"Yes. The thing fascinates me. I want a plane, too! I'm going to touch my Dad for one when I get home tonight!"
"But you've promised everybody you'll go to Green Falls!"
"So I will—August first!"
And so, much to Miss Carlton's delight, when the rest of the crowd left Spring City the following week, Ralph Clavering stayed at home with a couple of the servants, and enrolled at the same time as Linda, at the Spring City Flying School.
Early the next morning, Linda wakened her father and hurried him through his breakfast. There wasn't a moment to be lost, she told him excitedly, like a child waiting to open her Christmas stocking. She had her car under the portico before he had finished his second cup of coffee.
"Don't drive so fast that you are killed on the way," cautioned her aunt. "Remember, dear, you have the rest of your life to fly that plane!"
But the present moment is the only time of importance to young people, and Linda scarcely took in what she was saying. Besides, the caution was unnecessary; unlike Dot Crowley and Maurice Stetson, she had too much respect for her car to mistreat it by careless driving. Linda loved her roadster as a cavalry general loves his horse.
"You want to do most of your learning on your own plane, don't you, daughter?" asked her father, as he sat down beside her. "I mean—you'd rather bring your instructor back with us, and fly it, wouldn't you?"
"Of course, if that is possible. But don't you suppose I have to go in a class with others, Daddy?"
"Probably not—for it is a small school. Besides, I can arrange for you to have private lessons. It will hurry things up for you."
"Oh, thank you, Daddy!... But later, I want to go to a regular ground school, if you will let me." Her tone was as eager as any boy's, starting out on his life work. "And study airplane construction, and wireless—and—and——"
He smiled at her approvingly. What a girl!
"You are ambitious, my dear," he said, but there was pride in his words. "I don't see why not, though.... Only, not all at once. As your Aunt Emily reminded you, you have the rest of your life."
"I can't bear to fool!" she exclaimed, impatiently. "Now that I have graduated, I want to get somewhere."
"You're bound to—unless you fly in circles," he remarked, lightly.
"I mean—oh, you know what I mean, Daddy! And you do understand, don't you?"
"Well, not exactly. You don't expect to beone of those independent girls who insist upon earning their own living, do you, dear?"
"I don't know...." Somehow, she couldn't explain. Nobody understood just what she wanted except Ted Mackay, and that was because he had the same sort of goal himself. Ted Mackay! The memory of her father's command hurt her. Must she really give up his friendship? But why? She wanted to ask her father, but he was looking off in the distance, apparently lost in his own thoughts.
So she drove the remainder of the way in silence, absorbed by her own dreams.
The field was outside of Spring City, covering an area of thirty acres, and surrounded by the white fence that was now being used so much by airports. Three large hangars, containing probably half a dozen planes, occupied one side of the field, and, near the entrance was a large building, evidently used as an office and school for the theoretical part of the courses.
"You have been here before, Linda?" asked her father, as the girl locked her car.
"Yes—a couple of times. I feel almost at home."
Scarcely were they inside the grounds, when Ted Mackay, looking huge and handsome in hisflyer's suit, came out of the office building. He recognized Linda at once, and his blue eyes lighted up in a smile of welcome. Since he wore his helmet, his red hair was not visible, and Linda, glancing apprehensively at her father, knew that the latter had no idea who Ted was. But, nervous as she was over the meeting that was about to take place, she could not help feeling proud of Ted, and warmed by the frankness of his happy smile.
"Linda!" he cried. (She had called him Ted the second time she met him, so he reciprocated.) "I owe you an apology—and a confession!"
"Yes?" replied Linda, glancing fearfully at her father, though she knew that he had not yet realized who the young man was, or his expression would not have been so beneficent. "But first I want you to meet my father," she said. "Dad—this is Ted Mackay."
She was vexed at herself that she was actually stammering. Acting just like a child! Yet she couldn't forget how stern her father could be. She recalled the day that, as a child, she had sneaked off and played with Louise when her chum had whooping cough. Her father happened to come home—and announced that he would take care of her punishment. And what apunishment! For three whole weeks he made her stay in the house, without a single companion except her Aunt Emily! He said he'd teach her to obey.
But he wasn't storming, or even frowning now. Merely looking politely indifferent, perhaps a trifle superior. He made no motion to shake hands with Ted.
"How do you do?" he said. "Would you be kind enough to take us to the man in charge of this field?"
"Certainly, sir," replied Ted.
Immediately, as if he intended to give the young people no chance for personal conversation, Mr. Carlton began to ask about the courses that were offered.
Ted answered his questions, explaining that Miss Carlton would probably want to become a private pilot at first.
"You have to pass a physical examination," he said, "and get a permit from the Government. Then you must have at least eighteen hours of flying experience—ten with someone else with you, eight of solo flying. There is a written examination, too—all about the rules and regulations that make up the laws of the air. Of course there isn't a lot of traffic, like with the driving of cars," he explained, smilingly, "but you'd be surprised at how many rules there are!"
They had been crossing the field while he talked, and they stopped now at the main building. With a nod of dismissal that was curt, and yet not quite rude, for a muttered, "Thank you," accompanied it, Mr. Carlton left Ted, and took his daughter inside.
A middle-aged man, dressed in a khaki shirt and breeches, was seated at a desk. He looked up as they entered.
"My name is Carlton," began Linda's father, "and this is my daughter. I have bought her a plane, and I have come over to arrange about some lessons in flying."
Lieutenant Kingsberry, a former Army officer, asked them to be seated, and went over about the same explanation that Ted had given, saying that he would be delighted to register Linda, provided that she passed the physical examination.
"I suppose it is not so unusual now to have girls as students?" inquired Mr. Carlton.
"Not for many of the schools," replied the lieutenant. "But it just happens that we so far have not enrolled any of the fair sex. Your daughter will be the first. When does she wish to start?"
"As soon as possible," replied Mr. Carlton.
"Now!" Linda could not help adding.
"Well, I don't see why not," agreed the lieutenant, leniently. "At least Miss Carlton could take the physical examination, because one of our doctors is here now. And if she passes that, Mackay can give her the first lesson."
Linda's expression of delight suddenly died on her lips. For she glanced at her father, and saw the queer, drawn look about his mouth at the mention of Ted's name.
"This—Mackay—" he said slowly, "he isn't your only instructor?"
"He is our best."
"I prefer someone else. Can you arrange it?"
"Why—I suppose so. But if it is only personal reasons, I think you are making a mistake, Mr. Carlton. Mackay is our most reliable flyer—by far our best instructor. We don't expect to have him here more than a month or so. He's had a good offer from a big company."
Linda was glancing shyly, pleadingly, at her father, but he did not even see her.
"Unfortunately I found this young man's father to be most unreliable—untrustworthy—during the period that I employed him on my ranch. The fact is, we are not yet through with the trouble that he started. So you can understand why I should refuse to trust my daughter to his son. It is an unpleasant but true fact that children inherit their father's weaknesses. I should not have a comfortable minute, being miles away, and knowing that she was in his hands."
"Of coarse I will accept your decision, Mr. Carlton," replied Lieutenant Kingsberry, "and see that your wishes are carried out. I will summon the second ranking instructor—H. B. Taylor."
He called his office boy, a young man learning to fly, and working his way at the same time, and gave the necessary message. A couple of minutes later the man came in, dressed like Ted, but somehow he seemed insignificant to Linda—as if he were the one who was not reliable. She sighed.
Her father remained with the lieutenant and the instructor while she went into the doctor's office for her physical examination. She knew that her eyesight was good, but she felt a little nervous when the doctor examined her heart. It was fluttering so! Suppose all the excitement had been too much for her—and she did not pass! What good would her lovely plane be to her, if she were never allowed to pilot it herself?
But she need not have been alarmed, for shecame through with flying colors. Then young Taylor took her over to one of the planes, and began to explain about the joystick, the rudder, the ailerons, and everything else he could think of, in words of one syllable.
Linda glanced at him, frowning. Did he think she was a baby. Or was it because she was a girl that his manner seemed so superior, so condescending? Why, he was wasting a lot of time! Ted would have had her up in the air by this time, perhaps letting her guide the plane herself.
"I am familiar with all these terms, Mr. Taylor," she interrupted. "You see I have been up twice—with Mr. Mackay. And I've read a couple of books."
The young man regarded her haughtily.
"It is necessary, Miss Carlton, that you go through the regular lessons, regardless of what you knew beforehand," he answered coldly. "And whatever Mr. Mackay may have shown you—as a friend—has nothing to do with these lessons, so long as I, not he, am your instructor."
"But I want to go up today!" she protested, eagerly.
"It is not our custom to take students up on the first day, Miss Carlton.... Now, have you a notebook and pencil?"
"In my car." She tried to answer naturally, but she was keenly disappointed.
"Then will you please go and get them," he said, seating himself in the cockpit of the plane which he had been using to illustrate his statements.
Obediently, but half-heartedly, Linda started back for the road where her car was parked. She had gone about half-way when she came upon her father, accompanied by Ralph Clavering, dressed like herself, in his riding outfit.
"Hello, Linda!" he cried. "Passed your physical exam, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes," she answered. "So you're really going to learn, too?"
"I most certainly am. And your father has consented to let us take our lessons together. Won't that be fun?"
"Linda," interrupted her father, as he saw her start away, "where are you going? I want to tell you something."
"Yes, Daddy?" A wild hope surged in her heart that perhaps he had changed his mind about Ted. It wasn't only that she had taken a dislike to H. B. Taylor—it was rather that she had not confidence in him as a teacher. He might be all right as a pilot, but instructing others wasa different matter. And he would never really feel any personal interest in her progress, or understand her, like Ted. His attitude almost said that he thought it was silly of girls to want to fly!
But she ought to have known her father better than to think he would change his mind.
"I should like to take your car and go home now, if you don't mind," he said, "because I have some work to do today that is urgent—some people to see about business. And Mr. Clavering has very kindly offered to drive you home. Is that all right? I know you don't like other people to run your car——"
"Oh, Daddy, you're different," she said, forcing a smile. "Of course I don't mind your driving it.... But I'm sorry you can't wait for us."
Promising to meet Ralph in a couple of minutes, she walked out to the entrance of the field with her father.
"I need not tell you, dear," he said, "that my decision about Mackay is final. And I want you to have as little to do with him as possible, while you are here. It's for your own good, daughter. I can see that girls might find the young man attractive. But it is well to steerclear of such people. Have all the fun you like with your own friends."
"Yes, Daddy," she managed to reply.
"I guess young Clavering will see to it that your time at home, after most of the others go away for the summer, is not dull. And if you pass your course and get your license, you can fly your plane to Green Falls. I will make arrangements about a place to keep it. I dare say they have maps at the school."
"Yes—and thank you so much—for everything, Daddy," she said. She mustn't let him see that she was disappointed, after all he had done for her! He might be right about Ted—but she didn't think so. Whatever Ted's father might be, she felt sure that Ted was one of the finest young Americans that she had ever known.
Securing her notebook, and handing over her keys to her father, she hurried back to the field, and finished her lesson with Ralph at her side. As they walked out together, she looked about shyly for Ted. It wouldn't do any harm for her just to speak to him; after all he did want to tell her something. At last she spotted him, across the field beside one of the planes—in overalls and jumper now, his red hair brilliant in the sunlight.
"Do you know I believe that's the fellow we chased last night!" exclaimed Ralph. "Do you know him?"
"Yes, I've met him. He took me up a couple of times."
"You know him? Then why was he sneaking around so funny last night? Why didn't he come over and speak to you?"
"He's shy," replied Linda, jumping to the only conclusion that seemed feasible, and her explanation must have been correct, for Ted never looked up from his work as the young couple passed.
The next few weeks were the most interesting, the most exciting, of Linda's whole life. Every day she drove over to the Flying School with Ralph, and gained first her theoretical, and then her practical knowledge.
Both she and Ralph were surprised to find that it was so simple a matter to handle a plane. By the middle of July they were accustomed to stepping into the cockpits by themselves, nosing their planes into the wind, and rising to a height of fifteen hundred feet, without even a tremor. Anxiously they counted their hours of solo flying, not only that their licenses would be approved, but because they both wanted to try some stunts. They had studied the principles of loops, Immelman turns, barrel rolls, and falling leaves, and they were wild to try them out for themselves.
Finally, after they had both passed their written examinations, and were only waiting for their licenses to come through, Mr. Taylorallowed them both to try an inside loop and an Immelman turn. Linda's happiness was so great that she felt she just had to tell somebody, so she went home and wrote to her father. Unfortunately, she thought it wiser to say nothing about stunts to her aunt.
Miss Carlton still insisted that she would never get into a plane, not even Linda's. "It's too dangerous," she objected, when her niece was begging her to go for a ride. "I might be killed—and then who would take care of you? And besides, I don't see how anybody could learn to fly in the short time you've been at it."
"But Aunt Emily," explained Linda patiently, "it really is easier than driving a car. Once you are off the ground, the plane practically flies itself. And the higher you are, the safer."
Miss Carlton shuddered.
"I can't believe that, dear. Because the higher you are, the farther you have to fall!"
"But you have all that chance to regain control of your plane," insisted her niece. "Crashes practically always come on the ground—it's very rare indeed that two planes crash in the air, even when they are flying in Army formation."
"How soon do you think you'll get yourlicense?" inquired Miss Carlton, showing that Linda's words had made no impression at all upon her. She was anxious to get away now; Spring City was becoming very hot.
"Any time now," replied the girl, her eyes shining with anticipation. "I have done all the required solo flying—and more too."
"Solo flying? Do you mean you've been up alone? Without even Ralph?"
"Yes, of course! And I love it, Aunt Emily! Oh, if you could just try it once, you'd never be afraid again. It is the most wonderful sensation—up in the skies, all alone! Free as a bird!" She paused abruptly, smiling at her own enthusiasm. She did not often talk like this to anybody, though there was a great deal of poetry in her make-up.
"Well, dear, I'm glad you like it," said Miss Carlton, in a matter-of-fact tone. "But don't overdo it. And don't go in for any stunts."
Ralph Clavering, who had been making it his habit to come over to see Linda every evening, now that all his other friends had gone away, arrived on the porch in time to hear Miss Carlton's admonition. He was about to say something, for he was very proud of his successful "acrobatic flying," when he caught Linda's frown of warning. Of course there was no useof worrying the timid woman, who was worried enough already.
He sat on the railing, dangling his legs, and carelessly lighting a cigarette, as if he were very much at home.
"Linda's little 'Pursuit' is a daisy, Miss Carlton," he said. "It really has a most marvelous motor—and all sorts of safety devices. There's not a thing for you to worry about.... I wish I had one like it!"
Linda regarded him sympathetically. It was hard luck that his father, with all his money, refused to buy Ralph a plane! But he had been promised one the following year—if he graduated from college without any conditions. Evidently Mr. Clavering was using it as a spur to his son's ambition, for Ralph had never been keen about his studies. Good times came first with him; besides, he argued, what was the use of learning to make money, when his father already had more than they could spend?
"What are you children going to do this evening?" asked Miss Carlton, though it was nine o'clock now, and there wouldn't be much evening left, for Linda insisted upon going to bed early.
"I'd like to map out our trip to Green Falls," the latter replied. "And then we could showour plan to Lieutenant Kingsberry, and see where the airports are located along the way, in case we have to land."
"Why not Taylor?" inquired Ralph, teasingly, for he knew that Linda did not care much about her instructor.
She gave the boy a withering look.
"Well, then—Redhead? He ought to know. By the way, I never see you talking to him, Linda!"
"I never get a chance. He's always busy, and besides, you're usually with me. I guess he's too shy to intrude."
Nevertheless, she decided that she must have one talk with Ted Mackay before she left the school, to clear up matters that had never been discussed. All during the next week she watched for her opportunity, but it did not come until her final day at the school—the day when she received her license as a private pilot.
Wild with joy at her success, she asked where Ted was, and ran over to the hangar where he happened to be working. For once, Ralph was not with her; he had not yet landed the plane he had been flying.
"Mr. Mackay!" she cried joyously—she was afraid to call him "Ted" now, for he seemed like such a stranger. "I'm a real pilot! I canfly my own plane now, wherever I want to go!"
The young man came over solemnly and shook hands with her.
"May I be the first to congratulate you?" he asked.
"Not the first. Lieutenant Kingsberry has done so already. But, of course, in a way he doesn't count."
"And this is only your beginning, I know!" he said, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You're going to a ground school in the fall—as we used to talk about—aren't you?"
"Yes, I hope so." She hesitated, and looked down at the ground, digging the toe of a dainty slipper—entirely feminine, in spite of her flyer's costume—into the dust. She felt shy, and embarrassed; it was so hard to hurt Ted, and yet she didn't dare disobey her father. "Ted," she said, finally, "could I have just one little talk with you, to clear things up—before I go away?"
"I've been longing for it," he confessed, eagerly. "But I'd decided that you were through with me, on account of my actions that night you got your plane—when I sneaked over to see it. One of the boys heard it roaring over our heads, and ran out to see where it was landing. So, when he came back with the newsthat it was in your field, I knew it must be yours. When I went over to see it myself—I—I was hoping you'd come out alone—and we could gloat over it together! And then all that crowd showed up, and your aunt too—I was sure it was she—and I just lost my nerve and ran. It looked pretty queer, I guess."
"No, only why didn't you come to the house first?" she inquired.
"I was afraid the butler would say, 'Miss Carlton is not at home'—the way the rich young ladies' butlers always do in the novels."
"Only we haven't any butler," laughed Linda.
"Well, you have a strict aunt—and a father that's made of steel!"
"Don't!" cried the girl, in an offended tone. "You mustn't say a word against my father, or I never will talk to you. But that brings me to what I wanted to say.... My father has no time for you, on account of your father. It seems that a man by the same name worked for him on the ranch in Texas—and was untrustworthy. Could that have been your father?"
"I'm afraid it was," admitted Ted, sadly.
"So you see why he selected Mr. Taylor to teach me to fly...." Tears almost came into her eyes, as she saw how sorrowful Ted waslooking. "I think it's absurd, myself," she admitted. "But I suppose Daddy means it for the best.... I'm—not to be friends with you, Ted.... And, oh, I'm so sorry!"
"I'm sorry too, Linda," the boy said slowly. "But somehow I never believed we could be real friends. I'm not like you—I don't believe in fairy stories."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that the poor young man, who has a disgrace to live down, isn't likely to be friends with the rich, beautiful girl—in real life.... So I guess it's good-by...." He held out his hand.
"Oh, but I'll at least see you again!" she protested. "Tomorrow I'm going to fly my plane over here and back—all by myself!"
"That's wonderful—I wish I could be here to see you do it," he answered regretfully. "But unfortunately I am leaving myself tomorrow. I'm taking a job as salesman for a plane construction company in Kansas City."
"Congratulations!" cried Linda, pleased at his advancement. "Well, good luck—and good-by!"
"And, by the way," he added, "I want to thank you for wearing my poor little flowers at your class-day. I saw you—through the fence.I was so glad they held the affair out-of-doors!"
"Then they were from you?" she asked, ashamed that she had forgotten to thank him. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure. I meant to ask you. They were lovely."
"I am going to give you a card of my firm," said Ted, reaching into his pocket. "So that you will know where I am, in case you need any help with your Arrow.... You—you—don't mind?"
"I'll be very thankful to have it," she reassured him. "You know, Ted, I have an awful lot of confidence in you!"
And, with a final pressure of her hand, he turned to go, and she, looking about, saw Ralph Clavering walking towards her.
"What's the big idea?" he asked her, when he reached her side, and Ted had disappeared. "Holding hands with Red?" His tone was irritable.
"I was just saying good-by," she explained. "He's leaving tomorrow for a job in Kansas City."
"Flying?"
"Naturally."
"Well, we'll be flying away soon, too," he added, more cheerfully. "I had a letter from Kit this morning, and she wants us surely atGreen Falls for July thirty-first. It's the Midsummer Ball, and the big event of the season—socially. She told me to tell you and Miss Carlton to be sure not to miss it."
"Oh, I'll be ready by Saturday," replied Linda. "Aunt Emily has been doing all the shopping, so I hardly need to do anything.... By the way, did Kit give you any gossip about the crowd?"
"Let me see," muttered Ralph, as he took her arm possessively while they walked across the field, in the hope that Ted Mackay would see them. "She did have quite a bit to say—but it was mostly about Maurry."
"Maurice Stetson? What's he been doing?"
"Rushing Kit, evidently. And she seems to like it.... And she said Harry Smith has a life-guard's job, and is spending all his spare time with Lou."
"I haven't heard from Lou in ages," remarked Linda. "But I guess it's partly my fault. I haven't had time to answer her letters." Then, changing the subject, as they came out to the road where Linda's car was parked, "You're going to fly up with me in the 'Pursuit,' aren't you, Ralph?"
"Surest thing! We'll fly everywhere together—from now on. Just like Mr. and Mrs. Lindy!"
"Only we won't!" she answered abruptly, laughing at him.
As they stepped up to the roadster, they almost fell over a man who came out from a shabby coupé in front of theirs. He had evidently been leaning over, fixing something.
"Want any help?" asked Ralph, though Linda knew he hadn't the slightest idea of giving any.
"No, thanks," muttered the man, without looking up. "Engine trouble."
"Engine trouble!" repeated Linda, sympathetically. Then, turning to Ralph. "Suppose something like that should happen to us—on the way to Green Falls!"
"Well, it won't!" replied Ralph reassuringly. "The motor's just about perfect in that little plane of yours! No—but I tell you what, Linda, you better bring your gun along. That crazy sister of mine expects me to bring her pearls up for the Midsummer Ball!"
"Real pearls—at a summer resort!" cried Linda, as she slipped the key into her lock, and started her engine. "She's taking an awful chance!"
"That's what I think. But of course they're insured. And so long as she's succeeded in getting Dad's permission, it's not my business to stop her.... By the way, it's a fancy-dress affair. What sort of costume will you wear?"
"I don't know. I guess I'll leave it to Aunt Emily."
But when she got back home, she forgot all about pearls and dresses and mid-summer balls. Nothing mattered to her, but the glorious fact that at last she was a real flyer!
The first thing that Linda thought of when she opened her eyes the following morning was the glorious fact that she was now a real pilot. She could take her plane anywhere—to Green Falls, to her father's ranch in Texas, wherever she wanted to go—and nobody could stop her. The freedom of the world and of the skies was hers.
But she had no intention of taking it any farther than the Spring City Flying School that day. She would spend the morning there, watching one of the licensed mechanics give it a thorough inspection, in readiness for the flight to Green Falls on the following day.
She wished that it might be Ted Mackay who would go over the plane. She had such confidence in his knowledge, his thoroughness. Besides, it would be fun to spend the morning with him, asking him questions, and talking things over.
Naturally, that was impossible. When Lindareached the field she found that Ted already had gone, and a number of changes had been made. H. B. Taylor was now first-ranking instructor, and the young man who had been acting as office boy, or orderly, or whatever they chose to call him, had passed his course and was promoted to the rank of instructor. Another man took his place—an older man this time, and Linda thought probably it was the poor fellow who had been having engine trouble with his shabby coupé the preceding day. Everything seemed different, and Linda was somehow glad that she was leaving. The place would never be the same to her without Ted Mackay.
About noon she received the mechanic's O.K. upon her plane, and flew home in time for lunch. Her aunt had finished packing, and was as excited as a child about going to Green Falls, and again taking up their customary social life among their friends.
"I have bought a new flying suit for you, dear," she said to her niece, as the girl entered the library. "Unwrap it and see how you like it."
Linda eagerly unfastened the strings and lifted out a pair of white flannel knickers, with a jaunty blue sweater and helmet of knitted silk, just the color of her eyes. The whole costumewas charming, and a lovely change from the dark riding breeches she had been using for flying.
"It's perfect, Aunt Emily!" she cried, realizing for the first time that she had never cared for what she was now wearing. "And it was so sweet of you to think of getting it for me!"
"I never could see why girls have to look masculine," replied her aunt. "Of course I can understand that skirts are impractical, but they make these suits so pretty now-a-days. And I want you to look nice the very first minute you arrive at Green Falls. First impressions are always so important and there is sure to be a crowd there to greet you."
Linda was only too delighted to wear it the next day, which dawned clear and warm for her flight. Miss Carlton left early in the morning, by train, so that she would be at Green Falls in plenty of time to welcome the flyers.
Ralph came over for Linda about half-past nine. Carrying their lunch, the young people started on their first real adventure in the air.
The young man, too, wore a new suit of spotless white flannel, and, as they walked, tall and slender and straight, they made perhaps the best-looking pair of flyers in America. But neither was conscious of that; both were toomuch excited about their first trip in the air to give even a passing thought to their appearances.
"Are you sure that you have the precious necklace?" asked Linda, as they made their way across the field in back of her house.
"Yes, indeed," answered Ralph. "I went to the safe-deposit vault this morning to get it. That was one reason why I didn't want to start early. I had to wait for the bank to open."
"Kit would be horribly disappointed if we didn't bring it," returned Linda. "I honestly think she loves those pearls as much as I do my 'Pursuit'!"
"Queer taste," remarked the boy. "If I had them, I'd sell them and buy a biplane!"
"Of course you would," said Linda approvingly. "Even if you do insist upon talking baby-talk!"
"Baby-talk?"
"Certainly. 'Buy a biplane'—sounds like 'Bye, Bye, Baby,' doesn't it?"
Ralph smiled, but they both forgot immediately what they were saying, for they were beside the plane now, ready to start on their flight. Linda was not at all nervous about the journey, only thrilled and happy. She climbed into the cockpit with the same assurance thatshe entered her car, and her take-off was just as easy, just as natural. It seemed now as if she piloted the biplane by instinct; with the sureness of a bird it rose into the air to a gradual height of fifteen hundred feet. For she had been cautioned again and again that there was safety in height.
They flew along without any attempt at conversation, for it was difficult to hear above the roar of the motor. But Linda was so happy that she hummed softly to herself, and most of the time she was smiling. Ralph, with a map in his lap, kept a close watch on the compass.
For some time they did not see any other planes in the sky, and then at last one came into view. As it drew closer, it occurred to Linda to wonder whether she was being followed.
"Who do you suppose that is?" shouted Ralph, above the noise of the motor.
"I think it's somebody from our school—maybe Taylor," she replied. "Perhaps Dad ordered them to follow us—for safety—or maybe it was Ted Mackay's idea."
As the plane drifted off to one side, they thought no more about the matter. But it was noon now; the sun stood high overhead, and both of the young people were astonished to find how hungry they were.
"I want to try a couple of stunts before we eat," Linda told Ralph. "You're game, aren't you?"
"Surest thing!" replied the boy, with delight. "We've got plenty of height—and a spectator too, for that matter." The other plane had just come back into sight.
Linda's eyes were shining with excitement, yet inside she was perfectly cool. Hadn't she made inside loops and Immelman turns often at school, and didn't she know exactly what to do? With perfect poise, she swung the plane into a loop, and completed it without any difficulty. Pleased with her success, she tried it again and again.
"You must think you're Laura Ingalls!" shouted Ralph, catching his breath. "Trying to beat her record?"
"Hardly," smiled Linda, for the famous aviatrix he mentioned held the record at that time with nine hundred and eighty consecutive inside loops, at a speed of four and a half loops a minute.
The plane was righted now, but Linda suddenly noticed that Ralph was acting awfully queer, hanging over the side, and hunting frantically in the pockets of the sweater whichhe had put over the seat. She believed he must be ill; certainly his face was ghastly white.
"Ralph!" she cried, fearfully. "What's the matter?"
"I've lost the necklace!" he screamed in terror. "Must have fallen out of my pocket!"
"Oh!" wailed Linda, aghast at the meaning of his words. "Are you sure?"
"Positive!"
"Then we'll land immediately. We're over a field, so we ought to be able to find it. Now—keep your eye on the compass!"
Gradually, and with easy skill, she turned the biplane into the wind and descended, finally coming down into a large flat field, evidently a pasture ground for some horses. Ralph was the first to jump out.
"We went a little south to land," he said, "so it must have dropped up there."
"Was it in a box?" questioned Linda.
"Yes, fortunately. A white velvet box, inside a larger pasteboard one, with three rubber bands around it. That ought to make it easier to find."
Linda, however, had her doubts; the field was so big! Besides, what proof had Ralph that he had lost it at that particular minute—when shewas making her loops. She remembered that he had taken off his sweater an hour ago, when he felt too warm, and had carelessly hung it over the side, forgetful of the precious box in its pocket. That was the trouble with being so rich! Many times she had noticed how heedless both Kitty and Ralph were about valuables.
They walked silently across the field, their eyes on the ground, their minds filled with remorse. Ten minutes passed, and they had not found it.
"Let's go back and eat our lunch," suggested Ralph, consulting his watch. "It's almost one o'clock, and we'll feel better if we eat. After all, we have plenty of time—Green Falls is only about twenty miles farther. We could search all afternoon, if necessary."
"Yes, only Aunt Emily would nearly die of anxiety. She'd be sure we had been killed, if we didn't arrive before supper."
They went back to the plane and took out the dainty lunch which Miss Carlton's cook had packed that morning for them. But, hungry though they were, the meal was not the pleasant picnic they had been hoping for. Both were too unhappy to enjoy what they were eating.
Presently the noise of a motor overhead attracted their attention, and, looking up, theysaw a plane in descent. When it was low enough to identify, they knew that it was the one that had been following them.
"It's the 'Waco' from our school!" cried Linda. "I recognize it now. He must think we're in trouble. I wonder who's piloting?"
The plane made a rather poor landing at the far end of the field, perhaps half a mile away. They could distinguish a man getting out of the cockpit, but of course at that distance they could not identify him. However, he seemed to be coming slowly towards them.
As he advanced nearer and nearer Linda noticed that he wore an ordinary suit of clothing—not a flyer's uniform, and he kept his hand in his pocket. But she still did not recognize him—unless he was that new man the school had taken on the preceding day. Once he stooped over, as if he were picking something up, and Linda's heart beat wildly with hope. Could it be that he had found the necklace? Apparently, though, it was only a plant that he had pulled up by the roots, for when he straightened himself, he seemed to be examining its leaves.
"In trouble?" he shouted, as soon as he was within hearing distance.
Ralph jumped up and ran towards him, shaking his head in the negative.
"No trouble with the plane," he replied. "But we've lost a little box—with a necklace in it. You haven't seen it, have you?"
"Why, yes," answered the man slowly, "I did pick up a box." And he put his other hand in his pocket, and drew out the very article. Fortunately it had not been broken; even the rubber bands were still tightly around it. He handed it to Ralph.
"Oh, thank you a thousand times!" cried Linda, too relieved to believe her eyes. "The necklace was a graduation present to this man's sister, and she values it very highly!"
"Well, if that's all, I'll be off," said the man, as he watched Ralph put the box into his pocket.
"No, I must reward you," insisted the boy, taking out a twenty-dollar bill. "And by the way, you're from the Spring City Flying School, aren't you? We recognized the plane."
The other nodded, and seemed in a hurry to be off. Already he was twenty feet away.
"It was awfully nice of you to follow us, and look after us," called Linda, "but really we don't need protection. We're getting along finely!"
But the man was running now, and could hardly have heard what Linda was saying. In a couple of minutes they heard the motor start,and with a clumsy take-off, the plane ascended.
"A queer cuss," remarked Ralph. "And I can't see that he's much of a flyer. You and I are both better—by a long shot.... But anyhow, we've got the necklace!" He put his arms around Linda and hugged her, and she was too happy to protest. What a miracle it was to have found it!
"That will teach me a lesson," said Ralph, as he helped Linda gather up the lunch. "I'm going to be more careful now. I've put the necklace in my most inside pocket!"
"And I'm not going in for any more acrobatics for a while," added Linda.
They climbed into the cockpit, and started the motor without wasting any more time. Half an hour later they made a graceful landing at Green Falls' Airport, for a group of a hundred spectators to witness and admire.
"Let's don't say anything about our little mishap," whispered Linda, as the flying couple got out of their plane. "For one thing, I'd just as soon not boast about stunts in front of Aunt Emily. She would be worried all the more."
"And I'm not any too proud of the fact that I was so careless about a valuable necklace," returned Ralph. "So we'll keep it our secret."
There was no time for further words. Everybody rushed at them, shouting joyous welcomes. Louise was the first to kiss Linda—then all the others, and finally her aunt.
"Thank Heaven you're safe!" cried the latter. "I couldn't eat a bite of lunch, I was so uneasy."
"Of course we're safe," assured Ralph. "And maybe if we'd come by motor, we should have had an accident. There was a big smash-up—two automobiles—outside of Spring City this morning."
"Isn't the air up here wonderful!" exclaimedMiss Carlton. "After that stuffy town of ours!"
"I think theairportis wonderful," replied Linda, "for so small a place. But as for the air—well, don't forget Auntie dear, that Ralph and I have been having marvelous air—up in the skies!"
"Hope you didn't give him the air," remarked Maurice Stetson, solemnly.
Kitty Clavering gave the young man a withering look, and inquired of the flyers when they might hope for rides. "Oh, I don't mean today," she added, "for I know you must both be nearly dead."
"Not a bit of it!" denied Linda, who still looked as fresh as a flower in her becoming blue and white suit. "But it's supposed to be wise to have a mechanic go over your plane each time you fly. Just a precaution, you see."
"A very good rule to follow," commented Miss Carlton. "Now everybody get into their cars, and we'll go over to our bungalow for some ginger-ale and sandwiches."
"Just a moment, please!" interrupted a voice at her elbow, and everyone turned to see a newspaper man with a camera. "Pictures, please!"
Linda and Ralph smilingly agreed, and their friends stepped aside. Then they all piled intothe three machines that were waiting for them; while the strangers who had been watching commented on the beautiful biplane, and the handsome couple who had been flying it, and wondered whether they were married.
"Did you bring my necklace, Ralph?" asked Kitty Clavering, as he got into her roadster with her and Maurice.
"Surest thing!" he replied, as if nothing at all had happened on the way. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the pasteboard box, with the French jeweler's name engraved on the lid.
"Thanks a lot," she replied. "Maurry, you take care of it till we get home, so long as you're sitting in the middle. Mind you don't lose it! I think as much of that as Linda does of her plane."
"But not as much of it as you do of me?" asked the youth, flippantly.
"A thousand times more! Like the old question people always ask married men: 'If your mother and your wife were drowning, which one would you save?' Well, if you and the necklace were drowning, I'd go after my necklace!"
"Righto. Necklaces, no matter how valuable, have never been known to swim. I do."
It was only a five minute ride from the airport to Miss Carlton's bungalow, so Kittywaited until they had all gone inside the pleasant living-room to open her box, and gaze at her beloved treasure once more.
"I'm dying to see it again," she said, as she took the box from Maurice's hand. "If I had my way, I wouldn't keep it in a safe-deposit vault. I like it where I can look at it."
She took off the rubber bands and opened the box, displaying the velvet case inside. But when she unfastened the clasp, her expression of delight changed abruptly to one of horror. The case was empty!
Her exclamation of distress was pitiful to hear. Her dearest possession—gone!
"Ralph!" she cried with torturing accusation. "Ralph! Are you teasing me?"
Her brother's face became ghastly white.
"What—what's wrong—Kit?" he stammered.
"My necklace! Oh, what has happened?" She burst out crying.
Everybody crowded around and gazed in consternation at the empty box, looking questioningly at Ralph, to see whether it could possibly be intended as a joke. But he did not need to tell them of his innocence; he looked almost as stricken as his sister. He knew now that it had been stolen by the man who pretended tobe a pilot! And he had actually made twenty dollars out of Ralph besides, for the transaction! What fools they had been, never to open the box!
"It's all my fault!" cried Linda, contritely. "My silly, foolish, childishness, for wanting to show off!"
Nobody of course had any idea what she was talking about—nobody except Ralph.
"No! No! It was mine!" he protested. "My carelessness!"
"Then you both knew!" exclaimed Kitty, raising her head, which she had buried on Linda's shoulder while she sobbed. "Oh, how cruel, not to prepare me!"
"On my honor, we didn't!" averred Ralph, and from the look on his face, his sister knew that he was telling the truth.
"Explain what you meant, then," she commanded.
"Let me tell you," put in Linda. "But sit down, Kit dear. You're liable to faint.... You see, we were robbed, and too foolish to suspect it. We even paid the robber twenty dollars for doing the job."
"So you said," Kitty remarked, impatiently. "Do you mean that you saw somebody take it—right under your eyes?" She had droppeddown on the couch, and her pale little face was pitiful to see. The tears still ran down her cheeks, washing tiny rivers through the powder. Luckily she was not a girl who used rouge, or she would have looked ridiculous. As it was, she gave the appearance of a very unhappy child.
"Exactly!" explained Linda. "Or rather, we might have, if we had had sense enough to realize it. I wanted to try a couple of loops, and we started quite high, but by the time we had finished, we were over an open field. It was then that Ralph suddenly realized that the box had dropped out of his pocket when the plane was on its side. So we decided to land, and search the field."
"And somebody had already picked it up?" demanded Dot, excitedly.
"No. Another airplane—I had noticed it before—landed soon after we came down. The pilot walked over and asked us if we were in trouble."
"And you stupids told him all about the fifty-thousand-dollar necklace!" cried Louise, in disgust.
"No, we didn't! We were smart enough to know that wouldn't be wise. We thought we knew him, though—we had seen him at theSpring City Flying School. But we did tell him we had lost a necklace, and he said he had picked something up. As a matter of fact, we had noticed him stoop over."
"And you took it and thanked him, and never looked inside!" cried Kitty.
"I'm afraid you're right," admitted Ralph. "We thought he was a friend, following us for our protection, at the orders of the school."
"Well, then, why was he following you?" demanded Kitty, incredulously.
"He must have overheard us talking about the necklace," answered Linda slowly, for she was trying to think the thing out. "Yes—that is what I believe he was doing all the time, Ralph. Now I remember—the day we got our licenses!"
"You mean you went around the school shouting the news that you were carrying pearls to Green Falls in an airplane?" asked the unhappy girl.
"Of course not! Only the men at the bank—the safe-deposit vault—really knew about it. And of course they're absolutely trustworthy! Except maybe this one man—who was fixing his car outside the aviation field. We never thought he was listening—why we couldn't even see him!"
"Children," interrupted Miss Carlton, who had been patiently waiting to serve the refreshments, "wouldn't you all feel better if you ate something? Then we can discuss what are the best steps to take to capture the thief."
They agreed, but Linda and Ralph and Kitty were all extremely nervous; they hated to lose any time. Ralph decided to telephone to a lawyer at once in Spring City, to put expert detectives on the job, and to get in touch with the Flying School.
"Lucky the necklace was insured," remarked Maurice Stetson, as he drank his ginger-ale.
"Yes, but Dad will never get me another!" moaned Kitty, disconsolately. "He'll say I was careless, and invest the insurance in bonds, to be kept in trust till I'm older—or something like that." She started to cry afresh. "And I only wore the necklace twice—at graduation and at the class dance!"
Linda watched her sorrow with more than sympathy—with remorse. It was her fault, she was sure! Of course she couldn't imagine caring so much for a pearl necklace, when such lovely imitations were made, but it wasn't her place to judge. Kitty probably wouldn't understand why she loved her Arrow so much.
Slowly, painfully, she came to her decision.She rose and went over to the couch where Kitty was sitting, and crowded in between the latter and Dot.
"It's my fault, Kit," she said, "and of course I can't pay for it—but I can help. I'm—I'm—going to sell my airplane, and—give you the money. Then you can start buying a new one—a couple of pearls at a time."
Kitty squeezed her hand affectionately.
"You're a dear, Linda, but I couldn't possibly let you do that. Besides, it was really Ralph's fault."
"Of course it was!" put in the young man, returning from making his telephone call. "But we're going to catch that thief!" he announced, with conviction. "I've just been talking with Lieutenant Kingsberry at the field, and he says that fellow didn't even have a license, that they only took him on temporarily, as sort of errand boy. And he deliberately stole that plane!"
"I thought he was about the poorest pilot I ever saw!" cried Linda, jumping up excitedly at this piece of news. "He'll probably crash, sooner or later.... Ralph!" Her eyes were shining with inspiration.... "Let's go out after him—ourselves!"
"Lieutenant Kingsberry is broadcasting the news all over—to all the airports," replied the young man. "Everybody will be watching for him. Do you think there would be any use in our going?"
"Yes! Yes! We might be just the ones to spot him! Oh, come on!"
"But haven't you had enough flying for today, Linda?" inquired Miss Carlton, anxiously.
"We won't go far, Auntie dear," answered the girl. "Just around to the nearest airports, and see if anybody has any information. The practice of landing and taking-off again will be good for us both.... And you needn't worry one bit!... Now, who'll drive us over to our 'Pursuit'?"
"'Pursuit' is right," remarked Maurice. "Your plane has the right name, Linda!"
Louise immediately offered her services, and in less than five minutes the young pilots had washed their faces and were ready to start. Ten minutes later they climbed into the cockpit on the runway of the airport, and, this time with Ralph at the controls, they took off for the nearest airport.
Ralph was delighted to be piloting a plane again, and in his enthusiasm he almost forgot the seriousness of his mission. A king of the air, he thought, and his lips were smiling. But Linda could not forget so easily.
Like most young men, he loved going fast, and as soon as he was high enough, he let the plane out to her maximum speed. Over the clouds they sailed, at a rate of seventy miles an hour, yet they did not seem to be traveling fast. Linda had no sense of danger, yet it was the first flight she had ever made that she did not thoroughly enjoy, for, unlike Ralph, she could not for one moment forget Kitty's tragedy.
Twenty minutes, however, was all that was needed to reach their first port, and Ralph, not quite so skilled or so careful as Linda, made, nevertheless a pretty landing. It was a large field, evidently designed for amateur sport flyers, and there were a number of licensed mechanics in readiness to greet new arrivals.
Ralph lost no time in telling his story to the first man who came forward. Had they any information so far? he inquired.
"Only of a wreck about fifteen miles away," replied the latter. "That may be your man—if, as you say, he is not an experienced pilot."
"Can you give us directions?" put in Linda excitedly.
"Certainly," replied the other, taking a map from his pocket, and indicating the position of the wreck. "We've already sent a doctor and a nurse—and telephoned for an ambulance." Marking the spot, he handed the map to Ralph.
Jumping into the plane at once, Linda took control, for she felt surer of herself than of her companion in an emergency. The boy was so absent-minded, so likely to forget things in his excitement.
Their destination was a field again, but not a large one, this time, and already a small crowd, gathered from passing automobiles, had collected. Here landing was not so easy as in the airports designed for that very purpose. But the girl knew just what she was doing, and she handled the situation with a dexterity that would have brought credit to a far more experienced pilot.
Over against an embankment, its wings smashed to pieces, a plane was lying on its side, mutely testifying to the truth of the mechanic's statement.
"There's the wreck!" cried Ralph, as he and Linda stepped on the ground. "Do you think it's the Waco?"
Grabbing her companion's arm, Linda ran forward eagerly. When they were within fiftyyards of it, she knew that it was the very plane they were seeking.
"It is! Oh, Ralph! Even the license number—so I'm sure! Remember? Look! Do you suppose that man was killed?"
"Would serve him right!" muttered the boy, resentfully. "Stealing a necklace, and crashing a plane that wasn't his! But let's go over and have a peep at him—there's the ambulance."
The crowd, which was still gathering, although the field was in an isolated spot, was being held back by a policeman, for the ambulance was ready to start. Ralph dashed forward, anxious to get a look at the thief before it departed.
"Not that we could claim the necklace now," he explained to Linda, whose arm he was holding, "for we haven't any proofs of our ownership. But at least we could warn the cop to look out for it."
"Back! Back!" shouted the officer, for the driver was tooting his horn.
"Oh, please wait a minute!" begged Linda. "Please let me see the man who is inside!"
The policeman regarded the girl doubtfully, but she was so eager in her pleading that he thought perhaps she had a good reason. Perhaps the man inside the ambulance meantsomething to her; he decided to grant her request.
"Take a look, miss," he agreed. "But be quick about it."
Stepping ahead of Ralph, Linda climbed upon the back step of the car, and peered anxiously into it, past the white-clad interne, to the unconscious figure on the stretcher. Suddenly she started violently, and clung to the door of the ambulance for support. It was incredible, impossible! Her knees shook, her hands fell to her side, and she swayed backward in a faint. In an instant Ralph's arms were around her; he carried her out of the crowd.
The unconscious man in the ambulance was none other than Ted Mackay!