Linda and Louise went up to their room at the hotel naturally supposing that their presence was unknown to Bess Hulbert.
It happened, however, that she was to hear about them at the desk.
When Bess left her brother in the lobby, she went straight to the clerk and asked for her key. It was a fine day, promising a fine night; she decided to leave for New York as soon as she had packed her bag. But the information caused her to change her mind.
"Do you happen to know the young lady flyers, Miss Smith?" inquired the clerk, for Bess had registered as "Anna Smith" at the hotel.
"What young ladies?" she asked, carelessly.
"Two girls who just flew in from New York. Mighty attractive ones, too!" He examined the register. "Linda Carlton and Louise Haydock."
"Hm!" mumbled Bess, wonderingly. What could have brought them uphere to Plattsburg?
"I've heard of them," she replied. "How long are they staying?"
"Just over night. Going over to Montreal in the morning, I believe."
Bess was silent a moment, thinking rapidly.
"I guess I'll stay here over night, after all," she concluded. "Night flying isn't so good, if you don't have to do it."
"Wise young lady!" observed the clerk. "If you want to meet these girls, they're still out there in the dining-room, eating. I know flyers always like to get together—for 'ground flying,' as Lindbergh calls it."
"I don't care much about meeting those particular girls," replied Bess, scornfully. "They're only beginners—I dare say this is their first real flight. Yet the way they talk you'd think they had been pilots for years.... No, thank you. I guess I'll go up now, and take a rest. Will you have my dinner sent up to my room?"
She disappeared into the elevator, and when Linda and Louise came out of the alcove, they thought she had gone back to New York. When they stopped at the desk the clerk made no mention of "Miss Smith"because she had spoken so contemptuously of these young girls.
"What's your idea of a way to spend our time here?" asked Louise, as they unpacked their bags. "It's only five o'clock; we can't go to bed yet."
"Let's look for 'Hofstatters' in the phone book," suggested Linda. "Just for fun, because we probably shan't learn anything, but it wouldn't do any harm."
"O.K. with me. I'm glad his name isn't Smith or Jones, then it wouldn't be so easy."
Louise opened the telephone book on the small table beside the bed, and searched diligently.
"I've found three," she announced a minute later. "Amos, Charles, and Mary. But what shall we say when we call?"
"Say we come from the firm of J. W. Carwein, New York City—it'll be the truth, because we have just come from there—and we want to know when he will have another box of lace-work to sell."
"Great!" approved Louise, smiling at the joke. "And if we should happen to locate the man, what shall we do? Make an appointment?"
"Of course! He would have to tell us exactly where he got the goods, and if he isn't telling the truth and is smuggling them in fromCanada, we can have him arrested.... But we'll never meet luck like that!"
"I speak for Amos," said Louise. "I like the name. Besides, nobody with a name like that from the Bible could be crooked."
"And Mary ought to be out of it," remarked Linda. "Though of course she might have a son or a brother."
They took a few minutes to write down exactly what they would say, and began calling the numbers. But without success—that is, until they came to Mary. Amos Hofstatter grew angry, believing it was another wrong number, and shrieked that he had never heard of anybody named Carwein. Charles Hofstatter, identifying Louise's voice as that of a young girl, tried to make a date with her, but she scornfully replied, "Act your age!" and hung up with a bang.
Linda took the telephone to give the last call, the number listed for Mary Hofstatter.
A rather feeble voice answered.
"Who? What did you say?" the woman, evidently elderly, asked.
Linda repeated her message.
"You want my son?" she guessed. "You are Miss Smith?"
"No," replied Linda, firmly. "But we are from Carwein and Co., linen importers, and we want to see him."
"Oh—I—don't know where he is," stammered the other, nervously. "Miss Smith knows. Anna Smith. Ask her."
"But where is Anna Smith?" persisted Linda.
"I don't know anything about it at all!" protested the woman. "Good-by!"
Linda turned excitedly to Louise. "We're on the right track," she said. "But imagine locating an Anna Smith, North America!" She shook her head hopelessly.
"It wouldn't do much good anyway," remarked her chum. "This Hofstatter is probably some weak fellow, who will do anything for money. Our best plan is to strike out for the Convent."
"What do you say if we cut out the stop at Montreal altogether?" asked Linda, studying her map. "This Convent is between Montreal and Quebec, and I don't see why we shouldn't fly straight to it. We'll save a lot of time."
"Time is precious," agreed Louise. "But remember what Ted said, aboutinquiring at the Montreal airport for a landing place."
"I know, but we can't always do what Ted says. We're not beginners now, Lou. And I'm sure there will be a good place—the country is so open."
"O.K. with me. If tomorrow is a clear day, as it looks as if it is going to be, we can fly low enough to watch the ground pretty closely."
"Then it's settled," concluded Linda. "Give me ten minutes with this map, and I'll be finished. Then we can go to the movies, and buy a paper so that we'll have the weather prediction for tomorrow."
The next four hours passed pleasantly for the girls, and they stopped at a drug-store on their return from the early show at the theater, to buy a sandwich and some hot chocolate, which was all the supper they wanted. By ten o'clock their lights were out and they were fast asleep.
Soon after breakfast the following day, which was bright and sunshiny, Linda and Louise returned to the airport and took off into the bright blue sky. Everything seemed favorable; they had no idea that only a few hundred yards behind them a plane was following them, aplane whose pilot had no love for Linda Carlton or Louise Haydock.
"You didn't bring any coffee, did you?" asked Louise, as they sped on over the frozen country, glimpsing the St. Lawrence as they passed.
"No," returned her companion. "Only some sweet chocolate, matches and about three cans of baked beans, which I always carry. I've read a lot about making fire without matches, but if we ever have another experience like that one last summer, and come down in a lonely spot, I want matches. And something to keep us from starving."
Even in the companion cockpit, which was one of the nicest features of the Arrow Pursuit, conversation was rather difficult, and the girls only talked occasionally. Sometimes they would press each other's fingers just as a joyous signal of their pleasure in flying together.
It was Linda who first noticed the plane behind her.
"See what kind it is, Lou—if you can," she advised.
"Can't very well," replied the other, attempting to lean out and peer through her glasses. But it was too far away to identify.
"Hope it's not a thief or anybody like that," remarked Linda, recalling the other time a plane had followed them, in order that the pilot might steal Kitty Clavering's necklace.
"Don't worry!" returned Louise. "We haven't anything like pearls with us today!"
"You have your earrings! And besides, we must have a couple of hundred dollars between us."
But the plane had disappeared again, and the girls gave their attention to the country beneath them, flying low enough to watch the children on their sleds, and the skaters on the frozen lakes. The winter sports looked so inviting that both Linda and Louise wished they could stop and join in.
"Maybe we can do that tonight," exclaimed Louise. "If we get back to Montreal safely."
"Aunt Emily wouldn't approve," Linda reminded her.
"Your Aunt Emily doesn't approve of any of this! But anyway, it's all in a good cause."
"And we've gotten along fine so far...."
For some miles farther they watched the ice-covered lakes and the snow-covered ground, and the thick trees that dotted the landscape. The vastness of the woods was a little terrifying; Linda shivered whenshe thought what it would be like to be lost in them, at this time of the year. Their supplies might last them a day—after that they would certainly perish.... She pulled herself sharply from such gruesome thoughts; a pilot was always in a certain amount of danger, and had no right to brood upon it. Prepare for the unexpected, yes—and then forget it!
It was still early in the afternoon when they sighted the Convent. Large and picturesque, like those of the old world, as typical of French Canada as most of Quebec. Linda gave a cry of Joy.
"I'll have to circle awhile," she shouted to Louise, "till I can find a spot without trees for a landing. But I am sure there must be one—away from these hills."
Soon she was rewarded, for there proved to be a very good place—flat, even ground, covered with only a coating of snow.
Both girls were a little timid about the reception they might get. Were these nuns, living their quiet lives, used to airplanes, or would they resent the noise, breaking in upon their meditations and work? Trembling a little, but remembering their fondness for her Aunt Emily,Linda brought out her handkerchief which they had made, in readiness to show it to them as proof of her identity. Then she and Louise started towards the Convent, which was the distance of perhaps two city blocks away.
Before they had gone a half of the distance, they saw children running towards them from over the hill, children probably from the village beyond. The girl stopped, smiling.
"Candy! Candy!" cried the youngsters, and Linda went back to the plane and dug out their supply of chocolate and handed it over to them.
"It was sort of nice to see those kids," remarked Louise, as they again started towards the Convent. "Somehow they make it seem more alive. Oh, Linda, I do hope we don't interrupt the nuns at a service!"
But she need not have worried, for as soon as the girls entered the building they saw a group in a big room, engaged with their needles. What an opportune time to come!
"You do the talking, Lou!" urged Linda. "You always know what to say better than I do."
One of the sisters came forward and smiled.
"Welcome!" she said in French. "Come over to the fire and warmyourselves."
Fortunately, both girls had studied this language, and understood what she said. Gratefully they walked over to the old-fashioned stone fireplace, where a frugal fire of fagots was burning, and a kettle, hanging on a crane, was singing and bubbling.
"Merci, beaucoup!" replied Louise, to let the good woman know that she understood her, and appreciated her offer.
"Has anything happened?" asked the sister, still in French.
"Happened? Why?" returned Louise.
"You were here yesterday, and bought everything that we had made. The Mother Superior told us."
"But we weren't here yesterday!" protested Louise.
"Yes. In an airplane."
Linda and Louise looked at each other knowingly. It must have been Bess Hulbert—in the Moth! That would explain her presence in Plattsburg. They were sure of it now.
"That was somebody else," explained Linda. "Did you see her?"
"No, we did not see her. The Mother Superior saw her. Instead ofsending a man, she said Mr. Carlton thought we would prefer a lady. And she paid more—and gave the little village children candy. Oh, she is good! We are starting a little school for the village children."
What Louise wanted to say was "She is an impostor!" but she could not think of the French word for "impostor," and besides, what was the use of telling all this to these simple-hearted sisters? Instead, she asked for the Mother Superior.
"She is away, visiting a sick friend, in Quebec. She will not be back until tomorrow."
Louise sighed; there was nothing they could do now. But they had found out what they wanted; it was Bess Hulbert who was smuggling the goods into the country, and stealing Mr. Carlton's business. It would be an easy thing now to catch her and have her arrested.
"We must go now," said Louise. "Before it gets dark."
"Oh, but have something to eat!" urged the sister. "Some tea and biscuits."
Seeing that these good women might be hurt if they refused, the girls accepted the invitation and sat down to the simple meal. It was plain, but good, and they discovered that they were very hungry, for they hadnot eaten since breakfast.
"Now let us show you over the Convent," offered another, and while they accompanied several of the nuns about the old, meticulously neat rooms, they heard the roar of a plane, making a landing not far away. Immediately Linda glanced out of the window, to see whether her Arrow was safe, and she saw another plane landing quite near. But before the girls left the Convent, the latter had disappeared.
"Now back to Montreal for the night—and then hot foot after Bess Hulbert!" cried Linda, as she started the motor. "If we accuse her of being a smuggler, and she promises to stop, and leave Daddy alone, we won't have to have her arrested."
"But first," qualified Louise, "we must _catch_ Bess Hulbert!"
Although no definite results had yet been accomplished, Linda and Louise felt when they left the little French Convent in Canada that they were on the way to victory. All that was necessary now was to get in touch with Linda's father, who, through his lawyer and detectives, would bring Bess Hulbert to justice.
The facts as they saw them were surprisingly clear and simple, and could not fail to convince the police.
First of all, the firm of J. W. Carwein had declared that they had bought the goods in the belief that they were made in the United States.
Secondly, the firm had been deceived. The goods were not made in this country, but in Canada, as the girls had just proved by their visit to the Convent.
Thirdly, they had been bought by a girl in an airplane, who represented herself as an agent of Mr. Carlton.
The only missing link in the chain was the actual proof that the girlin the airplane was Bess Hulbert.
Yet all the evidence pointed that way: her visit to Plattsburg, her taking the Moth to Canada, her conversation with her brother, at the hotel, in which she referred to her business as dangerous and liable to end in disgrace, and finally her interest in Linda's handkerchief a month or so previous.
Surely no one would doubt such evidence as this! But if the police refused to arrest Miss Hulbert, it would be easy enough to send a picture to the Convent for identification. That would prove everything conclusively.
So both girls felt certain, as they stepped into the Arrow, that they had been successful, that they were about to save Mr. Carlton's business. And this fact meant joy to themselves. Now they could plan again on their flight across the Atlantic; now it would surely be safe to put in the order for the Bellanca which Linda had set her heart upon having.
"Let's don't bother to go back by way of Montreal," said Linda, exultantly, as she started the motor and taxied along the frozen field. "Let's head straight for Spring City!"
"But do you know the way?" inquired Louise, as the plane rose into theair.
"Yes, I guess so. I have a map—oh, not the kind Ted makes, but good enough. We'll fly across country, and stop when we get tired."
"But it's getting dark, Linda," objected her companion.
"We can't help that, Lou! It would be getting dark anyway, even if we were headed for Montreal."
"But this is strange country. So many woods, too. A forced landing would be terrible, Linda."
"Who said anything about a forced landing?" laughed the other girl. She felt thrilled and exhilarated; the cold, fresh air against her cheeks whipped them to a lovely color, and her eyes were shining. She was in the mood for adventure tonight. But when she realized that her chum was dubious, she decided to go easy. Perhaps Louise was tired.
"Lou dear," she shouted, "if you're nervous, we'll go to Montreal, and put up for the night. Say the word—but say it quickly!"
"No! No! I'm for the quickest way home. And I have a lot of confidence in you, Linda."
"You better have, if you mean to cross the ocean with me. We'llhave to get used to night flying, Lou, if we hope to succeed!"
"I know," agreed the other, as she settled down into her seat to try to keep warm.
Darkness came on, but the sky was cloudless, and the stars shone out brilliantly. Linda kept her eye on her chart, but although she did not tell Louise, she was not sure where they were. Had they crossed into New York state—were they flying in the northern part, or were they still in Canada? Her goal was Syracuse; she hoped to reach it before midnight.
The trees were still thick everywhere, and they were flying about fifteen hundred feet high. All of a sudden, without any warning, the engine missed and sputtered, and stopped dead!
Louise, who for the last five minutes had been peacefully dozing, awoke with a start at the abrupt cessation of noise. Just as a Pullman traveler will sleep while a train is moving, and wake up at a station, so the silence affected Louise. It was positively uncanny.
"What's the matter, Linda?" she whispered, hoarsely.
"Out of gas," replied the pilot, grimly.
"Then—then—" She clutched her companion's arm, desperately—"Then we jump?"
Before Linda could reply, the motor took hold again.
"No! Not yet!" she shouted, above the welcome noise. "I have turned on the reserve supply—it's good for about twenty minutes. We'll try to land."
She circled about and came lower, but the prospect was disastrous. Nothing but woods! Trees everywhere! She remembered bitterly the occasion when her father had presented her with the Arrow, as a graduation gift, and had remarked shrewdly that she would get to hate trees. How right he was!
But she must not lose track of the time—the precious twenty minutes that might be all that were left to her in this world. Louise, with the glasses, was peering down towards the ground. But there were no lights, no towns, no signs of civilization anywhere. Nothing but trees.
When only eight minutes remained, Linda decided in desperation to climb again. If they were to use their parachutes successfully, they must attain a comfortable height.
The ascent only served to make Louise more panic-stricken. Shegrabbed Linda's arm, and held to it like a death-clasp.
"Where are you going, Linda?" she shrieked. "Are you crazy?"
Linda shook her head. It was surprising how calm she felt.
"Get ready to release your parachute," she commanded. "When we get high enough, we are going to jump. Have you your flashlight handy?"
"Yes. All right, Linda." Her voice shook with emotion.
"It'll be all right, Lou dear! I've jumped before—it isn't bad. And you've been taught just what to do."
At four thousand feet up in the air, Linda gave her the signal, and Louise stepped out over the right side of the plane.
Then Linda turned the nose of the Arrow up, and stepped off herself, falling about a hundred feet, head downward, before she pulled the rip-cord which opened the parachute, and jerked her into an upright position. Off to one side of them, the plane was falling rapidly, in a series of spirals; for a moment Linda had the tense fear that it might strike her companion or herself. Holding out her flashlight, and watching the ground below, she floated gently away from the plane,landing finally in a clearing perhaps fifty yards away from Louise.
"Lou, are you safe?" she shouted, gasping.
"O.K.!" was the laughing reply, that brought a warm surge of relief to her heart.
With the aid of their flash-lights the girls disentangled themselves from their cords, and ran towards each other. Suddenly they stopped; a blaze of light flashed in the sky, and they saw the beloved Arrow in flames!
"Oh, poor Linda!" cried Louise, rushing to her chum in sympathy. "What rotten luck!"
Tears came into the young aviatrix's eyes, and she hugged her chum tightly in her grief. It was as if she had lost a very dear friend. For a breathless moment they watched the blazing plane, fearful lest it would drop on them, or set the woods on fire. But gradually the light died, and what was left of the Arrow dropped to the ground at least a mile away.
"I guess we're lucky at that," Linda finally said, shivering.
"I was sure we'd be killed," Louise admitted. "It seems so much worse to have an accident at night—so much more terrifying."
They stood still for a moment and looked about them. A lightcovering of snow was on the ground, and on the leafless branches of the trees. In every direction the woods stretched out in desolation. The girls had not the faintest idea where they were.
"Oh, I'm so cold!" complained Louise. "If only we had a fire!"
"My matches!" remarked Linda, regretfully. "My matches that I packed so carefully! A whole box.... Well, next time I'll see that they are in my pocket. Lucky we have our flash-lights—and no sprained ankles. Come on, Lou, we must walk, or we'll freeze to death."
"But where are we going?"
"Anywhere—to keep warm with the exercise, and maybe happen on some hut or house. We daren't sleep tonight, Lou! Oh, if, we only had those blankets!"
"And those baked beans!"
"Shucks!" exclaimed Linda. "Why didn't I think to throw some stuff out before we left the plane! All the mail carriers do. If they have to jump, they drop their mail bags first."
"Too late now to think of that. But wasn't it lucky we had something to eat at the Convent?"
"It surely was. I wish we had eaten twice as much."
With their arms tightly linked together, the girls were pressing forward now at an even pace, as if they had cheerfully made up their minds to walk all night long. Sometimes they would step into thick piles of dried leaves, but otherwise the ground was hard, except for an inch or so of snow. Often they encountered ice, and their feet grew numb with the cold.
Louise, who had not wanted Linda to take the unknown course, had said nothing about the cause of the accident, for fear of hurting her chum's feelings. But Linda's mind had been busily working on the explanation ever since the tank went dry.
"Lou," she said finally, as they walked on through the darkness, "I think I have the explanation."
"What explanation? How to get out of these woods?"
"No, no. Of the reason why our gas ran out. I should have had enough to get to Syracuse. But do you remember hearing a plane land near to ours, while we were in the Convent?"
"Yes, of course. We both saw it."
"Well, do you know what I believe? I think that was Bess Hulbert,in the Flying Club's Moth—and it was she who was following us all the way to the Convent."
"Linda!" cried Louise, in amazement. "But how could she ever know we were here? Not that I'd put it past her—but how could she possibly find out, or guess what we were up to?"
"I don't know, except that she may have seen us—or our names on the hotel register at Plattsburg. People who are committing crimes are always on the watch, you know, expecting to be caught."
"How could she ever dump out our gas, in so short a time?"
"She didn't. She put a little hole in the gas tank, probably, so that the gas would leak out slowly. That would be a much meaner thing to do than to cut a strut, or injure the propeller, because either of those things would keep us from going up in the air without discovering it, and we wouldn't learn our danger from a leak without flying a while. Besides, whatever happened would happen when we were some distance away—so that she couldn't possibly be blamed! And it would be too late to do anything."
"The sneak!" denounced Louise, feeling almost hot for a second in heranger. "You're right, Linda—I'm sure you are! But really, it was intended murder!"
"Probable murder—if we couldn't make a landing or jump. But she thinks we are so inexperienced that we couldn't do either.... Yes, I really believe Miss Hulbert thinks we're dead now!"
"And won't she get fooled!" exulted Louise. "Once we get back to civilization, we'll do plenty to her!"
"If we get back to civilization," said Linda, with the first note of despair creeping into her voice. Their feet were so cold, they began to ache dreadfully, and the woods were as dense and as hopeless as when they first began to walk. They slackened their pace, until Louise's feet fairly seemed to drag. She stopped abruptly.
"I just can't go on, Linda," she sighed. "My feet hurt so terribly!"
"I know," answered her companion, sympathetically. "We might take off our shoes and rub them with snow. But if we once stop, we'll never be able to start again—and then we'll surely freeze."
It was a gruesome alternative; they looked at each other in dismay.
"Let's go very slowly, and hang on to each other," urged Linda. "The night can't last forever, and the sunshine will bring warmth."
"It's the longest night I ever knew," said Louise, drearily. "But morning will be worse, because we'll be that much hungrier."
Linda pressed her hand; there was no use trying to cheer the other girl with hopes, that she was in no mood to believe. So they went on doggedly.
For perhaps half an hour they continued in silence; then once again Louise stopped abruptly, her hand rigid in Linda's. There were footsteps behind them!
"A bear!" she whispered, in fright.
Pulling her cautiously aside, Linda broke off a stick from a tree, and turned about to face the enemy. There was no use trying to run—why they could hardly hobble. And in the darkness, what hope was there of finding a tree to climb?
To her intense amazement, she saw nothing, and she dared not turn on her flashlight. Tensely she waited, until a shot rang out in the woods and broke the stillness of the night. A gun at least meant a humanhand, and both girls immediately let out a piteous cry of "Help!"
"Yo—ho!" came the welcome, answering reply!
When the shot of the gun rang through the woods, the startled girls heard scampering feet behind them, and knew that the animal, whatever it was, had been frightened away. Again they had had a marvelous escape, for they might have been wounded by the unseen hunter's gun. What irony it would have been, to jump from an airplane in parachutes, only to be killed by a human hand!
Desperately they clung to each other, satisfied now by the answering call that there would be more shots until they were located. Rescue was surely at hand; the question now arose: what sort of human being had them at his mercy?
They remained motionless, waiting for their fate, as the footsteps came nearer. At last they were able to distinguish the shaggy outline of a man in a fur coat.
"Who's there?" he called.
Both girls breathed a sigh of relief, as theyheard the words in English. Surely they were safe now!
"Two girls—from a wrecked airplane.... Lost," replied Linda.
"Oh, can you give us shelter, please?" begged Louise.
The stranger came towards them, and they looked into the face of a middle-aged man, rough and hard, but civilized.
"Yes. You can come into my lodge.... This is a cold night to be lost in these northern woods."
"Dreadful!" shivered Louise. "We thought we were done for."
"What happened to your plane?"
"We sprung a leak in our gas tank. We had to jump, and it went up in flames."
"Too bad," muttered the man.
Nothing more was said for a few minutes, and the girls walked painfully on, guided by their companion. At last they came to a small cabin, with an oil lamp lighted inside. It looked like Heaven to Linda and Louise.
"I'll give you some food, and let you have the place for the night," offered the man, generously. "I was going off anyhow."
"Oh, no!" protested Linda. "We mustn't drive you out in thecold!" And, seeing that the cabin had two rooms—a living-room and a kitchen, she immediately added, "We can easily sleep in the kitchen."
"No, I expect to be out all night anyway." He went out into the kitchen and made them some hot coffee, and fried bacon and produced crackers and a can of beans.
"Nothing in my life ever tasted half so good!" cried Louise, gratefully, as she ate ravenously, while her host stood there a moment watching both of the girls.
"Now tell me," he said, "what you two young ladies were doing flying a plane up here on the border in the dead of winter?"
"We've been to Canada," explained Linda, "to visit a Convent where some nuns make this lovely lace-work." She took her handkerchief out of her pocket, and showed it to the man, though she realized it would not be possible for him to appreciate it. "My father buys this, and sells it again."
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the man, significantly, opening his eyes and his mouth wide, knowingly. "I see."
"What do you see?" asked Louise, sharply.
"Nothing—nothing," he muttered. "I must be off—I haveto get in touch with a man I know tonight—across the woods." His tone changed abruptly. "I don't want you girls to stir from here till I get back! You understand?"
"You mean you want us to go on eating all night?" remarked Louise, ignoring the seriousness of his tone. The coffee had made her feel good; she wanted to laugh and joke.
"No. I mean you're not to leave the cabin, till I get back in the morning."
"We won't!" Linda assured him. "Nothing could induce us to, in all this cold. We'd never find our way, and besides, we want to pay for our lodging. Can you—could you find a way to get us to a train tomorrow?"
"I'll take care of you," he replied, with a queer smile, but neither Linda nor Louise noticed. They were too tired now for anything but sleep.
As soon as he was gone, they decided to turn in. There was only one narrow cot in the cabin, but there were three blankets, and they knew they would not mind sleeping in close quarters. It was so good to be warm, and fed, alive!
Linda was the first to awaken the following morning, and for a moment, as she looked about her at the unfamiliar surroundings, shecould not recall where she was. The strange little hut, with the big stone fireplace, where now only ashes remained of last night's fire, the crude couch on which she and Louise were huddled so close together, the trophies about the unfinished walls. And outside the icy windows, a desolate country, covered with snow.
"Hurry up, Lou!" she cried, waking her companion. "Let's get washed up before that man comes back! Funny, we never thought to ask him his name!"
"We were too tired," replied the other girl, rubbing her eyes. "Honestly I never was so nearly dead in my life."
"It was because we saw no hope of resting. Just going on and on—or freezing. How do your feet feel this morning?"
"Terrible!" Louise leaned over and examined them. "They're dreadfully swollen. I'll never be able to walk, and how can we get to civilization if we don't?"
"Maybe our friend will dig up some horses. Or an airplane. If there is any place to land."
"An airplane!" repeated Louise, as she laboriously, started to pull on her stockings. "Linda, do you feel very terrible about losing theArrow?"
"Of course I'm dreadfully sorry, but I think I should be ungrateful if I thought too much about that—after our lucky escape. Besides, I feel pretty certain I'll get another one now. If Daddy can pull out of his business troubles, we can order that Bellanca."
The girls finished their dressing and set the room to rights, so that everything would be comfortable and neat when their host returned. Then they started a fire in the fireplace with some kindling and logs that were in readiness, and proceeded to the kitchen, to clear up their supper dishes, and to cook some breakfast. Fortunately there was plenty of food, and they enjoyed their hot meal. But they were not so ravenous as they had been the night before.
"I wish that man would hurry," remarked Linda, as she put the clean dishes away. "I'd like to get somewhere to wire Ted. When he didn't get a telegram last night, he probably thought something had happened to us, and maybe he'll send out a searching party today."
"That's true," agreed Louise. "Good old Ted!... But what about your Aunt Emily? Do you think she will worry?"
"Not yet. Because she didn't expect us to wire every night. Sheprobably thinks we're visiting some friends in Plattsburg."
They went back to the living-room, and settled themselves comfortably before the open fire, enjoying the warmth and cheer of the blaze. Linda's wrist-watch, which was still going in spite of its fall through the air, proclaimed it to be ten o'clock when a knock finally sounded at the door.
She sprang up and unfastened the bolt. It was their rescuer, with another man, also in a fur coat. Two horses stood outside, covered with blankets.
"How are you today?" asked the owner of the cabin, genially.
"Just fine!" replied Linda, gayly. "Thanks to your hospitality!"
"Meet Sergeant Bradshaw," said the man rather brusquely, as he and his companion stepped inside and closed the door. "Your names——?"
"Linda Carlton and Louise Haydock," replied the former.
"Well, Sergeant," explained their host, turning to the other man, "these are the young ladies.... But, as I told you, they've lost theirplane now, so they'll probably tell you they are ready to reform."
"Reform?" repeated Louise, thinking that the man was teasing them. But he was not smiling; and his companion was regarding them with a most scornful expression.
"They'll reform all right," sneered the latter. "Under lock and key!"
For the first time a shiver of fear crept over Linda. Was their rescuer bad, after all? Did he mean to kidnap her and her chum?
"What do you mean?" demanded Louise, in a tone of challenge.
"What I say!" thundered the sergeant, displaying his badge. "I arrest you two young ladies as smugglers! I am going to take you both to jail!"
"Smugglers?" repeated Linda, aghast.
"Yes. You know all about it. Don't look innocent! We've had wind for over a month of the fact that a plane was taking something from Canada to Plattsburg, but we just found out last week what it was—_French lace_! And a girl has been flying it!"
Instantly both Linda and Louise understood what had happened. They were being arrested for Bess Hulbert's crime!
"But neither of us is the girl you're after—the girl that's guilty!"protested Louise. "That girl flew a gray Moth!"
"Yeah? And how do we know your plane wasn't a gray Moth? How are you going to prove that? And didn't you admit you'd just come from that Convent, and didn't you show my friend Marshall here, some of the goods?"
"But those are our own things!" cried Louise. "Bought in Columbus, Ohio!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, I don't happen to believe that.... What I do know, is you didn't stop at the border for the regular search, did you?"
"We didn't know you had to.... We didn't even know the border when we came to it," remarked Linda, bitterly.
"No? Well, you can tell that to the judge!" replied the sergeant, with a smirk. "I guess you don't even know yet whether you're in the U.S. or not?"
"No, as a matter of fact, we don't."
"Innocent little things!" he sneered, sarcastically. "Rats! What's the use of wasting time? Come on!"
"Won't you even listen to our story?" begged Linda.
"You can save it for the judge! We've got a couple of horsesout here, and we're each taking one of you along. Get your coats on—and hustle!"
Meekly Linda did as she was told, biting her lips to keep back the tears, but Louise was furiously angry.
"You just wait!" she sputtered. "You'll make a public apology for this, when our fathers hear about it."
"Listen to the little spit-fire!" drawled the sergeant, in a nasty tone. Then, turning to the other man, "Listen, Marshall, I don't think we better try to take these two girls on our horses—especially this little cat here." He pointed rudely at Louise. "She might scratch! And it's none too easy traveling in this kind of weather.... Their trial won't come up for a month or so, anyway, so we might as well lock 'em in here as anywhere till we see fit to get 'em. You don't need the cabin, do you?"
"No, I can go over with Hendries."
"Well, the windows are barred. Besides, if they tried to escape, they would only get lost, and freeze or starve to death. Suppose we leave 'em here to think over their crime, and maybe after a few days or so, they'll be more ready to confess."
"But we have to wire our folks!" cried Linda, in dismay.
"You ought to have thought of that before you tried your tricks. If it's your father you're working for, he knows what to expect. Smuggling's serious business, young woman!"
"But we didn't——"
"So I've heard you say before, but lady, that don't get you anywheres with me.... Marshall, you go and get wood and see that there's enough oil and water and food to last about four days. I'll stay here and watch 'em till you get back."
Linda and Louise did not believe anyone could be so cruel, so inhuman as this man—not even willing to listen to their story. But he was so entirely convinced of their guilt, that he probably thought he was justified. After all, the punishment wouldn't have been too severe if he had caught the right person—Bess Hulbert. But how unfair it was for them!
"Won't you please send my father a telegram?" begged Linda, with tears in her eyes.
"Are you ready to confess?" countered the sergeant.
"We can't confess what we haven't done!" she protested.
"Then your father will have to wait. He'll know in about four days,when we bring a plane to take you away."
"Oh!" gasped Linda, realizing the horrible anxiety this decision would cause so many people dear to herself and Louise. Dropping down on the couch, she buried her head in her hands, and did not look up again until the men had gone, and locked and barred the door from the outside. Then she broke into uncontrollable weeping, and Louise, clasping her arms about her, cried too.
"There is only one redeeming thing about it," said Louise, after a moment. "We're together."
"If we weren't," sobbed Linda, "I think we should lose our minds!"
But already Louise was looking about, trying to figure out some means of escape.
"The thing that makes me maddest," she remarked, "is the delay in catching Bess Hulbert. She'll probably make a get-away before we can notify your father."
"I don't think so," answered Linda, sitting up and resolutely drying her eyes. "Don't forget, Bess thinks we probably went up in flames with the Arrow. And when nothing is heard of us for five days, she'll be positive.... No, my bet is that she'll go right on with hersmuggling and stealing Daddy's business."
Her companion admitted that she was right. And all they could do was sit here and wait for those horrible men to return!
It was a problem of course, how to amuse themselves, for there was no radio, or music of any kind, and there were no books on the shelves. When they had gotten over their first despair, they tried putting their wits together and manufacturing some sort of occupation. And they thought of various things, of giving each other exercises, and playing guessing games, making up new recipes for the ingredients that were in the kitchen store-closet.
But, try as they did to be cheerful, the hours dragged, and four days stretched out as interminably before them.
As Linda had surmised, her aunt did not expect her to wire every night, unless something happened, so when December twenty-ninth passed without any message, the latter naturally supposed that the girls were still at Plattsburg with friends. Heretofore, the older woman had known all of her niece's companions, but since Linda had gone away to school, her circle had naturally widened. Miss Carlton frowned when she recalled that she had neglected to ask the names of the girls Linda and Louise intended to visit.
When she heard nothing from them again on the morning of the thirtieth, she grew anxious and called Mrs. Haydock on the telephone.
"I don't want to alarm you, Miss Carlton," answered Louise's mother, "but I am afraid something has happened."
"Why? What makes you think so? Because we haven't heard from themsince the twenty-seventh?"
"Not only that," replied Mrs. Haydock. "But I put in a long distance call for Ted Mackay—Louise said they would keep him informed of their whereabouts, in case they had any difficulties—and I got the message that he had gone to Canada in search of two missing flyers!"
"Canada!" repeated Miss Carlton, aghast. "That couldn't be our girls! They were going to New York."
"So I understood. But they may have gone on to Canada.... Well, let us hope that Ted flew up to search for someone else. All we can do is wait."
"Oh, those dreadful airplanes!" wailed Miss Carlton, hysterically. "I wish they had never been invented.... Well, I'll call my brother," she concluded, for she had no idea what to do.
That, of course, was the difficulty everybody met—every one of Linda Carlton's and Louise Haydock's friends at Spring City, when the news got around that the girls were lost. Nobody knew where they were; nobody had any way of helping find them.
Anxiety for them spread over the little town where they were so popular. Particularly at the Flying Club, where their most intimatefriends were gathered that afternoon to play bridge or to dance, as the mood seized them. A skating party which had been planned by Dot Crowley and Jim Valier had to be canceled on account of a heavy snow the night before. Even now the storm was still raging, reminding them all the more of their two friends with the open Arrow.
Dot Crowley, however, resolutely decided to be hopeful, to make an effort to dispel the gloom that threatened to engulf them all.
"No use weeping till we hear that something has happened," she said, as she turned on the radio. "I'd stake a good-sized bet on Linda and Lou! Haven't they always come through with flying colors?"
"If they're still _flying_ colors, or anything else, they're all right," remarked Jim Valier, lazily stretching his legs out toward the blazing fire. But, lazy though he always appeared, he was ready to help Dot in her valiant effort to be cheerful.
"They'll be home yet—in time for the New Tear's Eve party!" she asserted, with conviction. "I'm not going to lose faith."
"I'm not either," added Kitty Clavering, who was usually so timid,but who had a deep admiration for Linda Carlton. "I think Linda is one of the cleverest girls I ever met."
Everybody agreed with her, and somehow they all suddenly felt optimistic. The bridge tables were brought out, the couples began to play and dance in the intervals when they were "dummies." Everybody seemed happy again—everybody except Ralph Clavering. Off in a corner he was smoking a cigarette in doleful silence.
Dot, who still felt the responsibility for the atmosphere of the party, went over to cheer him up.
"What's the matter, Ralph?" she asked half teasingly, half sympathetically.
"Nothing," he muttered, with a frown that plainly said, "let me alone!"
"I know, though," persisted Dot, seating herself beside him. "You haven't any partner for the New Year's Eve dance!"
"Well, I'm not asking you," he replied, rudely.
"You know it wouldn't be any use!" retorted Dot, her chin in the air. "I'm going with Jim."
"O.K. with me." He continued to smoke in silence.
"Well, buck up!" she advised, patting his shoulder."Linda may fly home any minute."
"Here comes a plane now!" cried Kitty, jumping up and rushing to the window. "Why, it's our own Moth!"
Everybody dashed to the window, to see Bess Hulbert make her landing, and three or four of the boys slipped into their overcoats to go out and help her put it into the hangar. But Ralph sat stolidly gazing into the fire.
Five minutes later, Miss Hulbert, her cheeks glowing and her eyes flashing with excitement, came into the room.
"Welcome to our famous flyer!" cried Kitty, turning off the radio.
"What's weather to her!" laughed Joe Elliston, admiringly.
"All in the day's work," replied Miss Hulbert.
"Tell us where you've been," urged Kitty.
"Up to the Great Lakes," replied the aviatrix, vaguely. "I bought my own gas and oil, but I feel I owe the Club ten dollars for the use of the plane.... I—I'll pay myself!"
They all smiled, for Bess Hulbert was still treasurer of the club.
"Don't be silly!" protested Kitty. "You're a member of the club."
"But I was using the plane for business—not for pleasure."
"Just what is your business, Miss Hulbert?" inquired Ralph.
The girl colored; she did not like his tone. It was a bitter blow to her pride that this rich young man had never fallen for her charms.
"Fish!" she replied mockingly. "Poor fish!"
Everybody laughed, not knowing whether she was serious or not, and this time the joke seemed to be on Ralph.
"You didn't see Linda or Louise—in the course of your trip, did you?" asked Dot Crowley.
"Linda—Louise—?" Miss Hulbert was stalling for time.
"Yes. The two girls who fly in an Arrow Pursuit. They've been missing for two days and Miss Carlton and Mrs. Haydock are almost crazy. We're all worried too, only we try not to be."
"Too bad," murmured Miss Hulbert. "But they really shouldn't be flying in this sort of weather. They haven't had the experience."
"How else would they get it?" demanded Ralph, brusquely.
"Short trips," answered Bess. "It's foolish people like them who do harm to aviation. Make the public think it's so dangerous."
"How do you know they went on a long trip?" questioned Kitty, innocently.
"Oh—er—I don't. I only supposed they did."
"Yes, we're all afraid of that. They were last heard of from Plattsburg—the twenty-seventh."
"And this is the thirtieth," remarked Bess, absently. "I wonder if that wreck that was reported in the early afternoon papers could have been their plane."
"What wreck?" demanded everybody at once.
"The charred wreck of a plane was found by an aviator named Ted Mackay. Up on the border, between New York state and Canada."
"Ted Mackay!" repeated Dot. "That's Linda's friend—the one who rescued her before."
"Well, he didn't rescue her today," asserted Bess. "There were no bodies in the plane. But then it was almost completely destroyed."
At this gruesome remark, Kitty immediately burst out crying, and even Dot Crowley could find no reason to be hopeful any longer, andwiped the tears from her eyes. Oh, it was dreadful to think of their two lovely friends as dead! Worse still, for them to meet death in such a horrible way!
"It may not have been their plane," Bess reminded her companions, although in her heart she felt sure that it was. "Or, even if it is, they might still be alive, if they had the nerve to use their parachutes."
"They had plenty of nerve!" responded Dot. "But even if they jumped, it isn't likely they'd still be alive in this terrible weather."
"If they were, we should probably have heard from them," said Ralph, glumly.
Nobody spoke for some time; resuming of the games was out of the question now. Finally, to break the silence, and to have something to do, Kitty rang the bell for the club matron to serve tea and sandwiches.
Over the tea-cups a low murmur of conversation finally arose, but it was all in a gloomy undertone. Nothing could have been more depressing than the atmosphere in that room—until the door was suddenly flung open by a small boy—Louise Haydock's brother.
"Whoopee! Whoopee!" he shouted, throwing his hat straight intoRalph Clavering's tea-cup. "The girls are alive and safe!"
"Linda? Louise?" cried everybody at once. In the excitement all eyes were upon the boy; nobody noticed that Bess Hulbert's face went ghastly white.
"Yeah! Ted Mackay wired just now. He found them on the Canadian border, locked up in a cabin!"
"Locked up? Kidnapped?" demanded Ralph.
"No. Locked up by law. They have to go to jail."
"Jail?"
"It's some joke!" exclaimed Jim Valier.
"No. Honest!" protested the boy. "They're being held for some crime they didn't commit. Smuggling, or something!"
"Oh, they probably brought a bottle of Canadian wine into the United States," laughed Ralph. "They'll just have a little fine to pay——"
"But Linda doesn't drink—or Lou either!" asserted Dot. "I know they wouldn't think of such a thing."
"Well, so long as they're safe, it'll be an easy matter for them to get free," said Ralph, more relieved than anyone realized. "Why, they may be back in time for the New Year's Eve dance!"
"Not a chance," answered the boy, with a vehement shake of his head.... "Don't forget the Arrow is a thing of the past—they've got to come home by train. Besides, they can't start till Dad and Mr. Carlton get up there to bail 'em out!"
"I wish they had the Moth," sighed Kitty. "If it were only decent weather, Bess could go get them."
Miss Hulbert was horrified at such a suggestion, but she managed to cover her consternation with a smile.
As soon as the excitement died down the party began to break up. But Bess Hulbert continued to sit before the fire, thinking deeply, trying to decide what to do.
So the law had gotten wind of the fact that smuggling was going on, by a girl in an airplane! And had arrested Linda Carlton and Louise Haydock, thinking them guilty. She smiled in a nasty, superior way. What a joke it was on those two upstarts! But her mouth grew grim again; it was only a question of time now, before the officers discovered the right person, before she too was brought to justice. And she wouldn't get off so easily as these two others.... No, there wasonly one thing for her to do—and that was to leave the country, before anybody thought of accusing her of this crime, or of the more serious one of damaging Linda's plane....
Lucky thing, she thought, that she had already made some money out of the business! But how she wished she had more!
Kitty Clavering, who was the only person still left at the club, came over and put her arm around Bess, attempting to pull her to her feet.
"What's the matter, Bess?" she asked, noticing that the other girl did not respond to her embrace.
"Lots of things, Kitty," replied Bess, soberly. "I've had some pretty bad news today.... Of course I didn't say anything about it in front of the others, especially when I found you all so worried about your young friends."
"Well, we don't have to worry about them any more! So I can give all my thoughts to you.... Come on home with me, and tell me about it!" urged the younger girl. She did not add that she wanted to hear about Lieutenant Hulbert, whom she had not seen for over a month.
"Oh, all right," agreed Bess, without any enthusiasm. "For a little while.... But I must get back to my hotel. I'll have to go to New Yorktonight."
Kitty did not question her any further until they were alone in her pretty boudoir, Bess relaxing on the chaise longue, Kitty in the flowered chintz chair.
"Now tell me, my dear," repeated Kitty, sympathetically.
"Well," Bess began slowly, "it's about business. I was joking this afternoon, of course, but the fact is I've been going into something pretty deep—and—and—I'm going to lose. Fail, in other words.... And the worst of it is—I'll have to go to England to get some money, if I can. My brother and I are English, you know."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" cried Kitty. To the rich young heiress, poverty seemed terrible. And Bess had mentioned her brother—was it possible he had lost money too? Was that the reason he was staying away from her? She put the question to her friend.
"Yes," lied Bess, for she knew that this would draw more sympathy from Kitty, and the latter might even offer to lend her some money. "Yes, I was investing Bob's money, and lost that too."
"How terrible!" Kitty got up and went over beside the older girl."If I could only help you, dear—financially, I mean."
Bess's eyelids narrowed. This was just what she was hoping for!
"That's good of you, Kit—but I really couldn't accept it!"
"But as a loan? Oh, please! I'd love to!"
"Well—" Bess paused, as if she would need a great deal of persuasion. "My idea would be to borrow enough to order a big plane, and fly the Atlantic and win that twenty-five thousand dollars. Then I could pay you and my brother both back at once."
"And bring glory to our Flying Club!"
"Yes, of course.... But Kitty, have you any idea what a good plane costs? I'm afraid you couldn't raise so much money, could you?"
"About how much?" asked Kitty, vaguely. She was thinking of Bob Hulbert now, wondering whether she couldn't write and tell him she understood why he was staying away from her, and urging him to come back.
"Well, novices like your two friends would probably expect to pay about twenty thousand dollars for their plane.... But I wouldn't have to have that kind. Because, even if I did win the prize, it would hardly pay me.... No, I wouldn't pay more than eight or ten thousandfor mine.... But you could never raise that much, could you, Kit?"
The girl shook her head.
"I'm afraid not.... Only by getting a loan on my pearl necklace. Do you suppose that could be done, Bess?"
"Of course it could. But not here in Spring City. We'd have to go to New York."
"I can't go to New York. I'm dated up for a dance tonight."
"I think I could manage it myself," said Bess. "If you care to trust me, and will give me a note authorizing the loan."
"I'll be only too glad to," agreed Kitty, and she produced the necklace and immediately sat down to the desk to write the letter.
So, three hours later, Bess Hulbert stepped into the Pullman for New York, carrying not only the precious pearls, but all of the Flying Club's money as well, which she had pretended to forget to hand over to Kitty.
"And now," she said triumphantly to herself, "let the United States courts try to catch me if they can!"