ford across Georgia. Then we took a motor-boat out to that island in the ocean."
Everyone waited breathlessly; at last the girl was coming to the part they all longed to hear about—the part of the story in which Linda Carlton figured. Pausing dramatically, Susie asked for a glass of water.
"Go on!" urged the captain, as soon as she had drained it.
"It was a terrible boat," she finally continued. "An awful old one. You can imagine going ten miles out to sea in a thing like that! The engine gave out——"
"Never mind all that!" commanded the officer, impatiently. "Come to the point."
"Yes, Sir.... Well, we got to the island finally, and waited for the yacht that was to pick us up and take us to Panama, but before she come along, the autogiro arrived. Linda—and the police, of course."
"Did you see them—the police, I mean?" was the next question.
"No, we didn't. We were too scared, so we hid till they got out of the plane and searched the island. Then we grabbed the bags and ran for the plane. I flew the Bug out to sea, and in a few minutes we spotted our yacht, and signaled it to stop on another island. That's where we left Linda's plane.... When we got to Panama, the Doc slipped off, and I got caught.... So you see there's nothing to punishmefor—you got the autogiro back, and the cops, or Linda, took the money——"
"There were no policemen with Miss Carlton," Captain Magee informed Susie. "Only another girl. But they are lost."
"They must be still on that island, waiting for you to come for them. Nothing could hurt them, and they had some food...."
This was enough for Ted Mackay. Jumping to his feet, he announced his intention of flying there immediately.
"Give me the latitude and longitude of that island!" he demanded. "There isn't a moment to lose!"
"The what?" asked Susie, wrinkling her nose.
"Show me where it is on a map," explained Ted.
"Yeah," agreed Susie, pointing out the island on a map of the Georgia coast, which the Captain took from his desk. "But what's the grand rush?"
"You've forgotten the storm we just had!" said the young man. "The girls may be sick or dead by this time."
"Girls," repeated Susie, significantly. "It beats everything the way they fooled us—in their riding-breeches! If the Doc ever finds out he ran away from a pair of girls——"
"Never mind all that, Mrs. Slider," interrupted Captain Magee, signaling to the prison matron to take the girl away.... "Now, Mr. Mackay, is there anything I can do for you, before you go?"
"You might get me a taxi," replied Ted. "To take my wife and myself to the airport."
"Take my private car," offered the Captain, rising to say good-by. "And good luck to you!"
Louise was so excited at the whole occurrence that she could scarcely sit still in the limousine, as it sped over to the airport.
"If we only aren't too late! Ted, do you suppose they're starved? What does it feel like to starve to death? Or to die of thirst?"
"I wouldn't worry too much about thirst," he reassured her. "Because of that big rain we had. They could get water from it, you know."
"I never thought of that!"
"The worst is over now, I'm sure," continued Ted. "Five days isn't so long, and the girl said they had food. Besides, it wasn't cold. Think of that time you girls were lost in Canada!"
Louise shuddered; she could still remember that long, hopeless night very vividly, when she and Linda had jumped from parachutes down into the snow of the Canadian Woods, and how they had been forced to keep walking to avoid freezing to death.
"Still, we found a shack to sleep in. And Linda and Dot haven't even a blanket to cover them in all that storm!"
"Well, they were together, that's one thing to be thankful for."
"Yes—and I'm glad Linda's companion is Dot. Of all our crowd at Spring City, Dot Crowley is the nicest girl—after Linda, of course. Most of the girls, like Kitty Clavering—Kitty Hulbert, I mean—or Sue Emery, would be pitying themselves so that they'd make Linda miserable. But not Dot. She always sees the bright side of everything."
"And wasn't it clever the way they got hold of that money, and fooled that bandit!" exulted Ted. "My, but that was slick. And think what it's going to mean to that bank and its depositors! Because if that fellow hadn't been fooled, he'd have made off with it. I don't believe they'll ever find him now."
"I guess nobody will care if he never comes back to the United States!" agreed Louise.
They arrived at the airport and found the plane in readiness, wheeled out on the runway, and Ted took time to give it an inspection himself, while Louise ran off to get the necessarysupplies—some food and water, and a first-aid kit, as a necessary precaution. She borrowed sweaters and knickers from the supply at the airport, for she reasoned that Linda and Dot would be chilled and drenched from the rain. Dry clothing ought to be a god-send, even if they used it only on the short trip back in the plane.
Inside of an hour they took off. It was still drizzling, but Ted was such an experienced navigator that he had no difficulty at all in flying in any kind of weather, and he found the island from Susie's directions. Shortly after noon, he brought it down on the beach.
A feeling of apprehension stole over Louise, when she saw neither of the girls on the shore to greet them. In spite of the noise of ocean, surely they would have heard the plane! Why weren't they there?
Ted turned off the motor, and looked about expectantly.
"Do you suppose they're both sick—or injured?" faltered Louise. She did not add, "or dead," but she could not help thinking it.
"Maybe they didn't hear us. Let's shout together—'Linda and Dot!' If they hear theirfirst names, they'll know we're friends, maybe recognize our voices. You see they may be hiding—for fear it's that gangster returning."
"I never thought of that," replied Louise, more hopefully. "All right—both together when I count three.
"One—two—three!"
"LINDA AND DOT!"
Their voices rose clearly over the splashing of the waves, and they waited tensely.
But there was no reply!
They waited, and tried again.... Still silence.... Louise put out her hand, and grasped her husband's, in fear.
"What does it mean?" she cried, in anguish. "Is this surely the right island? There seemed to be a lot of them."
"Maybe it isn't" he answered, optimistically. "That girl seemed to be telling the truth—but she was a queer one. Besides, she might not be sure which island it was.... Anyway, we'll search. If Linda and Dot were here, we'll see some evidences of their camp—burnt out fires, or worn paths, or something. Come on, let's start!"
Arm in arm they began their search, steppingcarefully through the underbrush, now and then stopping to call, "Linda" or "Dot," in the hope that the girls might only have been asleep. They did not have to go far before they saw that at least someone had been here recently, for there was a path worn through the underbrush.
Farther and farther in they went, until they came to a small cluster of pine trees. And here, sure enough, they found the remains, or rather the ashes, for the place had been left neat, of a camp fire.
The sight of this forsaken spot brought sudden tears to Louise's eyes.
"They've been dragged off and killed! I just know it!" she moaned.
"Don't cry, please, dear," begged Ted. "We're not sure yet. This may not be their island—their fire. Somebody else may have camped here. Let's look about a bit."
Slowly they walked around the place, examining the ground for some forgotten belonging that would identify the former campers. Noticing a pile of leaves where someone had evidently made a bed, Louise kicked them aside with her foot, and she saw an empty matchbox.It wasn't much, but it was something, and she leaned over and picked it up.
The letters on the lid leaped out at her like living tongues. Marked with a purple rubber-stamp over the trade-mark, were the words:
"J. Vetter, Spring City, Ohio."
The explanation was only too plain. No one but Dot and Linda could have used that box. Louise dropped to the ground in an agony of wretchedness, and buried her face in her hands.
Even the optimistic Ted found all his hopes blasted by this little box. Gloom spread over his features, and he sat down beside his wife, comforting her as best he could.
For fifteen minutes, perhaps, they remained motionless, overcome by the thought of their friends' awful death. The food which they had brought with the idea of sharing a gay picnic lunch with Dot and Linda was forgotten. Though they had not eaten since breakfast, neither Ted nor Louise could have swallowed a mouthful.
At last Ted got up, gently raising Louise to her feet. Each silently decided to make one more search—a gruesome one this time—for the girls' bodies.
Round and round the island they walked,looking carefully, among the underbrush, near to the beach, even scanning the water with their spyglasses. But they saw nothing. That one matchbox had been their only evidence. Like good campers to the end, Linda and Dot had burned every trace of rubbish.
It was mid-afternoon when Ted realized that Louise was faint from hunger and thirst, and he made her sit down while he brought some supplies from the plane. She drank the water eagerly, but she could not eat. For Louise Mackay was going through the deepest tragedy of her young life: her first experience with the loss of a loved one.
During the entire flight homeward she kept her hand on Ted's knee, but she did not utter a word.