About eight o'clock the following morning while her friends were still sleeping, Linda Carlton, clad in a bathing-suit and a beach robe, dashed down to the lake. She thought an early morning swim before anyone was up would clear her brain and give her a chance to think over her plans and come to a decision. If possible, she meant to get in touch with Ted's company before the detectives arrived at his home to arrest him.
She had thought, naturally, that she would find the lake deserted, for everybody ought to be tired out after last night's party. She was therefore amazed and a little annoyed to see some one else already in swimming.
"I'll go in the other direction," she decided, but before she was even in the water she heard a familiar voice calling her.
"Linda!" cried Louise Haydock, waving her arms, and starting to swim rapidly towards her. "Ho—Linda!"
"Lou!"
"Yes—me!" shouted the other girl. "But did you say 'Who' or 'You'?"
"I said 'Lou'!" replied Linda, laughing good-naturedly. It was a relief to find the other bather was her chum.
They were within talking distance now, and Louise hurried to the shore. They sat down together and gossiped about the party, Louise laughing over Ralph's childishness in trying to keep up the quarrel with Linda.
"To tell you the truth, Linda," she added, "I'm bored with him. As a matter of fact, I'm fed up with most of the boys. Harry's all right, but he has so little time. All the others are so pleased with themselves. They think we can't get along without them!"
"Well, can we?" teased Linda.
"Why not? Except for dances——"
Linda dug her toes into the sand and smiled.
"That's the trouble with us. There's always some 'except.' We ought to make up our minds to stay away from dancing, if we really want them to get over their superiority complex."
"It would be pretty dull in the evenings—we'd have to find something else to take its place...." Louise paused to watch an airplane that was flying overhead. "Linda!" shecried, abruptly, "I have it! Let's go off on a trip—just the two of us—in your plane! Be gone a week or two!"
Linda grabbed her chum's hands in delight. What a marvelous idea! The freedom! The adventure of it! And she could link it up with her own errand to Kansas City.
"Oh, I'd adore that, Lou!" she exclaimed. "Would you really trust yourself to me? Honestly? You wouldn't be afraid?"
Louise put her arm about the other girl and hugged her tightly.
"Of course I would! I have an awful lot of confidence in you. And I'd love it!"
Linda's brow darkened suddenly. For as always, she had to think of others besides herself.
"What's the matter?" demanded Louise, watching her companion's face.
"I am thinking of Aunt Emily—and your mother," answered Linda. "Wondering whether they'd give their consent—and if they did, would they worry themselves to death?"
"Mother would be all right—I can manage her, and Dad too," said Louise confidently. "And, after all, think of the flying that girls do now-a-days. A little picnic like this is tame, compared to flying from England to Australia."
"Yes, I know—but Aunt Emily's so scary about planes."
"Well, I tell you what we could do—we could map out our whole trip beforehand, and decide where we would land each night. We could probably get the names of the hotels where we would stay. And each evening after supper, we could telephone the people at home."
"That's an idea!" agreed Linda, enthusiastically.
"You wouldn't want to camp out, anyway, would you? They would be sure to object to that—just two girls alone."
"No; we'd have to buy a lot of equipment, and I'd hate to load down the plane. But I'm afraid Aunt Emily would even object to our staying alone at hotels. You know how particular she is."
Louise was silent a moment, thinking it was too pleasant an idea to give up at once. She'd have to devise a way out of their difficulty.
"I'll tell you," she announced, finally. "We can plan to stop with people we know each night—or at a hotel where some friend is staying. We surely can round up some relatives and friends!"
"That's it!" cried Linda, joyfully. "That ought to be easy! And we can send telegramsahead. But the places will have to have some sort of airports."
"Oh, most every town has some kind of landing place," said Louise. "I don't think that need worry us."
"There's another thing," added Linda, slowly. "I'd want to start today. Because I must go to Kansas City as fast as I can." And she explained to Louise her plan about establishing Ted's alibi.
Louise leaped into the air in her excitement and approval.
"That's great! You know me, Linda—I always hate to wait about anything. We can pack our suit-cases and send our wires in an hour if we hustle. Hurry up! Hop in for a dip, and come right back!"
Ten minutes later they dashed breathless and wet into the dining-room of the Carlton bungalow, where Miss Carlton was eating a leisurely breakfast. In their excitement over their idea they could scarcely explain it. But at last the older woman understood; she heard them out, and gave her rather reluctant consent.
"If you don't make the trip too long," she added.
"A week?"
"Isn't four days enough? Then we would have to arrange only two stopping places—the same one coming back. And I am sure I could do that very easily."
The girls agreed, delighted even with a compromise. Nothing they had ever done promised to be half so thrilling.
They would fly southwest, making their first stop Kansas City, where Ted's firm was located. Searching through her address-book, Miss Carlton remembered that she had a cousin living in a hotel in that city and she wired her immediately to reserve a room for the girls for that night, and to chaperon their visit.
"And then we'll fly to Sunny Hills—as our destination!" cried Louise, with happy inspiration. "It's in Colorado—where my Aunt Margaret and Uncle John live! Oh, we'll have no end of fun there!"
"You're sure they won't mind?" asked Linda.
"They'll be tickled to death. They have a huge place—sort of a farm—and six children. Of course they're not children now—several of them are married—but they always keep open house. We used to go there a lot when I was a kid."
"All right—you send that wire," agreedLinda, as she hastily swallowed some food, "and I'll get ready and go down to my plane, and see that it's O.K."
"How about some lunch?" suggested her Aunt Emily.
"Oh, yes, please—if you don't mind!"
In an incredibly short time the girls were dressed, their suit-cases packed, the wires sent, and the lunch in readiness. About half-past ten, without saying a word of good-by to anyone except Miss Carlton and Louise's parents, they took off.
The sky was clear and blue, without even a cloud to threaten them with fog or storm. It was Louise's first ride in a plane, yet she was not a bit afraid. She said she had never been so thrilled before.
"I'm getting the craze, Linda!" she shouted, above the noise of the motor. "If I only had a suit like yours!"
She was wearing her riding-breeches and a tan sweater-blouse, with a close-fitting hat of the same color—a costume, which though neat and appropriate, had none of the style and charm of her companion's.
"But you can't wear earrings!" teased Linda, pulling at Louise's ears to make surethat the other girl heard and understood what she was saying.
"In the suit-case!" returned Louise, laughing and pointing towards the article she named.
But neither of the girls wanted to try to talk. They were content to rise higher and higher into the air, to feel the glorious sensation of smooth flying, knowing that everything was just right. Both of them began to sing.
On, on they went, over fields and towns, watching their map and their instruments, dipping now and then to catch a glimpse of the landscape below, climbing back to the heights for safety. As the clock on their plane neared twelve, they realized they were hungry, because breakfast had been such a sketchy affair for them both. Louise untied the box, and they ate joyously. Their first meal in the air!
It was still early when they arrived at Kansas City, and Linda flew a straight, swift course to the large grounds that were occupied by the company for which Ted Mackay worked. Without the slightest mishap or difficulty Linda brought her plane to a perfect landing in the large area set aside for that purpose.
A nice-looking young man in a flyer's uniform came to them in welcome. His face showedno surprise; it was evidently an every-day occurrence to meet feminine pilots.
"I would like to speak to the sales-manager," said Linda, after she had answered his greeting, and made sure that this was the right place. "I want to make some inquiries about Ted Mackay."
"All right," agreed the young man. "I'll take you to Mr. Jordan immediately."
But when they were introduced, Linda felt suddenly shy. What right had she, she asked herself, to pry into Ted's affairs? She wasn't a relative—or even a friend, if she adhered to her father's command. So it was Louise who came to the rescue, as she always did in emergencies, and proceeded to take charge of the interview.
"You see," she explained, "the people who had that valuable necklace stolen are pretty much perturbed over the whole affair—and naturally they hired detectives. Well, Mr. Jordan—you know what detectives are! They bungle everything."
"Yes?" remarked the man, looking smilingly from one girl to the other, thinking that they, too, were rather excited.
"And just because they found Mr. Mackay by the stolen plane, and because they located agasoline agent who swears that he sold gas to a red-haired man for that same plane earlier in the day, they're sure Mr. Mackay is a thief."
"And they're going to his home—to arrest him!" put in Linda, now more at ease.
"But they can't prove anything," Mr. Jordan assured them, calmly.
"Oh, but they say they'll put third degree on him, or whatever it is, and force him to a confession. And—and—think of his poor mother!"
"But what do you girls want me to do?" he asked. "I don't see how I can stop them!"
"We just want you to establish his alibi," explained Louise. "Write down everything Mr. Mackay did from early morning till the time he started off in that new plane."
"O.K.!" exclaimed Mr. Jordan, a light breaking over his face. "That's easy! We had a salesmen's meeting at the Winton Hotel, and lunched together. I can swear Mackay was there—and so can half a dozen others. We came back here about three o'clock, and Mackay was looking over the plane and studying his maps for about half an hour. Then he took off—for Buffalo."
"That's just what we want!" cried Linda, and Louise added, "wonderful!" and squeezedthe elderly man's hand. He smiled at her as if she were his daughter.
"And will you dictate that to a stenographer, and send a copy to Ted by air-mail?" urged Linda.
"Certainly," he agreed.
"And now," added Linda, "will one of your mechanics look over my plane and put it away till tomorrow? We want to get our suit-cases, and taxi to my cousin's hotel."
So, half an hour later, when the girls were making themselves known to the elderly couple who were expecting them, they spoke joyously of the perfect success of their first day's adventure, but they did not mention their mission on Ted Mackay's behalf.
The girls' visit with the elderly couple at the hotel at Kansas City was restful, but uneventful. As soon as they arrived, Linda telephoned to her aunt over long distance, and made a satisfactory report. Dinner and the movies occupied their evening.
Early the next morning they bade their host and hostess a temporary farewell—for they were scheduled to return in a couple of days—and took a taxi to the airplane company where their Arrow was being kept.
"It's a little cloudy, girls," observed Mr. Jordan as he came over to meet them. "But I don't think it will actually storm before night. Are you going far?"
"To a place called 'Sunny Hills'," replied Louise, producing her map. "In Colorado."
The man studied it for a few minutes, and then pointed out their best course.
"And your plane's O.K.," he added. "She certainly is a neat little boat."
"I'm fond of her myself!" replied Linda,her eyes shining as they always did when she spoke of her most precious possession.
"And have you had any word from Mr. Mackay?" asked Louise.
"Yes. He's coming back today," answered Mr. Jordan. "I sent a plane for him, with the letter you suggested. The pilot wired last night that he arrived safely, and both men would be back on the job tomorrow."
"He didn't say anything about the detectives?"
"Not a word."
"Then everything must be all right!" breathed Linda, with a sigh of relief.
"Well, good-by," concluded Mr. Jordan, as the girls stepped into their plane. "And fly carefully. That's rather lonely country you're passing over."
"But the skies are safe!" returned Linda, as she started her motor.
It was indeed a more desolate stretch of land than any they had flown over before. The girls noticed this as they sped on, the miles piling up in rapid succession.
This time they carried no lunch, for they had hesitated to ask at the hotel, and as the hours passed, they grew very hungry. Moreover, the sky was so cloudy that the sun was totally obscured, and they had to be guided entirely by instruments. Two or three times they seemed to get off their course, and it was almost five o'clock when they finally landed at an airport and inquired their way to Sunny Hills.
"It's about five miles north," they were told. "But wouldn't you rather leave your plane and taxi over?" their informer suggested.
"No, thanks," replied Linda. "Because we want to have our plane there, to use it if we need it, and to show to our friends. But we would love to have something to eat, if you can tell us where there is a stand for refreshments."
While the man was leading them to a sandwich booth, a mechanic came up and filled the plane with gas, and at Linda's request, looked it over hastily. Fifteen minutes later the girls took off again, having been assured that there was a field for landing at Sunny Hills, because, it seemed, the owner—or possibly the owner's son—had a plane.
As they descended over the field in back of the huge country house that was the home of the Stillmans the girls observed numerous people running out of the doors and from the porches to be on hand to welcome them. By the time they had landed, Louise counted seventeen.
"Hello, everybody!" she shouted, as the noise of the motor died. "Get our wire?"
"Surest thing!" answered a man of about thirty, tall and heavily-built, and smiling.
An elderly woman was pressing through the throng, holding out her arms to Louise.
"Aunt Margaret!" cried the girl, rapturously. "I'm so glad to see you! And I want to introduce my chum—Linda Carlton."
"I am more than delighted to meet you, my dear," said Mrs. Stillman, pressing Linda's hand—"I amproudto meet you!"
"Thank you," murmured the girl, her eyelids fluttering in embarrassment, for she felt that as yet she had done nothing to merit praise.
"And now I'll tell you everybody's name," continued the older woman. "Though I know you can't possibly remember them."
She proceeded to introduce her friends and her children—the latter all younger than Roger, the man who had first spoken to them, and evidently her oldest son. There were four small children among the group, two of them grandchildren of Mrs. Stillman.
"I want you girls to use my hangar," offered Roger, immediately. "My plane's away getting repaired. So shall I put yours away for you?"
"Oh, thanks!" replied Linda, gratefully."It's so nice to find another pilot—to do the honors, and the work!"
As the happy, noisy group walked with the two girls back to the house, they asked all sorts of questions at once, about the trip, the plane, the relatives back home. Louise and Linda answered as fast as they could, but finally gave up, laughing in their confusion.
"Now everybody stop talking!" commanded Mrs. Stillman, and though her tone was jovial, Linda could see at once that she meant what she said, and that she was used to being obeyed.
"Our brave flyers must be awfully tired, and this is no way to treat them, before they have even had a drink of water. Elsie," she nodded to a girl about Linda's age, "I want you to take the girls to their room, and I'll send up their suit-cases and some iced tea. And then they are going to have peace until dinner-time!"
"Oh, Aunt Margaret, we're not so tired," protested Louise. Still, the thought of a cool shower, iced tea, and a few minutes for a nap was very pleasant.
Elsie and Louise, who had been great friends when they were younger, spending several long, happy summers together, were both delighted at the chance of renewing their friendship. Linda, too, found Elsie charming, and the threegirls were soon chatting merrily over their iced tea.
"I want you to tell me the news of your family first," said Louise. "And begin in order, so Linda can get them straightened out. I mean—which ones are married, and which have children, and all that sort of thing."
"Yes, do," urged Linda. "I only know Roger—because he is a pilot—and you, by name."
A knock at the door interrupted them, and when Elsie answered it, two young men brought in the girls' suit-cases.
"The twins," explained their sister. "Dan and David. It really isn't hard to tell them apart, if you look closely."
"I remember!" cried Louise. "Your hair is curlier, isn't it, Dan? And David has a broken finger."
"Righto," agreed the latter, holding up his finger for inspection, and keeping his eyes on Linda. He had fallen for her charms already.
"You're excused," said Elsie, tersely.
"With many thanks," added Linda, graciously.
"Now begin over again," urged Louise, when the boys had gone. She began to open the suit-cases and to pull out the negligees, so that they could be perfectly comfortable.
"Well," continued Elsie, settling back in the pretty cretonne-covered chair that matched all the furnishings of the lovely, yet simple bedroom, "you know Aunt Margaret, of course. Those other two elderly women are friends—no need for you to learn their names.
"Of us, Roger is the oldest—he's thirty-one—and he isn't married. He's had dozens of girls, but I think he loves being a bachelor. He goes in for all kinds of racing—motorboat, automobile, and now airplane. And he adores young girls. You want to watch your step, Linda, for we're always expecting him to marry all of a sudden sometime. To somebody a whole lot younger!"
Linda smiled, and Louise shook her head knowingly.
"Linda's wise," she remarked.
"And Anita's the next oldest," went on Elsie. "I guess you didn't recognize her, did you, Louise? The stout woman, with those two children clinging to her."
"No, I didn't!" exclaimed her cousin. "But remember, it's been ten years since our family were here. I do recall her now—she was a High School graduate that summer. And so thin!"
"Well, she's fat now, and so is her husband. You'll see him tonight—they're spending thesummer here. They have two kids.... The twins come next—they're twenty-three, and then my other married sister Jennie. You remember Jen?"
"Naturally!"
"And I'm the baby!" concluded Elsie, cheerfully.
"But does that account for that whole crowd?" asked Linda. "Lou said she counted seventeen."
"Oh, the others were gardeners, and gardeners' children, and servants. There are twelve of us at dinner every night, with father and Anita's husband. And you girls will make fourteen."
"I always thought it would be wonderful to have a big family," sighed Linda. "My aunt and I live all alone, except once in a while when my father comes home."
"All the more reason why you should spend a couple of weeks with us!" urged Elsie, cordially.
"We'd love to, but we can't," answered Louise. "But we'll promise to come oftener, now that Linda has her Arrow."
"And that reminds me," put in Linda, "that we must call our folks."
Elsie handed her a telephone, which was ona little table beside the bed, and made her excuses and left them alone. It was almost time to dress for dinner.
Before the girls had answered the summons of the gong, the rain, which had been threatening all day long, came in torrents. But it did not dampen the spirits of the happy group that was gathered about the long table.
David Stillman, a starry-eyed young man with a serious expression, had managed to persuade his mother to let him sit next to Linda on her left, while Roger, the eldest, had naturally preëmpted the place on her right. The younger man, it seemed, believed her to be the ideal girl he had always dreamed of. He tried almost immediately to make her promise to play tennis with him, to go canoeing and swimming. Roger, on the other hand, saw two days' fun ahead of him, playing with the girls and the plane, and he made up his mind not to give his younger brother a chance.
Sizing up Linda immediately as a girl seriously interested in aviation, he began to talk on that subject, shutting out poor David completely. He told her about his plane, and the trips he had made, and the races he had won.
"But you are a new pilot, aren't you?" he asked her.
"Yes, why?" she asked. "Did I do anything wrong?"
"No, indeed! You fly like an old-timer. But what I mean is, you haven't gone in for any competitions yet, have you? Air-derbys, endurance flights—height records?"
"No, I haven't had time."
"But you will?"
"I don't know. I want to do something. But just what...."
"You have a wonderful opportunity," continued Roger. "Because you have ambition, and time, and youth—and enough money to back you." He paused to eat a generous slice of roast-beef. Unlike David, who was staring moodily at his plate and playing with his food, Roger ate with enormous appetite. "You see, the trouble with most of us is, that we haven't the time and the money. And the very rich are seldom ambitious."
"I am hoping to do something next year," Linda announced, slowly. "But not until I study some more."
"Wise girl!" was his comment. "I wish my kid brother—Dan—were of the same opinion. I can hardly keep him out of my plane—and he hasn't even a license. He's a perfect pest."
"Won't you please talk to me?" entreated a voice on the other side, and turning her head, Linda realized for the first time how she had been neglecting David.
"I'll give you all the rest of the dinner-time!" she said, laughingly. But the conversation at once became so general that she did not have a chance to keep her promise.
After dinner the rain abated, but nobody went out except Dan, who said he was always looking for adventure. But in such a crowd, they did not miss him; the young people danced and sang and played pool and ping-pong in the game-room.
They were just finishing some lemonade and cake which Mrs. Stillman had brought out for their refreshment, when a telegram arrived for Linda. Her mind flew instantly to Ted Mackay, wondering whether he had been arrested in spite of all her efforts to help him.
But the news proved worse than anything she had expected. It was from her aunt.
"Your father seriously hurt. Fly to ranch at once."
Helplessly, she handed the telegram to Mrs. Stillman, who read it aloud to the others. Heroically, Linda managed to keep from crying.
"Thank Heaven for the Pursuit!" cried Louise, who had her arms about her chum. "We'll get there in no time."
"Let me go with you," suggested Roger.
"No—thank you," stammered Linda, clinging to Louise. "I need Lou—more than anybody."
"Well, then, I'll map out your course for you," offered the young man. "It's strange country to you?"
"Yes. I've never been to this ranch before. Dad had another one that I used to visit, when I was a child." And she gave Roger the exact location.
Ten minutes later, with their arms still entwined, Linda and Louise went up to their room, having exacted a promise from Mrs. Stillman to waken them at five o'clock the following morning.
At seven o'clock the following morning, after eating the hearty breakfast upon which Mrs. Stillman insisted, the girls entered the Pursuit, and taxied off, waving farewell to Elsie, Roger, and their hostess. Of the large family, only these three—and the cook—had risen in time to say good-by. Even David had overslept; but his eldest brother was on hand to help the girls get their start.
Fortunately, the rain was over, and both Linda and Roger believed that, barring mishaps, the flyers should reach their destination early in the afternoon. With this hope, both girls kept their spirits high; they refused to worry about Linda's father until they saw for themselves. For Miss Carlton was likely to look upon the dark side of things, and it was probable too that the help at the ranch were frightened by the accident to their employer.
Tears of gratitude came to Linda's eyes when she saw the enormous lunch which Mrs.Stillman had been able to provide at such short notice, and she did not know how to thank the kind woman or her son. So she merely smiled gratefully, and waved good-by.
Louise kept the map of their course in her lap, and for two hours they flew on, making no attempt to talk, but every once in a while pressing each other's hand in sympathy and affection.
As the sun was growing hotter and higher in the sky, Linda was beginning to wonder whether they were not somewhat off their course. She examined the map.
"We ought to be nearing that town!" she shouted, pointing to a spot which Roger indicated by a large dot on the map. "And I don't believe that we are."
"Fly lower!" suggested Louise. "Let's see!"
Cautiously the young pilot descended, but though both girls looked eagerly, there were no roofs or other evidences of a town. An almost continuous expanse of shrubbery seemed to cover the ground, and Linda did not care to land.
So she went higher again, and pointed her plane south, trusting that they were right.
For two hours more they continued to fly without seeing any of the landmarks for whichthey were so eagerly watching. Afterwards Linda remarked that she believed they had been going in a circle.
The sun was almost directly overhead now, and both girls were feeling hungry, for their breakfast, though substantial, had been an early one. They were just considering opening their box to eat, when Linda noticed a queer noise in the motor.
"Something's wrong, Lou!" she shouted, trying to smile as if she were not worried. "We'll have to land."
"Here?" gasped Louise, in horror.
"Yes. Watch the ground! We must find a good place."
Louise was gazing about at the sky and the horizon, when, turning around, she happened to glance at her companion's face. A set look had come into Linda's eyes, her lips were rigid. Uneven, yet deafening, was the threatening sound of the motor. Suddenly it let off a terrific explosion.
"Will we be killed?" screamed Louise, hoarsely.
Linda did not try to answer. She needed every ounce of brain power, of energy for the test that was ahead of her. She was working frantically with the joystick. So Louise too, keptquiet, and looked over the side of the plane—and prayed.
At first it seemed they were dropping terrifically; but gradually, frightened though she was, she could feel that some safety device was taking hold. The speed was lessening. Down, down they went, but more gradually now.
And then they were close enough to the ground to see it. A woods of stumpy trees stretched under them, but over to the right was a field. Would Linda be able to guide the plane there, or must they be dashed against the tree-tops, to meet a sickening death?
How would it feel to be dead, Louise wondered. And oh, her poor mother and father! Even in those few seconds, it seemed as if her whole life flashed before her, and although she was really a very sweet girl, she believed herself a monster of ingratitude. Not a bit like Linda—who was always thinking of her Aunt Emily and her father!
Linda, on the other hand, had no time for any such thoughts. She was working as she had never worked before, guiding her stricken plane. And—miracle of miracles—they were passing the tree-tops! They were over a field of weeds.
"Thank God!" cried Louise, reverently.
"Wait!" whispered Linda, not sure yet that they were safe.
The landing was not easy. The plane came down and hit the ground and bounced up again. Suppose it should pancake? Linda held her breath, suffering greater agony than Louise, who knew less of the dangers. But in a moment the valiant little Arrow came to a stop, in the shrubbery.
In a rapture of relief and thanksgiving, Louise grasped Linda and kissed her, while the tears ran down the young pilot's face. For a moment the girls sat thus in silent embrace, each too filled with emotion to speak.
"Come, let's get out, Lou," said Linda, finally, and shakily they both stepped from the plane.
"I wonder where we are," remarked Louise, trying to make her voice sound natural.
"We'll get out our maps and study the situation. But first let's eat. I'm simply famished. It must be noon at least."
They found upon consulting Louise's wrist-watch that it was ten minutes of one.
Resolutely deciding to be cheerful, they opened the hamper which Louise's Aunt Margaret had packed. What a delicious lunch!
There was a whole roast chicken, and tinydainty lettuce sandwiches—at least a dozen of them. Pears and cherries, and lemonade in a thermos bottle. And a beautiful little layer cake evidently baked just especially for them, though how the cook had managed it, they had no idea. They spread out the paper cloth and attacked the food ravenously.
"It looks pretty desolate around here," remarked Louise, as she nibbled at a chicken leg. "I don't see a house in sight."
"Or a road either, for that matter," returned Linda. "I wish we could get to a telephone—and send a call for assistance."
They ate silently for a while. How good the food tasted! In spite of their distress and worry, both girls enjoyed that lunch.
"Have you any idea what is wrong with the plane?" asked Louise, as she broke off a piece of chocolate cake. "It was all right yesterday."
"Yes. That mechanic at the airport gave it a hasty examination. Funny he didn't notice anything so serious as this.... Louise, do you suppose that Roger could have done anything to it?"
"No," answered Louise, thoughtfully. "No; I think Roger knows what he's about. But I have an idea, Linda."
"What?"
"Do you remember hearing a plane very close to the house when we were playing ping-pong last night?"
"Yes. I thought it was the air-mail."
"So did I. But I believe now it was the Pursuit—with Dan piloting!"
"Dan Stillman?"
"Yes. He's a regular daredevil. And you know Roger won't let him fly his plane."
A pained look came into Linda's eyes, as if she herself had been mistreated.
"Oh, Lou, that seems awful," she said. "He wouldn't do a thing like that, would he?"
"He must have. Remember, he went out right after supper. And he's so conceited. He wouldn't think he could hurt it. But I'll tell you how to find out—look at the gas. You remember you had her filled at that airport."
Holding their cake in their hands, both girls dashed excitedly back to the plane and looked at the dial which indicated how much gasoline was left. And, sure enough, the supply was running low! Too low to be accounted for by the flying they had done that morning. In fact, it was almost gone.
"You're right!" cried Linda. "Oh, Lou, now we're in a worse pickle than ever. We'll never get to Daddy!" The tears ran down her cheeks.
"Don't!" urged her chum, putting her arms around the other girl. "Don't give up yet! We'll find somebody—on some road—who will send a mechanic to us. And we'll be at the ranch before night!"
"I hope so!" replied Linda, bravely trying to keep up her courage.
They went back to the spot where their lunch was spread—luckily there was plenty left for supper, in case they needed it—and packed the remainder again. Then, arm in arm, they set out in quest of a road. They walked in an easterly direction; that much they knew from the sun.
What they saw appeared to be a flat country, without even any fences or signs of cultivation. Gazing off in the distance, they could faintly distinguish the outline of a house—but it might be five miles away, or it might be fifteen. Or it might not be a house at all; perhaps just some abandoned building or mill.
For half an hour they walked aimlessly onward, till they finally reached a dirt road.
"This is encouraging," said Louise, hopefully. "Let's drop down and wait here till something passes. We don't want to get too far from the plane—if we get out of sight, we might not be able to find our way back."
They sat down on some moss by a small tree and consulted the time. It was half-past two.
Everything was extremely still. No noise of motor or traffic anywhere. No voices. So strange after the places they were used to, for even Green Falls was noisy. And the birds were quiet, too—or perhaps there weren't many, for there were no big trees.
Linda yawned. "I'm so sleepy."
"Take a nap," suggested Louise. "You deserve one!"
"Hardly fair," returned the other. "Aren't you sleepy too?"
"Not so sleepy as you are. Go ahead! I'll wake you if anything comes along."
"And suppose nothing does?"
"Then I'll wake you anyway at three o'clock. We'll have to strike out in some other direction."
So Linda curled up and went to sleep, and Louise, yawning, wondered how she could possibly manage to keep awake. The whole atmosphere was so drowsy—and there was nothing to do.
"If only there were a place to swim," she thought, regretfully. "Cold water would make me a different girl!"
But there wasn't any water at all, as far asshe knew; indeed, she and Linda didn't dare wash in the small supply they carried with them. For they might need it for drinking.
She never knew how it happened, but soon she too was peacefully asleep. For two whole hours both girls slept the dreamless sleep of fatigue. Then, at a quarter of five they were suddenly awakened by the rattle of an old, tumble-down cart, pulled by a haggard horse. The girls sat up with a start, and looked at each other and laughed.
Jumping to her feet in an instant, Louise ran hastily towards the driver. He was staring at them with great curiosity.
"We have been in an airplane accident, and we want to get to a telephone—" began Louise.
But the man only shook his head and grinned.
"Nicht versteh'," he replied, helplessly.
"He's a foreigner," said Louise, turning back to where Linda was standing. "A German, who doesn't understand English."
"I can speak German," said Linda. "At least, I had some, Freshman year. Let me try him!"
But already he was driving away.
"Wo ghen Sie?" called Linda. "Warte!"
He stopped driving, evidently amazed at her words, and pointed to the road ahead of him.
Encouraged by this display of intelligence, Louise jumped up on the cart, and waved her arms in the direction of the airplane, in the field half a mile away.
"We wanthelp!" she cried. Then, turning to Linda, "What's the German word for help?"
"I don't know," answered the other girl. "But I think he understands. If he does meet anybody, I think he'd send them to us."
So Louise climbed down again, and waved good-by to the man as he continued on with his cart, and, faintly encouraged, the girls went back to the plane to eat their supper.
Many thoughts raced through Linda's mind, as she and Louise sat beside the airplane, nibbling at their frugal supper. For this time, they had decided to eat sparingly; nobody knew how long they might have to stay there, without any more food.
But all of Linda's thoughts were regrets. Regret that her father had met with an accident, regret that Dan Stillman had borrowed her Arrow, regret that she was unable to locate the trouble herself and repair it.
Louise, with her usual practical cheerfulness, interrupted these gloomy meditations.
"We have three good hours of daylight left, Linda," she announced, glancing at her watch. "To try another direction. There must be a real road around here somewhere—where automobiles go. Texas isn't the end of the world."
"If we're actually in Texas!" returned Linda. "It may be Oklahoma, for all we know."
"But Oklahoma has roads, too. Come on, finish your cake! We must hurry."
Taking their coats along, for the night gave promise of being cooler, the girls set off in the opposite direction from the one they had taken that afternoon. This time they had to go right through the shrubbery—the dangerous shrubbery which had threatened disaster to their landing.
"This is awful!" exclaimed Louise, pausing to pull a brier from her sweater. "There can't be any road here."
"On the contrary, I think we'll be more likely to find one, once we get through this. The very fact that we can't see beyond is hopeful."
"That's true," admitted Louise, starting on again.
They walked for some time, carefully picking their way through the undergrowth, thankful that they were wearing breeches. At last they came to a more open space, and stopped to look about them.
"No road!" exclaimed Louise, in disappointment.
"But that looks like a stream over there, Lou—between those two banks!" cried Linda.
"Oh, if it only is! Then we could have a swim!"
"If we ought to take the time."
"I think we might as well, Linda, because it'sgoing to get too dark for us to take a chance getting lost tonight. Let's have our swim and go back to the plane to sleep. Then tomorrow morning we'll start to hike—if we have to go all the way to the ranch on foot!"
"We won't have to do that, because we have plenty of money," Linda reminded her. "Once we get back to civilization, our dollars will be some good. And, even if we have to leave the Pursuit, and never see her again, it would be worth it to get to Daddy!"
Having come to this decision, the girls hurried rapidly towards the stream, and then, taking off their flyers' suits carefully, under cover of their coats, in case there should be some human being around, they both plunged in.
The water felt cold, and oh, so refreshing! They swam happily for some minutes, forgetful of all their worries, in the joy of the invigorating pastime.
When they had gone some distance, Linda suddenly realized how swift the current was, out in the middle of the creek. Already they were several hundred yards downstream.
"Lou!" she called. "We must be careful of this current!"
Her chum did not answer, and Linda suddenly experienced another sickening momentof dread. Suppose Louise were unconscious! She turned around, but she could not see the other girl.
However, the creek turned sharply at this point, and Linda reassured herself with the hope that Louise was beyond the bend. She swam in to where it was shallow enough for her to stand up, and cupped her hands and called.
"Lou! Oh, Lou!"
"Yes!" came the instant reply. "Around the bend."
Linda hurried around the cliff which separated her chum from sight, and there, to her amazement, she beheld a shattered airplane. The wings and the propeller were gone—had evidently been floated out on the stream and swept away on the current, and the plane itself was smashed to pieces. Louise was standing beside it, holding a man's coat in her hand.
"Ye gods!" cried Linda, shocked by the horror of such a wreck. "How terrible!"
But Louise was searching the pockets of the coat madly, excitedly, as if she had no thought for the man who had been killed.
"Look, Linda!" she cried triumphantly. "I had an inspiration it might be your thief! I've got it!"
"What?" demanded the other.
"The necklace!"
Both girls held their breath while Louise steadied her nervous fingers and opened the box—a cheap pasteboard affair, totally unlike the original one in which Kitty Clavering's pearls had been sold. To Linda's unbelieving eyes, she held up the costly jewels.
Louise dropped down on the ground, absolutely overcome with emotion, and Linda sat beside her, examining the necklace for herself, as if she could not believe her eyes. But there was no doubt about it; it was the real thing this time.
"That man didn't know much about flying," remarked Linda, finally. "I suppose, though, he realized that his only chance of escape lay in getting over the border.... But Lou, if his coat is here, why isn't he?"
"He probably took off his coat before anything happened. But his body may be somewhere in the wreckage. I—I'd just as soon not see it, wouldn't you, Linda?"
"Of course not," replied the other, with a shudder of repulsion. "Come on, Lou, let's go. But don't let's try to swim with that necklace. I'd rather walk."
"So would I."
Both girls scrambled to their feet, and startedback towards their coats. Suddenly Linda stopped, horrified by what she saw. Over in a little cove, away from the main stream, were not one, but two bodies, half floating, half caught on the shore by the weeds and underbrush.
"It's the thief, all right," she managed to say. "And I wonder who the other man was."
Louise squinted her eyes; she had no desire to go any closer, and in the fading light it was hard to see clearly.
"He looks—as—if—he had red hair," she announced, slowly. "That would explain about the gasoline agent, who tried to put the blame on Ted Mackay."
"Of course!" cried Linda. "Isn't it all horrible? As if any necklace could be worth this! I wonder when it happened."
"Probably last night, during the storm. That would be too much for an inexperienced flyer."
"Of course."
The girls picked up their clothing and dressed hurriedly, reaching the plane just as it was beginning to get dark.
"Let's make a fire," suggested Linda, "and tell each other stories till we get sleepy. We mustn't try to go to sleep too early on this hard ground, especially after having had naps."
"Are you scared at all, Linda?" asked Louise.
"No. What of? Ghosts—or tramps?"
"Both."
"Well, I'm not afraid of tramps or robbers because I have my pistol—Daddy made me promise to take it with me on all my flights—and I'm just not going to let myself be worried about ghosts. After all, those two dead men deserved their fate, didn't they? And I mean to forget them. Now, tell me a story!"
"What about?"
"Some nice new novel you've read that I haven't."
So Louise began the story of "Father Means Well"—a very amusing book she had just finished, and the girls kept their camp-fire going until eleven o'clock. Then, when both were certain that they were sleepy, they spread out Louise's raincoat on the ground, and, crawling close together, put Linda's on top of them. Almost instantly they were asleep, forgetful of accidents and thieves, not to waken until the sun was brightly shining again.
From the moment that Ted Mackay had been shot by the thief who stole Kitty Clavering's necklace, everything had gone wrong for him. Not only had he been wounded and forced to lose time from work, but the new plane, which was worth thousands of dollars to his company, had been stolen. And, in view of the fact that the robber was not a licensed pilot, it was very unlikely that the plane would stand the test, even if it were ever recovered.
Then, added to his other troubles, Ted had been accused of being in league with the thief! Ralph Clavering believed he was guilty, and so did Mr. Carlton. But what worried him most was whether Linda thought so too.
The little nurse at the hospital had been a great comfort, believing in Ted as she did, implicitly, from the first. But when he had gone home, he said nothing to his mother of the suspicions aroused against him. The good woman had enough to worry about, with the unhappylife she led, and the constant menace of his father's returning in trouble or in need of money. But Ted's conscience was clear; all the detective's in the world could not make him a criminal when he knew that he was innocent.
He wasn't surprised, however, when two men arrived at his home the day after he had reached it. Two plainclothes men, with warrants for his arrest.
His first anxiety was of course for his mother. If she should believe that he was following in his father's footsteps! Why, at her age, and after all she had been through, the shock might kill her! Her one comfort in life had always been that her three children were fine, honest citizens, that her teaching and training had been rewarded.
Fortunately when the detectives arrived, she was out in the back yard, working in her little garden. But what could Ted do? To argue with these men would only arouse her attention, bring her hurrying to the front porch to see what was the matter. For she seemed to live in daily fear of trouble between her husband and the law.
"But you have no evidence to arrest me," Ted objected, quietly, in answer to the man's brusque statement.
"You are wrong there! We have evidence. The gasoline agent, who sold you gas for the plane. The description fits you perfectly—a great big fellow, with red hair. Besides, you were caught in the very place where the other thief escaped."
"But I had nothing to do with it! I can prove it!"
"How?"
"By other men in the company——"
"Are they here?" interrupted the detective, with a hard, sneering look.
"No—but——"
"Then you will come with us until such time as you prove your innocence. One of us will go inside with you while you get whatever things you want."
Ted looked about him helplessly. Oh, how could he keep the news from his mother? It would break her heart!
And his career! What would this sort of thing do to that? Did it mean that, just as he was hoping to make his mark in the world, and rendering valuable assistance to his family, all must stop? With a gesture of utter despair he gazed up into the skies, where he heard the noise of an airplane, coming nearer and lower.
For a moment the other men forgot theirduties, and likewise looked up into the air. For the plane was certainly flying very low indeed, actually circling over their heads. And its roar was insistent; it would not be ignored.
At last it became plain to Ted that the pilot wanted to land. So the young man held up his arm and pointed to field on the right of his house.
Wondering what its business could be, and interested in the plane as everybody is, although it is a common sight, the detectives waited to find out what would happen.
What they actually saw was certainly worth looking at. The pilot was an experienced flyer, and his landing, in the small area of this field, was as neat as anything they had ever witnessed. Both men watched with admiration and awe.
When the motor had been turned off, and the pilot stepped from the plane, Ted recognized him instantly. Sam Hunter—the best salesman, the most experienced flyer of their company!
"Sam!" he exclaimed with genuine pleasure, for although Ted had been with his firm only a short time, this man was an old friend.
"Ted! Old boy! How are you?" cried the other, clasping his hand in a hearty handshake. "How's the shoulder?"
"Pretty good," replied Ted. "I'm ready to go back to work, if I take it a little easy. But—" he paused and glanced at the two men beside him—"these fellows don't want to let me."
"Doctors?" inquired Sam, though Ted's manner of referring to them seemed queer—almost rude. He hadn't introduced them—a courtesy due them if they were doctors, or men in any way worthy of respect.
"They're detectives," explained Ted. "Sorry I can't introduce you, Sam, but they did not favor me with their names. They've come here with a warrant for my arrest."
"By heck!" ejaculated Sam. "Then the little lady was right! The pretty aviatrix who was so worried about you! And I'm just in time!"
"I don't know what you mean."
Sam put his hand into his pocket, and produced the paper which Mr. Jordan had dictated and three of the men had signed. He handed it to the detectives, both of whom read it at once.
"All right," said one of them, briefly, as he handed it back to Sam. "Good-by."
Without another word they turned and fled to their automobile and immediately drove away.
Ted stood gazing at Sam in amazement, unable to understand what his friend had done,how he had been able to accomplish what seemed like a miracle. In a few words the latter told him of Linda's visit, and her insistence upon the written alibi.
He finished his explanation and Ted had just time to warn Sam not to mention the matter to his mother, when the latter appeared, dressed in a clean linen, beaming at both the boys.
"Are you willing to have me take Ted back again?" asked Sam, after he had been introduced. "Because we need him, if he's well enough to go."
"I'll be sorry to lose him, of course," she answered with a motherly smile. "But I always want Ted to do his duty. And I think he'll be all right if he is careful. But first let me give you an early supper, so that you can do most of your flying by daylight."
Sam accepted the invitation with pleasure, and as the boys sat down at five o'clock to that splendid home-cooked meal, it seemed to Ted that he was perfectly happy again. He knew now that his company believed in his innocence; best of all, he had the reassurance that Linda Carlton shared that opinion!
It was good to be in a plane again, he thought, as they took off, half an hour later. Good to beup in the skies, with Sam—who was a friend indeed!
The whole trip was pleasant, and Mr. Jordan's greeting was just as cordial as Sam's. When the former heard what a life-saver his message had been, he was more impressed than ever with the cleverness of the two girls who had visited him.
"And if you'd like to see them and thank them yourself," he continued, "I'll arrange for you to combine it with a visit to our Denver field. The girls are out there in Colorado, they said—'Sunny Hills', I believe the name of the village is."
"Thank you, sir!" cried Ted, in delight and gratitude. "I don't deserve that—after letting that other plane get away from me!"
"Not your fault a bit!" protested the older man. "We've got insurance. Still—if you could happen to sell one on your trip, it would be a big help to us."
"I'll do my best, Mr. Jordan. Now—when do I start?"
"Tomorrow morning. At dawn, if you like."
So it happened that when Linda and Louise were taking off for their trip to Texas, that was halted so sadly, Ted Mackay, at the very same hour, was flying to Denver.
He reached his destination without mishap, and went back to Sunny Hills that night. He had some difficulty in finding the place, stopping as the girls had, at the airport to inquire, and reaching the Stillman estate about ten o'clock that night.
Thinking naturally that the airplane was Linda's, and that the girls were back again for some reason, Roger and his brothers went out to welcome them.
Ted explained quickly that he was a friend of Miss Carlton—it was the first time he had ever made such a statement, and there was pride in his tone—and that, as he had just been to Denver, he wanted to stop over here and see her for a few minutes.
"Shucks! That's too bad!" exclaimed Roger with regret. "Miss Carlton left this morning for her father's ranch in Texas."
Ted's smile faded; the ranch was the one place where he could not visit Linda.
"But you must come in and make yourself at home. Stay all night—you won't want to fly any more tonight. Why!" he cried, noticing Ted's bandage, "you've been hurt!"
"Last week," replied the other. "It's almost well now. But—really, Mr. Stillman, though Ithank you, I have no right to impose on your hospitality!"
"It's a pleasure, I'm sure. Besides, I want to look at your plane by daylight. I'm in the market for a new airplane. My old one's being repaired now, but it's so hopelessly out of date I thought I'd try to trade it in."
Instantly Ted became the business man, the salesman, and while he accepted Roger's invitation to put his plane into the other's hangar, he told of all its merits.
So interested were they that they talked for an hour before they went into the house. Then Roger was all apologies, for he knew Ted had had no supper.
He hunted his mother, who was sitting disconsolately at the telephone.
"I'm worried about the girls," she told them. "They didn't phone from the ranch, as they promised, and I have just finished calling it, by long distance. They haven't arrived."
"But they had plenty of time!" insisted Roger. "They started at seven o'clock this morning!"
"Something must have happened," said Mrs. Stillman, anxiously. "Airplanes are so dangerous!"
"I think I know why—if anything did happen," explained Roger, slowly. "It isn't airplanes that are so dangerous as inexperienced pilots. I found out that Dan had Linda's plane out last night, alone."
"Dan?" Mrs. Stillman was horrified. "But he never flew alone in his life!"
"No, because I saw to it that he didn't. But he admitted that he borrowed the Arrow last night."
"This is serious," put in Ted. "We ought to do something—right away!"
"What can we do? I made the girls a map, but they may be off their course. I have no plane—and your time's not your own, Mr. Mackay."
"But I'll have to do something!" cried Ted, excitedly. "Even if I lose my job on account of it! It may be a question of life or death!"
"I'll tell you what I'll do," decided Roger. "I'll buy that plane of yours. I want it anyhow. And tomorrow morning at dawn we'll go on a search.... Now, mother, can you give Mr. Mackay something to eat—and a room?"
Gratefully the young man accepted the hospitable offers of his new friends and, pleased with the sale he had put through, he fell instantly asleep, not to awaken until Roger bothknocked at his door and threw pillows at him the next morning.
He dressed and they left in short order, after a hearty breakfast, however, and armed with a lunch perhaps not so dainty as that provided for the girls, but at least as satisfying. Roger reconstructed the map, like the one he had made for Linda, and they flew straight for the nearest airport.
Unfortunately, however, they got no information there, no news of a wreck, or of two girls flying in a biplane. But their time was not wasted, for they took the opportunity to question one of the flyers who seemed familiar with the territory around him. They asked particularly about the more lonely, desolate parts of the near-by country, where an airplane accident would not quickly be discovered.
"There's a stretch about ten miles south of here," the man informed them, indicating a spot on Roger's rough map. "Not a farm or a village, as far as I know, except one old shack where a German lives. He hid there during the War, because he didn't want to be sent home, and he has continued to live on there ever since. He has a sort of garden, I believe—just enough to keep him alive—with the fish he catches. And a few apple trees. Once in a while he drives inhere with his apples. I could tell you pretty near where he lives, because I was stranded there once myself. You could drop down and ask him if he heard any planes."
Eagerly the two young men marked the spot and set off once more in their plane, flying in the direction indicated. Before nine o'clock they came to the shack, which was the building that Linda and Louise had spied at a distance. They found the man frying fish on a fire in front of his tumble-down house.
Their landing had been of sufficient distance to avoid frightening him, but near enough for him to hear them. They hurried towards him, Roger almost shouting the question about the girls, before he actually reached him.
But, like Linda and Louise, when they tried to talk to this man, Roger received a shrug of his shoulders in reply, and a muttered, "Nicht versteh."
Unlike the girls, however, Roger commanded a good knowledge of German, and he translated the question with ease into the foreign language.
To both flyers' unbounded delight, they were rewarded with the information that they so longed to hear. The girls were safe—and not far away!