Chapter XVII
Enemies
The day of Linda Carlton's flight to Birmingham, Alabama, was warm and spring-like. It was only a false spring, to be sure, the kind that sometimes comes suddenly in February, making everyone long to be out of doors. How lucky for her, she thought. If it would only last a couple of days!
Nancy Bancroft was already at the school when Linda arrived, alert and eager for the trip. She had just received her private pilot's license a few days previous, but she did not expect to attempt to guide the autogiro. Nevertheless, she would be company for the more experienced aviatrix.
Half an hour's instruction was all that Mr. Eckers considered necessary, and before nine o'clock the girls took off for the South. Linda couldn't help singing for joy. The autogiro was so much fun!
"Dad's going to buy me a plane," Nancy informed her companion. "As soon as I get home next week."
"Next week?" repeated Linda.
"Yes. I'm leaving the school as soon as we get back. I have my license, you know – that's what I wanted."
Linda was silent, thinking of Mr. Eckers' remark about girls the day before. Yes, he must be right, their ambition usually ended with the government's permission to fly.
"I'll miss you dreadfully, Nance!" was all she said.
"You must fly to New York often," urged the other.
The country over which the girls were flying was beautiful and the air delightful. As they went farther south, they recognized real evidences of spring in the foliage. The little plane hummed gayly on, with never a disturbance in its sturdy motor. Linda was exceedingly happy.
Noon-time came, and they ate their sandwiches and drank the coffee which Linda's kind-hearted landlady had insisted upon providing, but they did not stop. Everything was going so wonderfully that they hated to break the spell. At this rate they ought to reach Birmingham long before dark.
It was about two o'clock that they met with a strange adventure. Flying along at an even rate, high enough to span the woods that loomed ahead of them, there suddenly appeared, out of nowhere it seemed, what the girls thought to be a formation of airplanes.
"Go carefully!" warned Nancy. "Don't forget that awful accident a while ago, when several planes were flying in formation!"
Linda curved to the side, but the planes seemed to be flying straight at her.
"They haven't any sense at all!" she cried, in exasperation, now seriously fearing disaster.
On they rushed, till a cold fear gripped Linda's heart. Try as she might, she couldn't get out of their way! It was all like a dreadful dream, when something menacing rushes inevitably towards you, yet you are powerless to stop. Then, in a flash, Linda perceived what the formation was.
Eagles! Great, huge, ominous birds, traveling through the air with the speed of machines. Involuntarily, she reached for her gun.
"No use!" shouted Nancy, in terror. "Too many of them!"
Realizing the truth of Nancy's words, Linda did the only thing possible: swiftly, almost recklessly, she landed on the ground, expecting to be dashed upward again, or the plane turned over, pinning her and her companion beneath. But miraculously, nothing disastrous happened; the autogiro had come down vertically and stopped. That, then, was the wonder of this marvelous little machine! Had it been any other kind of plane, the girls would surely have been injured – and possibly killed!
They had landed in a small clearing between the trees. Shutting off her engine, Linda turned, gasping, to her friend.
"Would you ever believe, a thing like that if you read it?" she demanded.
"The landing – or the birds?" inquired Nancy, still breathless with excitement.
"I really meant the birds, for I knew that the autogiro was wonderful. I've seen them land and take off before, though of course I never tried anything like this."
"Well, I did read about big birds bothering pilots one time – in a newspaper, I guess. But I didn't think much about it."
They waited quietly for a while until they felt calm again. The birds had flown on immediately; there was nothing to prevent their taking up their journey again. Ordinarily Linda would have been apprehensive of a take-off in so small a space, but after her landing, she felt confident. The autogiro rose instantly, almost vertically, and they were on their course again.
"I'm going to get Dad to buy me an autogiro!" Nancy announced. "This has decided me."
"Me too!" agreed Linda.
"But you'll have a big Bellanca!" Nancy said. "Lou told me you put in the order."
"I may not have, after we try that ocean trip," returned the other girl. "We may be ship-wrecked and picked up by some boat – "
"So long as you are picked up, it'll be O.K… Oh, Linda, I think you are just marvelous!"
"Thanks, Nance. But I don't deserve the praise yet. Wait till I earn it."
Only a short distance stretched between them and Birmingham now, and Linda covered it in record time. Safe and sound she brought the autogiro down on the airport before four o'clock in the afternoon. Turning it over to the authorities, and giving her instructions about the other plane, which was to be ready the following day, Linda summoned a taxi and asked to be driven to the best hotel.
The rest of the day was their own, and the girls enjoyed it thoroughly, eating a luxurious dinner, and attending a show afterward. On their way home from the theater, Nancy asked more questions about Linda's proposed trans-Atlantic flight, and the latter told her everything – even to the story of the enemy whom she and Louise most feared: Bess Hulbert.
"But I don't see why you should worry about her," said Nancy. "She wouldn't dare come back to the United States again."
"I'm not so sure of that. Now that some time has passed, she'll think everyone's forgotten about her crimes."
"I hope not," replied Nancy, optimistically.
Little did the girls think, as they discussed Bess Hulbert, that evening, that they would run into her the following day, just as Linda was fearing might happen at some time or another.
It all happened suddenly, at the field of the airplane construction company in Nashville, Tennessee, where Linda had delivered the second plane without any mishap.
She had just received the president's signature on the delivery card, and was about to summon a taxi, when the man made a generous suggestion.
"If you girls can wait till tomorrow," he told them, "I can have you taken north by plane. We are making a delivery at Springfield, Illinois, and St. Louis isn't much out of the way."
"That will be fine!" exclaimed Linda, gratefully. "Because we both have grown to hate trains. They crawl so."
"Worms instead of birds," remarked Nancy, thinking of the dangerous mistake they had made the previous day.
"Besides," added Linda, "we will get there so much more quickly, even though we had thought something of taking a sleeper."
"O.K. Then I will introduce you to your pilot, and you can make your arrangements." He turned to a mechanic who was standing by. "Joe, get Miss Mason to come over here." Then, to the girls he explained, "Your pilot happens to be a young lady – one of our saleswomen."
Nancy and Linda both smiled rather proudly. It was nice to find that women were everywhere taking their places in aviation.
The false name was misleading; Linda had not a suspicion that "Miss Mason" was Bess Hulbert, although she remembered later that the girl had masqueraded in Plattsburg as "Anna Smith." But the moment the girl came toward them, Linda recognized her, and had the satisfaction at least of seeing her turn deathly pale.
Noticing Linda's gasp of astonishment, Nancy turned to her questioningly.
"It's Bess Hulbert!" she whispered, hoarsely.
"What's that?" demanded the president of the corporation.
"Nothing," answered Linda. "Only – Mr. Harris – we – we've changed our minds about flying back to St. Louis. We'll go by train."
"But why?" demanded the man, as Miss Hulbert came nearer. "Pardon me, but is it something personal? You know Miss Mason, perhaps?"
"To Miss Carlton's sorrow!" was Nancy's quick and bitter retort. "I think you had better hear all about the kind of woman you have in your employ!"
"No! No!" protested Bess Hulbert, who was now near enough to hear the slur, and who appeared desperately frightened. "Give me a chance to talk to Miss Carlton alone. I don't know this other person!"
At a loss to know what to say, the man looked helplessly at Linda.
"No. Perhaps we had better go," decided Linda.
"Please give me a chance!" begged Bess. "Ten minutes – alone." She looked imploringly at Mr. Harris, who nodded immediately, and started towards the building.
Bess reached for Linda's arm, and clung to it desperately, as a beggar might appeal for alms.
"I know what you think of me," she said. "But I'm so sorry, so frightfully sorry! Won't you have mercy on me – let bygones be bygones, if I give you my word of honor I've reformed?"
Receiving no reply, she continued excitedly: "It's true that I tried to snatch your father's business, but oh, I was desperate! If you could know what it is to be poor – to have an ambition to fly, and not be able to fulfill it! Oh, Miss Carlton, you ought to understand what the longing is! Suppose you didn't have a father to buy you a plane! Remember, I had to fly an old Jenny from the Army, while you piloted an Arrow Sport!"
"But you wrecked my Arrow," Linda reminded her.
"Yes. In a fit of jealousy. I'm sorry. Oh, please believe that I am truly sorry now! And if you let me go ahead without showing me up, and if I can win that prize for the flight to Paris, I'll buy you a new plane. Honest I will! I'll give you a written promise!"
"But why should I make it possible for you to win the prize, when Miss Haydock and I want to win it ourselves?" countered Linda.
"To be sporting! Oh, won't you please! You see, I now owe Kitty Clavering ten thousand dollars, and I can never repay her unless I win. I've got a job here, but it would take me years to save that much… If you throw me into prison, I'll never get out of debt. It will ruin my life."
"Didn't you try to ruin Linda's life?" put in Nancy.
"No – only the plane. I didn't mean to kill you, Miss Carlton! I'm not so bad as that! I'd never do anything like that again – I've learned my lesson, living these months in a constant dread of arrest and disgrace… Maybe you haven't heard that my brother is engaged to Kitty Clavering," she added, changing the subject. "But he could never marry her if I brought a terrible disgrace on the family!"
In the face of these arguments and entreaties, Linda was silent. Never in her life had she been confronted with such a momentous decision.
"When do you plan to fly across the ocean?" she asked, stalling for time.
"April. Early in the month, I hope."
"With another girl?"
"No. Alone."
"No mechanic – no navigator with you?"
"No. I'm relying a lot on luck."
"That's a bad idea. You better get somebody to help you."
Bess Hulbert's eyes lighted up with joy.
"You are going to let me go?" she cried, snatching Linda's hand in relief. "Oh, you angel!"
"I'm not sure yet," replied Linda. "I'll have to talk it over with Lou – Miss Haydock. After all, she has a right to some say in the matter… But meanwhile, my friend and I do not care to go by plane with you to St. Louis."
"You won't trust me! Even now, when you have my confession – when I tell you I've reformed?"
"Sorry," replied Linda, coldly. "But a burnt child dreads the fire. So I don't feel like risking it… Now, if we decide to let you off, it is just as you said, because of the sport of the thing – to give you a chance to compete for the big honor. But Miss Haydock and I could never really trust you again."
Bess Hulbert sighed; she was slowly but surely learning that dishonesty did not pay.
"You are going to tell Mr. Harris?" she asked.
"No, I guess not," replied Linda. "That wouldn't do us any good… We want to get to a hotel now, and look up our trains, and change our clothing. Can you get us a taxi?"
"Certainly," replied Bess, meekly. How different she was from the haughty girl they had met at the Flying Club in the fall! "And when shall I hear definitely from you?"
"If we decide to take any steps against you, we'll inform the officials this week, and you'll hear from them. But I wouldn't run away this time – you have an even chance of getting free, if you stick to the job. And, if you hear nothing before the tenth of March, say, you can go ahead with your plans."
"Thank you! Thank you!" cried the older girl, rushing off to do as she was told.
The taxi appeared in a few minutes, and when Nancy and Linda were finally alone, the former regarded her friend with wonder and admiration.
"You're actually going to let her go, aren't you, Linda!" she asked.
"What do you think?" asked the other.
Nancy shrugged her shoulders. "You're doing the big thing, of course, but I don't believe in your place I could do it. I'd want my revenge… Anyhow, I don't really think she'll win that prize."
"What makes you say that?"
"Not enough preparation. Not a good enough plane – she's spending less than ten thousand dollars, apparently… And, well, it just wouldn't be right."
Linda laughed, but she knew that Nancy was absolutely loyal to her.
Chapter XVIII
Rivals
When Linda got back to the boarding-house on Sunday afternoon, she dashed eagerly up to her room to tell the news to Louise. But her chum was not there.
"Where is Lou?" she called to the landlady.
"Out with Mr. Mackay," replied the woman, smiling.
There was nothing to do but wait, so Linda tried to busy herself with her studies. But for once she could not get her mind off the subject of Bess Hulbert, and concentrate.
About five o'clock Louise finally arrived. She looked radiantly happy.
"I've got something thrilling to tell you, Linda!" she exclaimed, giving the other girl a hug.
"And I have something not so thrilling to tell you!" returned Linda.
"Well, out with it! Let's get the bad news over first!" Louise took off her hat and coat and settled down in the arm-chair beside the window. Her eyes took on a dreamy expression.
"I met Bess Hulbert!" Linda announced, expecting Louise to jump into the air at the startling fact. But she did no such thing; she took the information with the utmost calm.
"Well, of all things," she remarked. "Where?"
"At an airplane company in Nashville, Tennessee. And Lou, she confessed everything."
"Might as well," muttered her room-mate. "We knew it all anyway."
"She put up a touching plea for forgiveness. Why, she even promised to pay me for the Pursuit, if I didn't turn her over to the authorities."
"And what did you say?"
"That I couldn't decide, without talking to you… Now, what do you think?"
"I think that she ought to be put into prison, of course!" replied Louise. "But it's up to you, Linda. I'll be too busy for the next few months to be bothered prosecuting criminals… You see, I'm engaged to Ted!"
"Engaged!" Though Linda had expected this to happen, she had no idea it would come so soon. Somehow, she thought Louise would not settle anything definitely until after the flight to Paris.
"Yes, that's my thrilling news! Aren't you pleased, Linda?"
"Of course I am, darling! I think it's wonderful… I was just being selfish – wondering whether it would interfere with our flight."
"No indeed it won't! I told Ted I wouldn't consider giving that up. We're not going to be married until June."
"Then I'll have you three months more!" cried Linda, joyfully. "Whoopee! Long enough to finish our course here. After that we probably should have been separated anyway, because you know I expect to take a job."
"You have to be my maid-of-honor," Louise informed her. "That will be a job for you."
"The kind of job Aunt Emily would approve of. I'll be tickled to death, of course, Lou."
"I'm going home at Easter," continued the other girl, "and Ted is coming too. We'll make all our plans then. You expect to go home for the holidays too, don't you? We have a week."
"I thought something of going over to New Castle, to see how my Bellanca is coming along. Then I'd go back to Spring City for the rest of the time." She did not add that she had been hoping Louise would go with her; such a suggestion was out of the question now.
"Suppose Bess Hulbert beats us, and our trip has to be canceled," remarked Louise. "Aren't you taking an awful chance letting her off?"
"Yes, but I'd hate myself if I prosecuted her just because I was afraid of her as a rival. In fact, that's the very reason I'm inclined to let her off – because of the sporting side of the thing. If she weren't planning to compete for this prize, I'm sure I'd have her held for smuggling, anyway, for it would be a difficult matter to prove that she did something to injure my plane."
"You're a queer girl, Linda," observed her companion. "You can be so much more impersonal than most of our sex. I admire you for it."
Study was out of the question for that evening, because Louise just had to talk, and this time Linda humored her, listening in amusement to the girl's praises of Ted Mackay, and her rosy dreams of the future.
In the days that followed Louise tried to settle down to work, but she discovered it to be impossible. Her mind was completely absorbed with her trousseau, her wedding, the little house she and Ted meant to buy and furnish. The only thing about flying that interested her at all was the trans-Atlantic trip; for this she had not lost her enthusiasm.
April arrived, bringing the Easter vacation, for the holiday fell late that year. The girls parted, to meet again at Spring City a day or two later.
Linda considered herself exceptionally fortunate to make the trip to New Castle by air. One of the students who owned a plane happened to be flying east for the week's vacation, and offered to take her with him. The weather was delightful, and her visit wholly satisfactory. The Bellanca would be ready for her by the first week of May.
She boarded a train back to Spring City, and arrived only a day after Louise. But that one day had been sufficient to spread the news of the latter's engagement all over the little town, and in spite of the fact that social affairs had slowed down for Lent, she was being entertained by everyone.
Linda went directly home and found her Aunt Emily anxiously waiting for her.
"There's a tea at the Flying Club, dear," Miss Carlton told her, almost before she had removed her hat and coat. "And Kitty has phoned twice for you."
"Then I'll have to go right away, I suppose," laughed Linda. "You do love to get me into society, don't you, Aunt Emily?"
"Somebody has to keep up that end of it," replied the older woman. "But first, before you go, I want to talk to you… About that flight to Paris."
Linda stood perfectly still, unable to keep from trembling. In these three months that had passed since Christmas, neither had ever mentioned the subject, although the girl knew that her father had performed his mission as he promised her on New Year's day. Now, at this late date, was her aunt going to put forth objections? She waited tensely for the latter to continue.
"I gave your father my word that I wouldn't do anything to keep you from going," said Miss Carlton, "and you must admit that I have kept to it. But circumstances have changed. I think I have a right, and a duty, to speak now."
"Why – now?" stammered Linda. "What has changed?" She was unable to follow her aunt's reasoning.
"Because of Louise's engagement – of course. It wouldn't be fair to Ted Mackay for her to take a risk like that. You must think of him, Linda."
Linda fingered her coat nervously, wondering whether she was being selfish.
"But Ted is willing for Lou to go," she objected. "And she's crazy about it herself."
"Because she cares so much for you, my dear – not because she cares for the flight itself. If you weren't going, you know she'd never think of attempting it alone."
Linda smiled; how could she tell her aunt, without appearing conceited, that Louise was not capable of such a feat?
"Lou hasn't had enough experience, Aunt Emily," she finally said.
"But she has been at school as long as you have. And she accompanied you on most of your flights last summer… No, dear – she doesn't care the way you do. And I don't want you to be selfish."
"All right, Aunt Emily, I'll talk it over with her," agreed Linda, as she went up to her bedroom to change into an afternoon dress for the tea.
All her joyousness at seeing the almost-completed Bellanca had suddenly vanished at her aunt's warning; she felt blue again, just as she had that day before Christmas when she offered to turn her money over to her father. In a way things were worse now, for she could not go to her chum for sympathy, as on the previous occasion. That would be taking an unfair advantage, literally forcing Louise to accompany her.
She dressed quickly and drove to the Flying Club in her sports roadster, anxious to get away from her own unhappy thoughts.
Kitty Clavering, in a flowered chiffon, and sporting a lovely diamond on her left hand, came to greet her immediately, and in the congratulations and the gayety that followed, Linda forgot her troubles for the time being.
Louise, who was the center of attraction, was completely surrounded by her friends, and it was some minutes before Linda had a chance to speak to her.
"Have you a date for tonight, Lou?" she asked. "Has Ted come yet?"
"No – to both questions," replied Louise. "I promised the family I'd stay home, for some aunts and cousins are coming. Now that I've caught my man, they want to look me over," she added flippantly. "And Ted won't be here till tomorrow. Why? What's on?"
"I – I'd like to have a talk with you about our flight," said Linda. "I was going to ask you to come over to our house and stay all night."
"That's O.K. with me. Only you'll have to come to our house instead."
The conversation was interrupted by Ralph Clavering, who had spied Linda for the first time. He took her hand impulsively, and held it so long that she was forced to pull it away.
"Where have you been?" he demanded, irritably. "I've been home from college for four days, just waiting for you!"
"I stopped at New Castle to see my Bellanca," Linda explained, smiling at his impatience. In spite of everything she did and said to the contrary, he always acted as if he owned her.
"Linda! You're not really counting on that ocean trip?" he demanded, making no effort to hide his disapproval.
(Why, oh why, she wondered, is everybody against me?)
"I am, though," she answered.
"Louise won't go with you now, will she?"
"She fully expected to, when I said good-by to her at school. Of course her family may have changed their minds about letting her."
"I shouldn't think Mackay would permit such a thing!" asserted Ralph, masterfully.
"Pull yourself together, Ralph!" teased Linda. "This isn't Queen Victoria's time – when men say what women can or can't do!"
"Well, if she were my wife – or my fiancée – "
"Which she isn't! Come on, Ralph, let's dance. So you'll get over your grouch."
"It isn't a grouch. It's genuine worry… Listen, Linda: if you're bound to fly to Paris, take me along with you, instead of Louise. Then at least we could die together."
"Don't be so morbid!" cried Linda. "Nobody's going to die. Besides, I couldn't take you. The whole point of the thing would be lost. The prize goes to the _girl_ or _girls_ who fly without a man's help."
"You could explain that I wasn't a help, only a hindrance," he suggested. "That I don't know half so much about piloting a plane as you do, and nothing at all about navigating it."
"No good, Ralph. Come on, let's dance, as I suggested before. And talk about something else. How you're going to entertain me tomorrow night, for instance."
The young man's mood changed instantly, and the rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. Indeed, it was with difficulty that Linda broke away at six o'clock, in order to have time to dash home to tell her aunt of her plans, and to put some clothing into her over-night bag.
Louise's family were just ready to sit down to dinner when Linda arrived, and as the former had explained, there was an assortment of relatives. But both girls went out of their way to be agreeable, and when they went up to Louise's room a little after ten, they left only the most pleasant impressions.
"Now tell me about the Bellanca," urged Louise, thinking this was Linda's reason for wanting to see her alone.
"Oh, it's marvelous, of course. More wonderful than its pictures." But her tone lacked enthusiasm.
"What's the matter, Linda?" inquired the other girl. "What has gone wrong?"
"Nothing… Only, Aunt Emily thinks I'm selfish to keep you to your promise. She wants me to urge you to give up the flight."
"Don't you just love it the way other people always want to run your life?" remarked Louise. "With all due respect to your Aunt Emily, you can tell her from me, that I'm going! That's all there is to it. If I were married, it would be different. But I'm not!"
"Oh, Lou, you really want to?" cried Linda, hugging her joyfully. "I'm not being selfish – and dragging you with me?"
"Absolutely not. We've set the date, and we're going!"
So Linda Carlton went happily to sleep that night, believing that everything was settled. Little did she think that on the following day two momentous events were to take place that would entirely disrupt her plans.
It all happened at the breakfast table, with the abruptness of an electric storm. Mr. Haydock spied the news first, in the paper which lay at his place. His mouth fell open and he stared at the sheet in dismay.
"'Mabel and Joyce Lightcap take off in tri-motored Ford for Paris!'" he read aloud to Linda and Louise.
"What?" gasped his daughter, jumping up from her chair and staring at the headlines over his shoulder.
"'In quest of the twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize offered by Mrs. Rodman Hallowell to the first girls who successfully fly from New York to Paris without a man,'" he continued.
Linda sat listening, speechless.
Louise went on reading where her father had stopped.
"'The Misses Lightcap, who are sisters, twenty-two and twenty-three years of age, had kept their plans secret until last night, when they arrived at Roosevelt Field in the tri-motored plane. They left at dawn this morning. Weather reports are favorable, and the radio will announce their progress throughout the course of the day and night…'"
Louise dropped back into her chair, not daring to show Linda any sympathy, lest her chum burst out crying. She was probably the only person who realized what that flight meant to Linda Carlton.
"Of course they may not get there," observed Mr. Haydock, soothingly. "You girls may still get your chance."
"Perhaps it's all for the best," observed his wife, unable to