Someone from the crowd handed Ralph a cup filled with water, and before they had gone half a dozen steps, Linda had recovered consciousness. She dropped down to the ground and stared questioningly about her.
"What was it, my dear?" asked Ralph gently, as he held the water to her lips. "Was the man hurt so horribly?"
"No—it wasn't that," replied Linda slowly, remembering all that had happened. "It was just—oh, Ralph! I hate to tell you!"
"Please tell me, Linda," he begged.
She looked about her for a moment. The ambulance had gone, and the crowd, seeing that the girl was all right, began to withdraw, some to examine the shattered plane, others to go back to their cars parked along the roadside. There was nobody listening now, so she decided to answer Ralph's question.
"It wasn't our thief at all," she said. "It was—Ted Mackay."
"Ted Mackay?" he repeated, as if he could not believe his ears.
"Yes."
"Then how do you explain it? That couldn't have been Mackay we met on that field—Mackay disguised, or anything?"
"No. He wasn't tall enough. And he had black hair. Oh, Ralph, I'm sure of that!"
"Then how do you explain it?"
"I don't explain it," she said weakly.
He said nothing more, but he knew that she was not only terribly disappointed in not being able to trace the necklace, but that she was entertaining grave doubts about Mackay's part in the whole miserable affair. Were he and this thief in partnership, playing a wicked game, and had Ted hired the man because he would not let them know his part in the robbery?
But there was no use talking about that now, for Ralph realized that Linda was almost ready to collapse. Drawing her arm through his, he led her silently back to the Pursuit, and put her into the cockpit, indicating that he would pilot them back to Green Falls. Not a word did she utter during the entire flight homeward; she drooped listlessly back in her seat, with an expression of disappointment and despair onher face. How she wished that she had not come!
No one was waiting for them at the airport, so they took a taxi to Miss Carlton's bungalow. They found the latter on the porch, with only Kitty and Maurice beside her.
"Any news?" demanded the girl, jumping out of the hammock, and rushing down the steps before the taxi had been stopped.
"Some news, yes," replied Linda, while Ralph paid the driver. "But I'm afraid it doesn't mean much. Ralph will tell you all about it."
But the young man was not willing to tell his story until he had asked Miss Carlton to take care of Linda.
"She fainted at the field," he explained. "The hot sun and the crowd, I expect." He did not want to speak of Ted Mackay before her, while she felt so ill. "So if you'll take Linda up to her room, Miss Carlton, I'll tell Kitty what I know—and tell you later."
The words aroused Linda's aunt immediately, and she lost interest in the necklace temporarily. What were a few pearls, anyway, in comparison to her precious girl? She hurried her off to bed, and Ralph turned to Kitty and Maurice.
"You see it was this way," he began, and Kitty stamped her foot in exasperation.
"Don't be so slow, Ralph!" she commanded.
"Why, here comes Linda's father!" interrupted Maurice, as another taxi stopped at the bungalow. "What do you think of that?"
Kitty looked vexed. Another interruption! But Ralph was already on his feet, greeting him, and explaining the absence of Linda and her aunt.
"And I was just going to tell Kitty about our pursuit of the thief," he added, "so if you care to hear the story, Mr. Carlton, perhaps you will sit here with us?"
The older man was glad to comply with the request. Naturally, anything that was connected with Linda's first flights was of paramount interest to him.
So, in spite of Kitty's impatience, her brother began the story with the day that he and Linda received their licenses, and ended it with the latter's identification of Ted Mackay, unconscious on the stretcher in the ambulance.
"Mackay!" repeated Mr. Carlton, shaking his head knowingly. "So he was the brains of the crime!"
"I'm afraid so, sir. And I'm afraid that's what made Linda faint."
"Of course it is! She believed in that fellow. But I warned her not to trust him. You see his father worked for me out in Texas and he's an unprincipled fellow. Stole from everybody—not only myself, but even the rest of the help. And got into a mix-up with some Mexicans, and turned them against me.... Yes, it must run in the family. The father may even be in on this necklace robbery. I don't know where he is now."
"That explains a good deal," mused Ralph, who had been listening thoughtfully. "I never did like Ted Mackay." He would not admit even to himself that jealousy was the main reason for this dislike. "Besides, Linda probably told him about the Midsummer Ball, and our carrying Kit's necklace to Green Falls. I thought it was funny if that other chap caught on so quickly."
"Did Linda see much of Mackay while she was at the school?" her father asked, sharply.
"I can't say that, although I wasn't always with her. Towards the end of our time we did so much solo flying, that when I was up in the air I didn't know where she was, although she was usually up too—in another plane. But one time I did find her in a pretty intimate conversation—and that was right before we left. She probably told him then."
"Too bad! Too bad!" muttered Mr. Carlton, regretfully. He was wishing now that he had sent Linda to some other flying school.
At this moment, Miss Carlton, having left Linda asleep in her room, came out on the porch to see her young guests. She showed no surprise at finding her brother; for fifteen years she had been accustomed to having him drop in when least expected, without a moment's notice.
"Well, Tom," was all that she said, as she presented her cheek for his brotherly kiss. "I suppose these children have told you the news."
"Yes, and if you don't mind, Emily, I think I'll drive over with them to see Mr. Clavering," he added, for the young people had all risen, and were showing signs of departure. "I'd like to have a talk with him—at least if you'll excuse me."
"Certainly," replied his sister. "And will you be back in time for dinner?"
"I'll come home in half an hour," stated her brother, laughing, for he always teased her about her insistence upon his promptness.
It was natural that he should want to meetKitty's parents, that he might at least offer to do his part in trying to recover or make good the girl's loss.
But Mr. Clavering seemed to take the matter almost lightly.
"Of course it's too bad," he said, "but as long as it is only a theft, and not an injury to one of the children, I think it's foolish to worry. And, after all, we may get insurance."
"Mayget insurance?" repeated Mr. Carlton, frowning. "Why shouldn't you get it? I thought that was what insurance was for!"
"I'm afraid ordinary insurance will not cover travel by air," explained the other man.
At these words his daughter burst into tears. Her last hope was gone!
"I never thought of that," said Mr. Carlton, gravely. "That makes a difference.... Well, Mr. Clavering, in that case, I guess we had better divide the obligation. I'll raise my twenty-five thousand—the necklace was worth fifty, I understand—as soon as I can."
"You'll do nothing of the sort!" protested the other, firmly. "Your daughter was not the least bit at fault. It was natural for her to try her stunts—she wouldn't be human if she didn't! I put the whole blame upon Ralph."
"No! No——"
"Yes, yes! I won't hear anything else. But we'll wait and give the detectives time. If we have caught the leader, as you and Ralph think, it ought to be an easy matter to locate the accomplice. At least, provided Mackay doesn't die."
"That's true!" exclaimed Ralph. "I never thought of that. We better get over to the hospital to see him as soon as possible."
"How about tomorrow morning?" suggested Mr. Carlton. "I'd like to go with you, my boy—I've had some experience in dealing with criminals, ever since the episode with Mackay's father."
"I'll be delighted to have you," replied Ralph. "And in the meantime, I'll call my detective and put him on the other man's trail."
So while Linda slept peacefully at home, her father and her best boy friend made plans to verify their suspicions against Ted Mackay, lying helpless in the hospital, twenty-five miles from Green Falls.
When Ted Mackay opened his eyes at the hospital the following morning, he did not know where he was. Although he had regained consciousness when the orderlies brought him in from the ambulance the day before, it had not lasted long. An anesthetic was immediately administered, for it was necessary to cut into his arm, and later a drug was given to make him sleep. So, for the moment, he could not understand why he was here—in a ward, undoubtedly, judging from the long row of cots against the wall.
A dull aching pain in his arm and shoulder made him glance suspiciously at his left side. They were bandaged, of course. And then suddenly he remembered.
He had been sent out with a new plane, from his company in Kansas City, to make delivery to a purchaser in Buffalo. Just before he left, a radio message had been received from theSpring City Flying School, asking all pilots and mechanics to look out for a stolen Waco. Naturally, Ted remembered the plane.
He had been flying quite low, to make certain tests with the plane he was delivering, over the fields beyond Green Falls, when he suddenly noticed a wreck. Complying with the regulations of the Department of Commerce, he descended in order to report the casualty and to render assistance, if possible. Smashed as it was, he recognized it immediately as the old Waco, which he had so often piloted at Spring City. He looked about for the pilot, dreading to find his shattered body in the cockpit.
He had been leaning over, peering into the bushes, when a gun went off at his back, hitting him on the left arm, near the shoulder. Reeling about sharply, he just had time to see a shabbily dressed man run for the new plane. And then everything went black; he couldn't recall what happened, or how he got to the hospital.
"The company's new plane!" he suddenly exclaimed aloud, attempting to sit up in his cot. "It's gone!"
He looked about helplessly for the nurse, for anybody, to verify his fears. But nobody came, although down the hall he could hearfootsteps of people busy on their early morning duties.
Warned by the pain in his shoulder, he sank back on his pillow to wait, and as he lay there quietly, he went back over the events of the past week that had been so eventful for him. He thought of Linda Carlton, of the pride and joy in her beautiful eyes when she had won her license. And of her farewell! A farewell that might easily be forever! Yet through no fault of his own, merely because his father had disgraced himself.
It had always been like that with Ted; it seemed as if his father had tried to spoil his whole life. Just when the boy was ready to enter High School, Mr. Mackay had been dismissed from his job for stealing from the cash-drawer of the store where he was employed. The judge had let him off, for he knew what a splendid woman Mrs. Mackay was, and Ted and his older sister had gone to work to pay the debt. It was hard sledding after that; Mr. Mackay wandered off, working now in one place and now in another, and Ted put off his hopes of study for a while. Then, just as the family were getting ahead, and Ted had started in at an aviation school, the man came back for more money. The last they heard of him wasa year ago, when he had written that he had a real job on a ranch in Texas. But evidently he had done something wrong there, or Mr. Carlton would not be so bitter against his son.
Ted's shoulder was hurting him badly, and his thoughts were not pleasant, so he uttered a weary sigh.
"Well! Well!" exclaimed a cheery voice at the door. "Is the world as sad as all that?"
Ted's mouth relaxed into a smile, the smile that had won him so many friends at the Spring City Flying School. He had not heard the nurse, a pretty probationer, who just entered the ward.
"How's the shoulder this morning?" she asked him brightly. "You're looking better, Mr. Mackay."
"I'm all right," replied Ted, wondering how she knew his name. "But can you give me any news of my plane?"
"Your plane was wrecked, wasn't it?" she inquired.
"No—I hope not! That was the other fellow's plane. The fellow that shot me."
"Oh, I see. Then there were two planes?"
"Certainly. Didn't you know?... You seem to know my name——"
"There were some letters in your pocket—don't you remember? And the address of a company in Kansas City.... But I don't think anybody realizes that there weretwoplanes—that you didn't wreck yours."
"Oh, but I wouldn't wreck a plane in that way!" he protested. "I think too much of them!" His face lighted up with the enthusiasm he always showed when he talked about flying. "But I've got to get to a telephone!" he added. "I must notify my company immediately of the loss."
"Probably your company knows all about it," she replied. "Anyway, you can't do anything now—except lie still while I take your temperature. And then eat your breakfast. After your wound is dressed—if the doctor agrees——"
"But I've got to get dressed right away! I want to notify them so that they can catch that bandit!"
"Yes, yes. In due time. You must be patient."
"You say they didn't know about that other fellow!" he cried, excitedly. "I tell you——"
He stopped suddenly, for he saw that his nurse had gone off to another cot. There was no use trying to argue with nurses, he learned, for they had to follow the rules laid down by the doctors and the hospital authorities.
So, for the next two hours he did exactly as he was told, not even making an attempt to dress. For his nurse had informed him that he must stay there at least another day.
He was dozing when a representative from his company called to see him. But the man urged the nurse not to disturb him, saying that he would come again the following morning. She told him what she knew of Ted's story, and of his anxiety over the stolen plane, and he promised to send out scouts in its pursuit.
Ted's next two visitors were not so thoughtful of his welfare. Mr. Carlton and Ralph Clavering, who made the trip unknown to Linda, arrived about eleven o'clock, and asked that the young man be awakened at once.
"I think you had better come back tomorrow, if you want to talk to Mr. Mackay," said the nurse, noticing that the two men were not any too friendly towards her patient, for they had not even inquired how he was. "He mustn't be disturbed."
"Then we'll wait until he wakes up," replied Mr. Carlton, firmly. "It's very important that we speak with him as soon as possible."
"You're from his company?" she asked.
"No, we're not."
"Just friends?"
"No."
"Then may I ask what reason you have for wishing to see Mr. Mackay at this particular time?"
"Business. Very important business. We think he is involved in the theft of a very expensive necklace."
"No!" cried the nurse, aghast. It couldn't be true! Why, she had never seen anybody with franker eyes or a more truthful, honest face than this young man with the wounded arm! There must be some mistake.
"Did he act as if he wanted to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible?" asked Ralph, shrewdly.
"Why, yes—but that was only natural. All men, especially young men, are impatient about staying here. Only last week, the day after a man was operated on for appendicitis, he said he had to get back to his office—he just had to! You should have heard him rave. We laughed at him."
"Well, we'll sit down here in the reception room and read the magazines," announced Mr. Carlton. "And you send us word when he wakes up."
There was nothing further she could do, but somehow she was against them. Already shewas on Ted's side. She didn't believe he was one of those wicked gangsters you read about in the papers. Why, he was only a boy! A boy tremendously interested in aviation. She could see his eyes shine when he talked about flying, and the absolute tragedy he believed it to be because, a fine plane had been wrecked. It seemed worse to him than being shot. Poor fellow! He would get well, of course, but was this going to cripple him so he wouldn't be able to fly?
About twelve o'clock, when it was time for the lunch trays to be brought in, he awakened. But the nurse had no intention of informing those two men in the waiting-room.
However, they did not wait to be informed. Perhaps Mr. Carlton suspected that the nurse was against him, or perhaps it was merely that he knew that he hadn't much longer to stay—it was imperative that he return to his ranch that night. Anyway, he and Ralph strolled down the hall and found Ted eating his lunch. They walked right into the ward without asking the nurse's permission.
"How d'do, Mackay," said Mr. Carlton, briefly. "How's your wound?"
"Better, thank you, sir," replied Ted, smiling. He had recognized Linda's father instantly,and a feeling of joy surged through him. What a decent thing for the man to do! Probably Linda had heard of his accident, and asked him to come to inquire for him. Of course he was totally unaware of the loss of the pearls; he had no idea that the thief who had taken the two planes had done so for the sole purpose of stealing a necklace.
Remembering Ralph, too, he managed to smile at him also.
"You certainly managed to wreck your plane," remarked Mr. Carlton, not knowing exactly how to begin. "You're in luck that you weren't killed!"
"I didn't wreckmyplane, sir," corrected Ted, quietly. "It was the fellow who shot me that wrecked his—or rather the school's, for he had stolen it from the Spring City Flying School, you know. Then he shot at me, and flew off in my plane."
"Oh, is that so?" Mr. Carlton, raised his brows, and his eyes narrowed. He didn't believe a word of it.
"And—er—how did you and this thief happen to be together?" he inquired.
"I was taking a new plane to Buffalo, and flying low, making some tests, when I spotted the wreck. So I brought mine down."
"You knew, then, that he had stolen Miss Clavering's pearls?"
"What?" cried Ted, starting upright in bed, and then, shocked by the pain from his sudden movement, dropping back to his pillow.
"You never heard of a valuable pearl necklace that this young man was carrying from Spring City to his sister, by my daughter's plane?" persisted Mr. Carlton. His tone was mocking, insulting.
"On my honor, Mr. Carlton——"
"Come now, Mackay," interrupted Ralph. "Why not make a clean breast of it? We know you—or this other fellow—heard Linda and me discussing it at the field, and we know you used him as an accomplice. We saw him hanging around outside——"
"You are making a big mistake, Mackay," put in Mr. Carlton, "if you don't confess everything now. I'd be willing to give you another chance—if you tell us how you can get a hold of that fellow, and get the necklace back. I know you weren't brought up right—it's not exactly your fault if you don't know right from wrong——"
But this was too much for Ted to bear. The man was insulting his mother! If he hadn't been Linda's father, Ted would have struckhim, crippled though he was. Instead, overpowered by nervous exhaustion, he let out a terrific scream that at least stopped the abuse.
"I do know right from wrong!" he cried. "My mother is the finest woman that ever lived, and she knew what to teach her children! What you say is a lie!"
By this time everybody in the ward was looking and listening in breathless interest, and the head nurse, attracted by the noise, stopped in the corridor.
"You men will leave at once," she commanded, from the doorway, and Mr. Carlton, who was so used to giving orders to others, found that for once he had to obey. He and Ralph picked up their hats and were gone without another word.
After that, Ted was quite ill. His temperature went up, and he became delirious. The little nurse was both angry and remorseful. It was her fault, she thought, for not keeping those dreadful men out. Accusing an innocent boy like her patient!
The visitors, however, went away dismayed. They hadn't proved a thing.
"Unfortunately I have to leave tonight right after dinner," said Mr. Carlton, as Ralph drove him back to his sister's. "I guess we'll have toturn the whole thing over to the detectives."
"Well, we'll see what Greer and his men can do," replied the other. "One good thing, Mackay can't get away from us, crippled as he is. And the other fellow is such a poor pilot that he'll crash sooner or later."
"If he doesn't get out of the country first," muttered Mr. Carlton, dolefully.
"What does Linda think about the affair?" inquired Ralph, for he had not seen the girl since her aunt helped her to go to bed the preceding afternoon.
"I don't know. I haven't seen her. She was still asleep when I left this morning."
"I imagine she believes Mackay guilty. That's what knocked her over so yesterday."
"Well, she'll get over that," returned her father, briefly. And he invited Ralph to come into the house for luncheon.
The young man, however, had the good taste to decline. It would be a ticklish situation at best—and besides, Linda ought to have some time to be alone with her father, if he were leaving so soon.
"But tell Linda I'll be over after dinner," he added. "The bunch is planning a canoe party."
Never in her life did Linda remember being so exhausted as she had been on the evening of her flight to Green Falls. With her Aunt Emily's help she had somehow gotten into bed, and eaten the supper of milk-toast which the maid had brought to her.
Inside of an hour she was fast asleep, not to awaken until eleven o'clock the following morning, although her aunt, still a little worried about her fainting, was in and out of her room three times. It was upon the last occasion that she finally opened her eyes.
"Oh, such a good sleep, Aunt Emily!" she murmured, contentedly.
"Do you feel better, dear?" inquired the other.
"Just fine, thanks. And hungry."
"I'll have Anna bring you up some fruit, and then you can have lunch with us. Or would you rather have a regular breakfast in bed?"
"Just the fruit, please, Aunt Emily," replied Linda. How kind, how thoughtful, her aunt always was! No real mother could ever be more so. "You are so good to me, Auntie!" she cried, impulsively catching the older woman's hand.
"And you're always so appreciative, dear," responded her aunt, affectionately. "I don't think most young girls are like you. They just expect their parents to do everything. Older people like thanks."
"I guess everybody likes to be thanked, when they deserve it...." She jumped out of bed, and slipped into a chiffon negligee that hung over the chair. "And now I'll hurry with my bath!"
"Yes, dear—because your father arrived yesterday, after you had gone to bed. He'll be here for lunch, but he has to leave right after supper."
"Is he downstairs now?" asked Linda, excitedly.
"I don't know whether he has come in or not. He went somewhere with Ralph this morning."
"With Ralph?"
"Yes. Something about the theft, I believe.... Well, dear, I'll send up some raspberries—or would you rather have cantaloupe?"
"Cantaloupe, I think, Aunt Emily," replied Linda, as Miss Carlton left the room.
Some of the happiness with which Linda awoke seemed to vanish at her aunt's statement about her father and Ralph. She had forgotten for the moment about the necklace—that airplane accident, and the shock of finding Ted Mackay. What could it all mean? Was Ted really involved in the affair?
By this time her father must know about him, since her Aunt Emily said he was with Ralph. What were they up to now? If Ted really were in league with the thief, would they put him in prison too? She hated the thought of such a thing—it did not seem possible. Surely, there must be some explanation. All of a sudden she longed fiercely to see the boy, to hear the story from his own lips. But he was in a hospital, unconscious—perhaps dying!
Anna came in with the cantaloupe as Linda finished her bath, and she sat on the edge of the bed to eat it. She made a pretty picture, her soft curly hair damp from the water, her cheeks pink with color after the cold shower, her charming blue negligee wrapped about her slender figure. She looked like a lady of leisure enjoying her late breakfast as if it were a regular thing; not an aviation student who arose every morning at seven o'clock and put in a hard day's work at school.
When she entered the living-room, she found her father there waiting for her. She was all in white now, white linen sports suit, and white shoes. He held out his arms invitingly, and she leaped gracefully into his lap.
"Daddy dear!"
"Linda!"
"You didn't mind my not waking up for supper last night, did you?" she asked, after she had kissed him. "I would have been too tired to talk."
"Of course not! It was the wisest thing to do. Sometimes when you force yourself to keep awake after a strain like that, you find you cannot go to sleep again. But you're rested now?"
"Fresh as a freshman," she replied, laughing.
"And I'm mighty proud of my little girl," he added, affectionately, "for passing your examination and flying all the way up here without any mishaps."
Linda's face grew sober, and her eyelids fluttered.
"But—I didn't, Daddy. You—you heard about the necklace?"
"Yes. That was too bad, but I can't see that it was in any way your fault. You'd be a queer flyer if you didn't want to test your knowledge."
"Then you don't really blame me?" she asked eagerly. Her father's approval had always meant so much to her.
"Of course not. It was the boy's carelessness. He agrees with me, and so do his father and mother. I went over to see them last night."
"Ralph hasn't heard anything more, has he?" she asked anxiously. How she longed for news of Ted! But she was afraid to mention his name to her father.
Mr. Carlton, however, answered her unspoken wish.
"No," he said. "We drove over to see Mackay at the hospital this morning, and tried to talk to him. But he wouldn't admit a thing. He became hysterical when we accused him, and the nurse had to ask us to go away. We're as much in the dark as ever."
Linda got up quietly and went over to a chair. Somehow she wouldn't sit on her father's lap when he held such widely different opinions from her own. But Mr. Carlton did not seem to notice that she had gone. He sat perfectly still, thinking.
"You really believe Ted—Mr. Mackay—had a part in the horrible thing?" she asked, dismally.
"I don't think there is a doubt of it."
"But how do you explain the fact that he was shot? Surely, if he and this thief were working together, one wouldn't shoot the other!"
Her father shook his head, and smiled indulgently. What a child she was! What did she know about the wickedness of criminals?
"I'm sorry to tell you, dear, that in spite of that old proverb about there being honor among thieves, there isn't much. They are so utterly selfish and unprincipled that if one finds that his pal is getting the better of him, he doesn't hesitate to wound—and oftentimes kill—the other. If Mackay was making off with the necklace, and this other fellow saw that all his work had been for nothing, one could hardly blame him for shooting.... No, I'm afraid that doesn't prove a thing."
Linda sighed; everything seemed hopelessly black for Ted.
"Will they put him in jail?" she asked.
"Whom?"
"Mr. Mackay."
"Of course, when he is well enough. Our detectives will see to that. We can't actually convict him till we have more evidence. But we can force him to tell what he knows about this other thief."
A lump came into Linda's throat, and she felt as if she couldn't talk any more. For the time being, even her interest in her plane was gone. It had brought so much unhappiness—first to Kitty, and now to Ted Mackay.
She was thankful when her aunt came into the room, to take her mind from her morbid thoughts. At the same time, Anna announced luncheon.
"What are you planning to do this afternoon, dear?" inquired her Aunt Emily, as she ate her iced fruit-cup. "Because I want part of your time."
"Certainly, Aunt Emily. But tell me, have you decided you would like to go up in the Pursuit?"
"No, no—nothing like that. I want to live a little while longer, dear—Green Falls is so pleasant! But, seriously," she added, "I do want you to do something for me. I want you to try on your costume for the Midsummer Ball. I had to order it without asking you, dear, for of course you were too busy learning to fly, and it hadn't come when we left SpringCity. But I think it is very charming—and I hope you will like it."
"I'm sure I shall. But, Aunt Emily, I could have worn my flyer's suit, and saved you all that trouble."
"You're going to get tired enough of that suit, attractive though it is. Besides, everybody would know you. And I like you to look especially pretty—in fluffy, feminine things. I have chosen the costume of Queen Mab for you."
"Oh, that will be adorable!" cried Linda, her eyes sparkling with pleasure, for she too loved dainty things.
"And may I see you when you are trying it on?" put in Mr. Carlton "Your mother once wore something like that in a fairy play—and she was very beautiful. I'd like to see whether you remind me of her."
"Certainly, Daddy. I'll put it on right after lunch. And then I'll do whatever you want. Take you up for a ride, if you would like it."
"I think you're too tired for that," he replied. "No—I'll wait till the next time I come. Besides, the mechanics ought to have a chance to go over your motor before you fly it again. Don't forget the promises you made to me."
"I won't forget, Daddy. I'll telephone over to the airport this afternoon."
"By the way, daughter, have you ever tried jumping with a parachute? Did they make you do that at school?"
At his question, Miss Carlton suddenly stopped eating and gazed at the girl in terror. Surely Linda would not do such a hazardous thing as that!
"Yes, Daddy," replied Linda, blushing, for she did not want to say anything about her jump with Ted Mackay. "Lieutenant Kingsberry himself was with me. Mr. Taylor didn't want to let me try it—I don't think he has much use for girls who want to fly—so I went straight to the Lieutenant. He went up with me himself."
"Wasn't it a dreadful experience?" asked her aunt, with a shudder.
"No—not terrible at all. I felt a little queer before the parachute opened, but after that it was delightful. Just softly floating down from the skies. I loved it."
"Well, I'm glad you did it," remarked her father. "Because now you won't be afraid if you ever have to."
"I am hoping I won't have to—with my Pursuit. Not that I'd be afraid, but because it would be the end of my plane. Think of just leaving it alone, to crash!"
"It would be too bad, of course—but I could buy you another plane. We couldn't buy another daughter, could we, Emily?" he asked his sister.
"Don't talk about it!" begged Miss Carlton, miserably.
"All right," agreed Linda. "Suppose Daddy tells me what he would like to do this afternoon—after I try on the costume."
"Sure you don't want to be with your young friends?" he inquired.
"I'll have all the rest of the summer for them."
"Then let's go for a little drive in your roadster. Out to some pretty road. And come back in time to go swimming with your crowd."
"I'd love that, Daddy!" she exclaimed. Then, turning to her aunt, "But is my car here, Aunt Emily? Did Thomas bring it up all right?"
It was strange indeed, that she had forgotten to ask about it. Always before she had driven it herself, while Thomas, the chauffeur took charge of her aunt's limousine. This time he had hired a friend to drive the other, and brought hers himself.
"Yes, he drove it up yesterday," replied her aunt.
The hours that followed would have been very pleasant for Linda, had she not felt underneath her cheeriness, a growing anxiety about Ted Mackay. After their little outing, she and her father put on their bathing-suits and joined the group at the lake. In the diving, the racing, the polo game, Mr. Carlton proved a match for the young people; indeed he was the ringleader in suggesting tricks to the more daring members of the crowd. Even Louise, who had always stood somewhat in awe of him because he was sterner than her own parents, had to admit that he was a good sport.
Ralph, who had not counted upon seeing Linda until evening, was delighted to find her at the lake, and tried immediately to date her as his partner for the canoe trip of the evening. But Linda shyly refused, telling him that her aunt was one of the chaperons, and the only partner she was willing to have. She shrank from the thought of talking to Ralph about Ted, or the robbery; she decided not to see him alone.
Early after supper Mr. Carlton departed in a taxi, and Linda and her aunt drove over to Louise's bungalow to join the group for the canoe trip. There were a dozen young peoplebesides themselves, and Mr. and Mrs. Haydock, too. Six canoes had been chartered.
"Canoeing will seem kind of tame after flying, I guess," remarked Dot Crowley, as the young people walked over to the lake. "By the way, how soon will you take me for a fly?"
"Anybody might take you for a fly," remarked Maurice Stetson. "You buzz around so!"
Linda smiled, but she answered Dot's question immediately. Maybe the latter was as keen about airplanes as she was herself! You never could tell.
"In a few days," she said. "For the time being I want to hold myself and my plane in readiness to chase that thief—if we ever get the chance!"
"You still worrying about those pearls?" inquired Maurice, lightly.
"Naturally," answered Linda.
"Well, I command you to forget it. Kitty'll soon get over it. Anybody as beautiful as Kit is, doesn't need pearls. Besides, when she marries me, I'll buy her a bigger string!"
"You meanif, notwhen, don't you?" countered Kitty. But she was evidently in high spirits again, thanks perhaps to the young man who made no secret of this adoration.
There wasn't much opportunity for conversation, however. Jim Valier had brought his mandolin, and from the moment when the canoes pushed off until they were tied at the opposite side of the lake, where the young people made a fire and toasted marshmallows, everybody sang. Linda naturally joined in with the music, but only with her lips. Her heart was still heavy with the misfortune the preceding day had brought.
On the way home she made up her mind to telephone the hospital the following morning. At least she could inquire about Ted—and maybe—oh, how she hoped it would be possible—she could speak with him, and hear from his own lips the explanation of his connection with the unfortunate robbery.
For the first time in her life, Linda Carlton was thankful that her father was not at home. He would object to her calling Ted at the hospital, but now it was impossible to ask his permission. Nevertheless, she was trembling when she took off the receiver and gave the hospital's number.
"Mr. Mackay left last night," the attendant told her, "to go to his home. He was very much better."
"Oh!" exclaimed Linda, hopefully. That was good news indeed. But she wanted to learn more.
"Would it be possible for me to talk to his nurse?" she inquired. "I really have something important to ask."
The attendant hesitated; it was not their custom to call nurses from their duties to answer inquiries about their patients. But Linda's voice was so eager that the man decided for once to waive the rule.
"If you will hold the line a minute," hesaid, "I will see whether she is busy. You don't know which nurse it was?"
"No. Probably one of the ward nurses."
Linda was forced to wait several minutes, but in the end she was rewarded. A cheerful girl's voice informed her that its owner had taken charge of Ted Mackay while he was at the hospital.
"But are you a friend or an enemy of Mr. Mackay, Miss——?" she inquired, cautiously. "Carlton is my name," answered Linda. "And I am a friend."
"I'm glad to hear that. Mr. Mackay is such a nice boy that it is a shame he has to have enemies.... Now, what can I do for you?"
"Tell me what you know of his story," replied Linda. "You see I only know that he was shot and that his enemies are trying to connect him with a thief who stole a valuable necklace. I know it can't be true. It just can't!" She was talking rapidly, excitedly. "I knew if I could see him he could explain everything. But he's gone!"
"Yes, he went home last night. To his mother's. But I can tell you the facts, for he told me the whole story. He was piloting another plane—for his company—and spotted a wreck. It proved to be this thief, who evidently wasn'thurt by the crash, and so shot Mr. Mackay and made off in his new plane. It seems perfectly simple to me. I don't see how anybody could possibly accuse Mr. Mackay, when he was actually wounded himself."
"How does his company feel about it?" asked Linda.
"Same as we do. He is to go back to his job in a day or two, as soon as he feels rested."
"Thank goodness!" cried Linda. "Then everything is O.K. Oh, you can't know how thankful I am! And so grateful to you!"
"You're entirely welcome," concluded the young nurse, pleased to have been of some help.
Linda began to sing as she replaced the receiver, and she went out on the porch in search of her aunt. She just had to tell somebody about Ted's innocence, and the weight which had been taken from her heart at the nurse's reassuring words. Miss Carlton had not heard any particulars about the story; indeed she scarcely knew who Ted Mackay was. So, omitting the parachute jump, Linda began at the beginning and related everything she knew about him, since that day last April when she had met him at the Red Cross Fair, and he had promised to take her up in an airplane.
"And you don't think he's wicked, just because his father is, do you, Aunt Emily?" she asked, anxiously.
"No, of course not, dear. It wouldn't be fair to jump to any such conclusion as that. Every human being has a right to be judged on his own merits—not his parents'."
"That's what I think," agreed Linda. "But Daddy says——"
"Hello, everybody!" interrupted a gay young voice from the hedge in front of the bungalow, and, turning about, Linda saw Ralph Clavering striding up the path.
"Hello!" she answered, trying to make her voice cordial. Such a handsome boy, so charming—why did he have to be so unfair to Ted? Poor Ted, who had never had one-tenth of Ralph's advantages!
"I've got news!" he cried, as he took the steps two at a time, and swung into a chair.
"About the necklace?" demanded Miss Carlton, immediately.
"Yes. From our detectives. They have spotted a gas-station that sold a can of gasoline to a red-headed fellow who said he wanted it for an airplane."
"Really, Ralph!" exclaimed Linda, scornfully. "You don't call that news, do you? Theremust be plenty of red-haired pilots in our part of the country."
"I know. But that isn't all. This agent carried the gas over in his car to a field where the plane was waiting, and he says there was another chap in it who answered the description of our thief."
"Was the plane a Waco?" questioned Linda, keenly.
"The fellow wasn't sure, but when Greer described it, he thought it was."
"And is that all?" Miss Carlton's tone showed disappointment.
"'Is that all?'" repeated Ralph, in amazement. "Why, that's plenty!"
"I don't see how that will help you to catch your thief," remarked the woman.
"But it will! Greer has telephoned the hospital, and located Mackay today. If he really has gone home, as he said, and hasn't run away, he'll be put through a third degree that'll make him tell where the thief is hiding. Because he must be hiding. He couldn't go very far on the gas in that plane, and all the airports and gasoline stations have been warned to watch out for him."
Linda's eyes were blazing with anger. How could Ralph be so prejudiced, so cruel?
"But Ted doesn't know any more about that thief than we do!" she protested, vehemently. "I talked with his nurse this morning—and she knew all about it. Ted met that thief by accident!"
"By accident is right," remarked Ralph, with a scornful smile. "But never mind, Linda—don't you worry about it any more. Let's talk about the masque ball tonight. You're going with me, aren't you?"
"I certainly am not!" announced the girl, haughtily. "I wouldn't go with anybody who could be so unfair——".
"Children!" interrupted Miss Carlton, distressed at their inclination to quarrel. She had been so happy about the friendship between Ralph and Linda—it was eminently right! When her niece did decide to get married—though she hoped such an event was still far off—she couldn't imagine any young man who would suit her so well as Ralph Clavering. Such family! Such social position! And plenty of money! For Miss Carlton was always afraid that sometime her brother might lose his. He was so careless about it, he spent it so recklessly upon both his sister and his daughter. And, though the older woman had enough of her own securely invested in bonds to take careof her old age, she feared for Linda. Educated as she had been at that expensive private school, she was in no way trained to earn a living. She did not dream that Linda would be only too delighted to go into aviation as if she were a boy on her own responsibility—like Ted Mackay!
"If I admit I'm jealous of Redhead, and say I'm sorry," conceded Ralph, "will you forgive me and go to the dance with me tonight?"
His beautiful dark eyes were pleading, and for a moment Linda almost weakened, thinking of all their experiences together, and especially that moment when they both had thought they were so happy, in regaining the box that supposedly held the necklace. But she remembered Ted, and the cruel gruelling he would be subjected to very soon, because of Ralph's suspicions, and she closed her lips tightly.
"Not unless you promise to call off your detectives from Ted Mackay," she pronounced, firmly.
"But I can't do that—couldn't now, even if I wanted to. It's too late."
"Then I'm not going to the party with you."
"But Linda, dear," put in Miss Carlton, going towards the screen door in her embarrassment at being a witness to the quarrel,"it's too late to arrange to go with anybody else. All the other girls already have their partners!"
"I'll go with you, Auntie!" replied the girl, complacently. "Lots of girls go with their parents."
"Very well," agreed her aunt, disappearing into the living-room, with the unpleasant thought that it was only the unpopular girls who were forced into such a situation.
As soon as she had gone, Ralph came over to Linda's chair. But he was afraid to touch even her hand—she looked so aloof and determined.
"Linda—after all we've been to each other——" he began.
She stood up, holding her head high.
"I think you'll have to excuse me, Ralph," she said. "I'm very busy."
"All right," he returned, sullenly. "Have it your own way, then! I'll get Louise to go with me."
"Very well. Good-by." Her tone was icy; she did not even offer to shake hands with him.
Ralph turned and hurried down the steps, angry at himself for pleading so hard, angrier at her for being so cold. No girl ever thoughtof treating him—Ralph Clavering—like that before! The very idea! Most young ladies would be only too delighted at his invitation! And all for the sake of a penniless, dishonest, red-headed pilot! For Ralph had not yet learned that there were some things which he could not buy with his father's millions.
So he strode to the nearest telephone booth, and called Louise Haydock who, although she was flattered by the invitation, did not immediately accept. She had already promised Harriman Smith, and she so informed Ralph.
"Well, there isn't any law that says a girl can't go with two men, is there?" he demanded. "If she happens to be popular enough! Can't we all three go together?"
"Why aren't you going with Linda?" inquired Louise, shrewdly.
"We've quarreled," he admitted.
"Then make it up!" she advised. "Pull yourself together, Ralph—and apologize."
"I tried to, but it was no good. No, we're off!"
"Then Linda hasn't any partner?"
"She says she's going with her aunt," muttered Ralph.
"Oh, that won't do!" exclaimed Louise."Wait, Ralph, I'll fix everything. I'll get Harry to take Linda—he's crazy about her anyhow—and then I'll go with you."
"O.K., Lou. You're the little sport!"
"And fixer," added the girl, to herself, as she bade Ralph good-by, and called first Harry and then Miss Carlton.
Louise's suggestion seemed like an act of Providence to the older woman; it would have been mortifying indeed to her to have Linda appear at the ball without a masculine escort, as if the girl were a mere wallflower. Harriman Smith had been most agreeable about the whole arrangement; anything Louise decided suited him, he told her. And Linda, too, was delighted with the news.
She came out of her bedroom while her aunt was talking on the telephone, dressed in her flyer's suit.
"Where are you going dear?" inquired Miss Carlton, in anxious surprise.
"I'm going scouting," explained Linda. "I think I'll fly around—pretty low—and look for wrecks. I have a hunch that that thief has smashed his plane by now. He was such a poor pilot, you know I told you."
"Well, be careful," cautioned her aunt. "But so long as you fly low, I won't worry."
Linda smiled to herself. If Aunt Emily only realized how infinitely more dangerous it was to fly low than high!
She found her Pursuit in perfect condition, and had it taken to the runway, where she taxied off without the least difficulty. She climbed to about fifteen hundred feet, and flew over past the hospital and the field where the Waco had been smashed. Then she carefully came lower, using her glasses to watch the ground as she flew.
The country was open—there were no buildings and few trees, so she felt safe in keeping within sight of the ground. She was flying along confidently, when suddenly a long pole seemed almost on top of her. Swerving sharply upward, she just avoided striking some wires that the pole was supporting.
"Oh!" she gasped. "What a lucky break! Suppose I hadn't had a foolproof plane!" For she knew that her Arrow had been designed especially for amateurs like herself.
"Crazy of me to fly so near to the ground!" she exclaimed, in self-contempt. "After all the warnings I've had! I deserve a crash!" And she continued to climb upward to safety.
As she flew onward, steadying her thoughts, she decided that it was senseless to try tohunt the thief with a plane. If she wanted to look for him it would be much more reasonable to use her car—or to hike. So she abandoned that project entirely.
But as she continued her flight towards Green Falls, it suddenly occurred to her that she might help Ted in another way. She could establish his alibi for him—by means of his company! That red-haired man that the agent claimed he saw with the thief couldn't have been Ted, and she would take means of proving it. Then, if Ralph's detectives insisted upon throwing him into prison, there would be a way to have him released.
So she flew back to the airport, confident that her morning had not been entirely wasted, and, to her aunt's relief, she arrived home in time for lunch.
The gay young set at Green Falls to which Linda belonged had planned nothing for that afternoon except the regular swim, for the ball would be late, and the donning of their costumes would take a good deal of time. Linda, however, even passed up the swim in favor of a nap, for she was very tired. Besides, she had no desire to meet Ralph at the lake or anywhere else.
Like all the social affairs at this charming resort, the masque ball—the greatest event of the season, with the possible exception of the field day at the close—began early. Dinner at the Carltons was over by half-past seven, and, after assuring herself that Linda's costume was to her satisfaction, Miss Carlton left the bungalow. She was a patroness, of course, and she wanted to get to the Casino early, to pass final judgment upon the decorations and the music.
Harriman Smith arrived at half-past eight,in a taxi, for as one of the poorer members of the crowd, he did not possess a car of his own. Linda, in the filmy dress of the fairy queen, with a crown of golden stars about her hair, welcomed him into the bungalow.
"Linda!" exclaimed the young man, in positive awe. "I never saw anyone so beautiful in my whole life!"
She smiled shyly, pleased at the compliment. But of course as yet he had not seen the other girls in their costumes!
"It's the dress," she explained modestly. "If there's any credit, it should go to Aunt Emily. She selected it.... I like your costume, too, Harry. You're Robin Hood, aren't you?"
"Yes—I'm glad you can recognize me, anyway.... But Linda, seriously, I just know you'll take the prize for the most beautiful woman!"
"I didn't know there was a prize."
"Of course there is. And for the most handsome man. And the best dancers—and the funniest.... Probably some more I don't remember.... But I guess you never think much about prizes."
"I do about some prizes," she admitted. "Cups for endurance flights, and high altitudes—and things like that!"
"Naturally—trust you to be up on anything connected with airplanes. I suppose you'll be winning some of them yourself sometime. But when it comes to social events——"
"Well, you're often the same way, Harry," she teased. "Look at the parties you passed up last winter, just because of your engineering course!"
The boy smiled, not at all displeased by the observation, for he was a youth who took his studies seriously. Unlike Maurice Stetson and Ralph Clavering, who seemed interested only in the fraternities and the sports at college, he went there with the idea of working. And he liked Linda all the better for recognizing his ambition and understanding it.
"But we oughtn't to stand here talking, forgetting all about your taxi," Linda reminded her companion. "Why don't you dismiss it, and take my car?"
"A queen mustn't drive!" he protested. "And you wouldn't like me to run your car——"
"I don't mind you, Harry. You're never careless. It's people like Maurice that I can't bear to see handle it."
"I don't blame you one bit," he said, and realizing that she would really prefer to goin her own roadster, he did as she suggested.
All the way to the Casino they both carefully avoided any mention of Kitty Clavering's loss, or, in fact, of anything distasteful—even the quarrel with Ralph and the change of plans which had thrown them together as partners. Linda asked him how the different members of the crowd had paired off, and Harry told her as much as he had happened to learn at the lake that afternoon. Kit and Maurice were of course going together, and Dot Crowley and Jim Valier—the smallest and the tallest members of their set. Sara Wheeler had promised Jackson Stiles, and Harry seemed to recall that Sue Emery was accompanying Joe Sinclair. He did not mention Louise and Ralph.
It was just a little before nine when they reached the Casino, gayly lighted with Japanese lanterns, and decorated with flowers and streamers. The wide French windows of the dance hall were all thrown open, and the huge verandas were as beautifully lighted as the inside of the Casino. Strains of music floated out from the orchestra, which was already in place. Upstairs there would be bridge tables for the older members of the party and the supper would be served on the roof-garden.
As the couple entered the wide doors of theCasino, a surging of pride swept through the young man because of the girl at his side. In spite of her mask, people must recognize Linda Carlton, so stately, so lovely, so charming! With what wisdom her aunt had chosen that costume! The girl was every inch a queen.
In the dressing-room there was naturally a great deal of excitement, for the girls were all trying to identify each other. Linda spotted Louise immediately—dressed as an Egyptian Princess. Her costume was unusual, daring; she stood out among all the others as a sunflower might among a bunch of spring blossoms. And of course she wore huge, odd, earrings.
"Linda, you're sweet!" she cried, starting forward to kiss her chum, and stopping just in time as she remembered the make-up on her lips, and the amount of time she had consumed putting it there.
"Sh!" warned Linda. "Don't give me away!"
"I won't, darling. But everybody will know you anyhow. Come on—you couldn't possibly improve yourself! And we must hurry. I hear them lining up now for the grand march."
A laughing, happy group, the girls made their way back to the ballroom where their partners claimed them. It amused Linda—and yet it hurt her a little, too—to see Ralph Clavering lead Louise away without even seeming to notice her. But Harry Smith was right there too, as if to protect his partner from any unpleasantness.
The music of the grand march rolled out triumphantly, and the couples fell into step, circling the big room, and walking past the committee on the raised platform, whose members were to pass judgment on the costumes for the awarding of the prizes. As Linda walked demurely at Harry's side, past this intent, solemn body of men and women, she never lifted her eyes. She was all the more amazed when, a couple of minutes later, she heard a childish voice cry out above the music.
"Does 'ou fink me cute?" and, turning about, Linda recognized Dot Crowley, dressed as a little school-girl, and actually calling attention to herself. Of course everybody laughed; you just had to smile at Dot. And her long-legged partner, Jim Valier, dressed appropriately as Uncle Sam, looked so out-of-place at her side.
The costumes were really marvelous; if Linda had not come for any other reason than to see them, it would have been worth while. There were several hundred people at the ballthe proceeds of which were given entirely to charity, and though there were naturally many repetitions—numerous George and Martha Washingtons, Pierrots and Pierrettes, clowns and gypsies, there were also many unusual ones. But although she did not realize it, there was no one in that whole assembly so charmingly beautiful as Linda Carlton.
The grand march consumed almost an hour, after which the judges withdrew to make their decisions, and then the dancing began.
The floor was perfect and the music excellent; Linda fell into step with her partner and gave herself up to the enjoyment the pastime always afforded her. Whenever she had a good partner like Harry—or Ralph—she always experienced a marvelous sensation of floating along to the strains of the music, a sensation that somehow reminded her of flying. And then they passed Ralph and Louise, and Linda wondered whether the former would ask her to dance.
After that she danced with all the boys she knew, in turn—all except Ralph. Even when Harry managed a dance with Louise, while Linda was dancing with a stag, Ralph did not cut in. But this did not spoil her good time, for she felt that she had been in the right,championing Ted, even though her father was on the other side.
Ralph's avoidance of her niece had not escaped Miss Carlton's eyes, and she sighed. Why was there always some drawback to rich people, she wondered? But perhaps Ralph would get over his childishness when he grew older. And in the meantime Linda did not lack for attention.
Just before the party went up to the roof for supper, the prizes were awarded. Linda Carlton won first prize for the women—and, ludicrous as it was, Ralph Clavering, as King Arthur, was selected first among the men. They walked across the floor together, Linda giving him a shy smile. To Louise and Harry, and Miss Carlton, who knew about the tiff, the coincidence was very amusing.
Two other guests whom Linda did not know were awarded the prizes for the funniest costumes, and, to their own amazement, Louise and Ralph were called out as the couple who had given the best exhibition of dancing. There was no shyness as these two stepped forward. Ralph, looking roguish, held out his arms and whistled a tune, and as Louise slipped into them, they waltzed across the floor.
The supper was gorgeous in every detail:the food was excellent, the service perfect. Linda felt that she had never been to quite so magnificent a party before.
"You do like all this, don't you, Linda?" asked her partner, as they finished their ice-cream, molded in fancy forms, like small dolls or figurines, in pastel colors. "You really like parties? Because I sometimes wonder——"
"I love them," replied the girl, her eyes shining. "That is, when they come once or twice a summer, like this. But I would get awfully tired of them if I had nothing else."
"But next winter," he reminded her, "when you are a débutante——"
"I'm going to try not to be," she interrupted. "If I can slide out of it, without hurting Aunt Emily's feelings. I want to go to a ground school, and study aviation seriously."
"You mean make it your life work?" he asked, respectfully.
"Yes—seriously."
But it was no time to talk; the music had started again, and everybody wanted to make good use of the last, best hour of the party.
And so for all that evening, Linda Carlton was the care-free, popular girl that her Aunt Emily loved her to be.