Chapter XIII
>The Masque Ball
The gay young set at Green Falls to which Linda belonged had planned nothing for that afternoon except the regular swim, for the ball would be late, and the donning of their costumes would take a good deal of time. Linda, however, even passed up the swim in favor of a nap, for she was very tired. Besides, she had no desire to meet Ralph at the lake or anywhere else.
Like all the social affairs at this charming resort, the masque ball – the greatest event of the season, with the possible exception of the field day at the close – began early. Dinner at the Carltons was over by half-past seven, and, after assuring herself that Linda's costume was to her satisfaction, Miss Carlton left the bungalow. She was a patroness, of course, and she wanted to get to the Casino early, to pass final judgment upon the decorations and the music.
Harriman Smith arrived at half-past eight, in a taxi, for as one of the poorer members of the crowd, he did not possess a car of his own. Linda, in the filmy dress of the fairy queen, with a crown of golden stars about her hair, welcomed him into the bungalow.
"Linda!" exclaimed the young man, in positive awe. "I never saw anyone so beautiful in my whole life!"
She smiled shyly, pleased at the compliment. But of course as yet he had not seen the other girls in their costumes!
"It's the dress," she explained modestly. "If there's any credit, it should go to Aunt Emily. She selected it… I like your costume, too, Harry. You're Robin Hood, aren't you?"
"Yes – I'm glad you can recognize me, anyway… But Linda, seriously, I just know you'll take the prize for the most beautiful woman!"
"I didn't know there was a prize."
"Of course there is. And for the most handsome man. And the best dancers – and the funniest… Probably some more I don't remember… But I guess you never think much about prizes."
"I do about some prizes," she admitted. "Cups for endurance flights, and high altitudes – and things like that!"
"Naturally – trust you to be up on anything connected with airplanes. I suppose you'll be winning some of them yourself sometime. But when it comes to social events – "
"Well, you're often the same way, Harry," she teased. "Look at the parties you passed up last winter, just because of your engineering course!"
The boy smiled, not at all displeased by the observation, for he was a youth who took his studies seriously. Unlike Maurice Stetson and Ralph Clavering, who seemed interested only in the fraternities and the sports at college, he went there with the idea of working. And he liked Linda all the better for recognizing his ambition and understanding it.
"But we oughtn't to stand here talking, forgetting all about your taxi," Linda reminded her companion. "Why don't you dismiss it, and take my car?"
"A queen mustn't drive!" he protested. "And you wouldn't like me to run your car – "
"I don't mind you, Harry. You're never careless. It's people like Maurice that I can't bear to see handle it."
"I don't blame you one bit," he said, and realizing that she would really prefer to go in her own roadster, he did as she suggested.
All the way to the Casino they both carefully avoided any mention of Kitty Clavering's loss, or, in fact, of anything distasteful – even the quarrel with Ralph and the change of plans which had thrown them together as partners. Linda asked him how the different members of the crowd had paired off, and Harry told her as much as he had happened to learn at the lake that afternoon. Kit and Maurice were of course going together, and Dot Crowley and Jim Valier – the smallest and the tallest members of their set. Sara Wheeler had promised Jackson Stiles, and Harry seemed to recall that Sue Emery was accompanying Joe Sinclair. He did not mention Louise and Ralph.
It was just a little before nine when they reached the Casino, gayly lighted with Japanese lanterns, and decorated with flowers and streamers. The wide French windows of the dance hall were all thrown open, and the huge verandas were as beautifully lighted as the inside of the Casino. Strains of music floated out from the orchestra, which was already in place. Upstairs there would be bridge tables for the older members of the party and the supper would be served on the roof-garden.
As the couple entered the wide doors of the Casino, a surging of pride swept through the young man because of the girl at his side. In spite of her mask, people must recognize Linda Carlton, so stately, so lovely, so charming! With what wisdom her aunt had chosen that costume! The girl was every inch a queen.
In the dressing-room there was naturally a great deal of excitement, for the girls were all trying to identify each other. Linda spotted Louise immediately – dressed as an Egyptian Princess. Her costume was unusual, daring; she stood out among all the others as a sunflower might among a bunch of spring blossoms. And of course she wore huge, odd, earrings.
"Linda, you're sweet!" she cried, starting forward to kiss her chum, and stopping just in time as she remembered the make-up on her lips, and the amount of time she had consumed putting it there.
"Sh!" warned Linda. "Don't give me away!"
"I won't, darling. But everybody will know you anyhow. Come on – you couldn't possibly improve yourself! And we must hurry. I hear them lining up now for the grand march."
A laughing, happy group, the girls made their way back to the ballroom where their partners claimed them. It amused Linda – and yet it hurt her a little, too – to see Ralph Clavering lead Louise away without even seeming to notice her. But Harry Smith was right there too, as if to protect his partner from any unpleasantness.
The music of the grand march rolled out triumphantly, and the couples fell into step, circling the big room, and walking past the committee on the raised platform, whose members were to pass judgment on the costumes for the awarding of the prizes. As Linda walked demurely at Harry's side, past this intent, solemn body of men and women, she never lifted her eyes. She was all the more amazed when, a couple of minutes later, she heard a childish voice cry out above the music.
"Does 'ou fink me cute?" and, turning about, Linda recognized Dot Crowley, dressed as a little school-girl, and actually calling attention to herself. Of course everybody laughed; you just had to smile at Dot. And her long-legged partner, Jim Valier, dressed appropriately as Uncle Sam, looked so out-of-place at her side.
The costumes were really marvelous; if Linda had not come for any other reason than to see them, it would have been worth while. There were several hundred people at the ball the proceeds of which were given entirely to charity, and though there were naturally many repetitions – numerous George and Martha Washingtons, Pierrots and Pierrettes, clowns and gypsies, there were also many unusual ones. But although she did not realize it, there was no one in that whole assembly so charmingly beautiful as Linda Carlton.
The grand march consumed almost an hour, after which the judges withdrew to make their decisions, and then the dancing began.
The floor was perfect and the music excellent; Linda fell into step with her partner and gave herself up to the enjoyment the pastime always afforded her. Whenever she had a good partner like Harry – or Ralph – she always experienced a marvelous sensation of floating along to the strains of the music, a sensation that somehow reminded her of flying. And then they passed Ralph and Louise, and Linda wondered whether the former would ask her to dance.
After that she danced with all the boys she knew, in turn – all except Ralph. Even when Harry managed a dance with Louise, while Linda was dancing with a stag, Ralph did not cut in. But this did not spoil her good time, for she felt that she had been in the right, championing Ted, even though her father was on the other side.
Ralph's avoidance of her niece had not escaped Miss Carlton's eyes, and she sighed. Why was there always some drawback to rich people, she wondered? But perhaps Ralph would get over his childishness when he grew older. And in the meantime Linda did not lack for attention.
Just before the party went up to the roof for supper, the prizes were awarded. Linda Carlton won first prize for the women – and, ludicrous as it was, Ralph Clavering, as King Arthur, was selected first among the men. They walked across the floor together, Linda giving him a shy smile. To Louise and Harry, and Miss Carlton, who knew about the tiff, the coincidence was very amusing.
Two other guests whom Linda did not know were awarded the prizes for the funniest costumes, and, to their own amazement, Louise and Ralph were called out as the couple who had given the best exhibition of dancing. There was no shyness as these two stepped forward. Ralph, looking roguish, held out his arms and whistled a tune, and as Louise slipped into them, they waltzed across the floor.
The supper was gorgeous in every detail: the food was excellent, the service perfect. Linda felt that she had never been to quite so magnificent a party before.
"You do like all this, don't you, Linda?" asked her partner, as they finished their ice-cream, molded in fancy forms, like small dolls or figurines, in pastel colors. "You really like parties? Because I sometimes wonder – "
"I love them," replied the girl, her eyes shining. "That is, when they come once or twice a summer, like this. But I would get awfully tired of them if I had nothing else."
"But next winter," he reminded her, "when you are a débutante – "
"I'm going to try not to be," she interrupted. "If I can slide out of it, without hurting Aunt Emily's feelings. I want to go to a ground school, and study aviation seriously."
"You mean make it your life work?" he asked, respectfully.
"Yes – seriously."
But it was no time to talk; the music had started again, and everybody wanted to make good use of the last, best hour of the party.
And so for all that evening, Linda Carlton was the care-free, popular girl that her Aunt Emily loved her to be.
Chapter XIV
The Flying Trip
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!" she cried, 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 telegrams ahead. 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," agreed Linda, 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 sure that 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 showed no 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 a gasoline 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 squeezed the 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.