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Chapter V
Thanksgiving
In the six weeks that had passed since Linda and Louise left for the ground school, a great deal had happened at Spring City. Kitty and Ralph Clavering drove over to see Linda the afternoon that she arrived – the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, to tell her all the news.
"Are you a pilot yet, Kitty?" asked Linda, as soon as she had kissed the girl and shaken hands with her brother.
"No, not yet. So far only some of the boys have passed the exam – and Dot Crowley. Dot can do anything, you know. But I'm getting along fine."
"Lou has her private pilot's license," announced Linda proudly. "But do sit down and tell me all about the club."
"There's to be a dance there tomorrow night," replied Kitty, sinking into a chair. "That's the first thing I have to tell you."
"And before the phone has a chance to ring, I want you to promise to go with me," urged Ralph.
"Why, certainly," agreed Linda. Everything was delightful – and oh, it was so good to be home! "Thanks a lot, Ralph… But tell me, Kitty, is the club-house all done?"
"Yes. We have seventy-six members, and the most adorable club-house. Oh, nothing pretentious, like the Country Club, but we like it a lot. And we have one plane – a Gypsy Moth. Lieutenant Hulbert flies over twice a week to give the lessons."
"Did seventy-six people actually buy thousand-dollar bonds?" inquired Linda, incredulously. She couldn't believe there was all that wealth in Spring City, and the surrounding country.
"No. Only about twenty. We couldn't keep to that rule. The people who bought the bonds are on the Board of Directors. We let members in for their dues – a hundred dollars a year."
"And do I have to fork out another hundred?" asked Linda, wearily. She had been spending so much money already; she couldn't begin to live on the interest from her father's gift. Of course she expected to use the principal for her course, but she didn't want it to vanish for trifles.
"I'm afraid you'll have to," said Kitty.
"Well, I'll think it over," replied Linda, slowly. It was amazing, in the few weeks that she had had charge of her own money, what a business woman she had become. "I may not join this year. My expenses are pretty heavy."
"Why, Linda!" Kitty laid her hand affectionately upon her friend's arm. "Forgive me if I seem to pry – but – but – your father isn't having money troubles, is he!"
"Oh, no. It's only that I am running my own expenses now, and I don't want to waste money on things that won't do me any good. While I'm away from home it seems sort of foolish to belong to that club, when I have my own Arrow to fly. Especially now that you have enough members, and really don't need me… I'd rather sell my bond."
"I don't know whether you could sell it now," said Kitty. "Though of course I'll ask Bess – Bess Hulbert, our treasurer, you remember – when she flies back this afternoon. She has our Moth up at Lake Michigan now."
Linda raised her eyebrows. So this was the way the club was run – for Miss Hulbert's convenience!
"Doesn't she have her own plane any more?" she demanded.
"No. She smashed it. It wasn't any good anyhow. And she might as well use the Moth, because the club members only need it two days a week."
That arrangement didn't seem fair to Linda, for the licensed pilots – Dot and Joe and Harry and Ralph – could fly now whenever they wanted.
Noticing that Linda was not at all pleased with the way things were going, Ralph immediately made her an offer.
"I'll be glad to buy your bond, Linda," he said, "if nobody else wants it. No reason why you should hang on to it if it's no use to you."
"That's awfully kind, Ralph. I'll think it over, and let you know tomorrow night at the dance."
At this moment Miss Carlton entered, smiling genially because Linda was home with her again, and because these nice, socially prominent young people were calling upon her niece immediately. She greeted Ralph and Kitty cordially, and rang the bell for tea.
Nothing more was said of the club during the call, but as soon as the guests had left, Miss Carlton questioned her niece about their earlier conversation.
"I couldn't help hearing you, dear, and I couldn't imagine what made you suggest a thing like dropping out of that flying club. Why, it's the only thing about flying that I ever heartily approved of."
"I don't like the way the whole thing is run, Aunt Emily. It's too much Hulbert. Did you know, by the way, that Louise refused to buy a bond?"
"No, I didn't. But maybe her father didn't have the money at the time."
"It wasn't that. She never even asked him! She said it was all too unbusinesslike – bossed just like politics! She hates Bess Hulbert."
"Louise always did have strong likes and dislikes… Of course, I don't know anything about the Hulberts, but I do know the Claverings, and anybody that they like must be all right. Besides, your money is safe with Mr. Clavering in back of the club. And you don't need it now for anything."
Linda smiled to herself; she still had said nothing to her aunt of her dream of flying across the Atlantic. The older woman could not possibly know how important every dollar would be to her next spring.
But Bess Hulbert was not so unsuspecting. She had returned from her trip while Kitty and Ralph were at Carlton's, and waited in the girl's bedroom for the former to return. While Kitty dressed for dinner, she told her about her call.
The very moment that Bess heard that Linda wanted to sell her bond, she jumped to the conclusion that the other girl was determined to try for that twenty-five thousand dollar prize. Nor was the idea at all pleasant to her. Much as she might belittle Linda's aviation ability in public, she was secretly afraid of her as a rival. The very fact that she took almost a year of her life to study at a ground school, that she meant to qualify as a commercial – perhaps even a transport – pilot, neither of which Bess was, showed how seriously Linda must be going into aviation.
No, Bess did not doubt that Linda was saving her money for this purpose, if she needed that thousand dollars. Fortunate girl, to be able to raise the money thus easily! At the moment, Bess saw no way for her to buy a plane herself, and compete. The club refused to finance her – unless Mr. Clavering would personally back her up. But, worse the luck, that gentleman didn't seem to care for her at all! Probably he was afraid Kitty would marry her brother; in Mr. Clavering's eyes, no poor young man was worthy of the beautiful heiress.
While these thoughts raced through her mind, she had been listening with only half attention to Kitty's prattle about the dance. Suddenly she interrupted.
"I think I'd better go back to the hotel, Kit," she said. "I couldn't stay to dinner in this costume."
"You could wear one of my dresses," suggested her hostess.
Bess laughed. "Too small, I'm afraid. It's awfully sweet of you to ask me to stay, but I really need some rest – after that trip."
"But Bess!" protested Kitty. "Some of the crowd are coming over tonight – "
"I'll see them tomorrow, at the dance – maybe. Tell them I thank them for the Moth, and that I filled her with gas, and paid for her inspection." She started towards the door.
"Will you come here and go to the dance with us?"
"Maybe… I'll let you know tomorrow… So long, dear!"
She closed the door, and ran down the steps, knowing that she had not the slightest intention of going to that dance. If Ralph Clavering had asked her, instead of Kitty, that would have been a different matter. But he had invited Linda Carlton! It seemed as if that snip of a girl was going to take everything she, Bess Hulbert, wanted. It was ridiculous! She hated Linda. She even went so far as to wonder whether that were her real name. It would be just like a romantic kid like that to persuade her father to change her Christian name in imitation of a hero like Lindbergh.
Bess hurried back to her hotel, conscious now of the fact that she must do some serious thinking, and that she must do it quickly. She just had to raise some money – or rather, a lot of money! She could never save enough from any foolish little job she might take now. No, she would have to make some, as business men do! If she didn't hurry, Linda Carlton would soon have captured that prize.
"Linda Carlton!" she kept repeating, scornfully. "Pampered daughter of a rich man! It isn't fair! All she has to do is ask her 'Daddy' for thousands of dollars, and he comes across!
"Why haven't I a 'Daddy' like that?" Her eyes narrowed with bitterness. "Well, I suppose I can't help that, but, by heck, I'll be the 'Daddy' myself! Nothing to prevent my going into business too!"
A smile crept over her face, as she saw what looked like a solution to her problem, and she settled down into her chair in her hotel bedroom to work over maps and plans.
Meanwhile Linda entertained no such deep or unpleasant thoughts. It was so nice to be home, that she made up her mind that she wasn't going to worry about a single thing while she was there. Her aunt had bought her some charming new dresses, for the game, for the Thanksgiving dance, for a luncheon Dot Crowley was giving in her honor on Saturday. The whole holiday promised to be so enjoyable, so relaxing after the hard days at school, where she had to concentrate every second upon what she was doing, that she just reveled in the careless freedom of the coming four days. She had learned the secret that many grown people have yet to discover; that good times are sweeter after hard work, just as a delicious dinner tastes far better to the athlete than to the afternoon bridge player.
To add to it all, Mr. Carlton arrived from New York on Thanksgiving day, in plenty of time for dinner. Linda could hardly contain her joy.
"Daddy, are you as happy in your new work as I am in mine?" she asked him, when they were seated at the table, and he was carving the turkey.
"Nobody could be as happy as you are, Linda!" he replied, smiling at his daughter's radiant face. "But I like mine. It's something entirely new to me – and rather fascinating. Besides, it's going well; the stores have practically bought out my supply, and we have to send our agent to Canada for more, in order to fill our Christmas orders."
After dinner he opened his suit-case and took out a lovely bureau-scarf, different from anything Linda had ever seen, so fine that it seemed as if a silkworm, rather than a human being, must have made it. This he presented to Linda, at the same time giving his sister a tea-table cloth of the same exquisite work.
"Oh, I adore it!" cried Linda, delightedly, thinking of her little room in St. Louis, and how the scarf would add to its daintiness. "How the girls will envy me!"
"Will you start a trousseau with it?" asked her aunt, hopefully.
"No, Aunt Emily. I may never get married, and I want to enjoy it now. Things like this help when you're away from home."
Her father pinched her ear, teasingly.
"And why not get married?" he inquired.
"The same old reason: I'm too busy."
He laughed. "And to think," he remarked, "how worried I was last summer about that Mackay boy!"
"Ted's all right," was Linda's comment. "But I never did want to marry him – only to have him teach me to fly! He never cared for me that way either – I just happened to be the first girl he had ever met who was interested seriously in aviation… No, if he cares for anybody, it's Lou."
"Louise!" repeated Miss Carlton, in amazement. Yet she was relieved; she liked red-headed Ted, but he was not socially prominent, and she longed to have Linda make what the world terms "a good match."
"Yes. Oh, nothing is settled, or anything. But whenever Ted flies over to see us, he brings a boy friend for me."
"And you're going to the dance tonight with Ralph Clavering," was Miss Carlton's satisfied comment.
"Yes, but there's nothing to that, either, Aunt Emily!" protested Linda. And, changing the subject she began to tell her father all about the ground school, and talked of nothing else until it was time to dress for the dance.
Ralph came for Linda about nine o'clock, and, dressed in one of her pretty new gowns, she stepped into his machine.
"What a glorious night it is, Ralph!" she exclaimed, gazing up at the stars. "It's lovely enough to fly."
The young man frowned as he put his foot on the self-starter.
"I did think of it, Linda. Thought how pleased you'd be if I could take you for a ride in the Moth. But as usual – Bess Hulbert got it first!"
"You mean she has the Club's plane again?" demanded his companion. "She only brought it back yesterday."
"I know. It's positively sickening the way she grabs it. Yet her brother is a decent sort. If it weren't for him, I'd have raised a row before this."
"Where is she going now?"
"Canada, I believe. On the trail of some job. Well, I hope she gets it. Then maybe we won't see her for a while."
"Or the Moth either, I fear!" added Linda. Then noticing that Ralph was extremely irritated about the whole thing, she resolved to make him forget it and have a good time.
The dance was an enjoyable affair – all the more so because it lacked the formality of the Country Club functions. Only the members were present, and the crude roughness of the club-house, with its plastered walls, its long wooden window-seats, its huge fireplace, made everybody feel free and easy. Moreover Linda and Louise found themselves honored guests; everybody made a fuss over them, as if already they had proved themselves heroines. The men were insistent that neither of them dance more than once about the room without an interruption, and the other girls applauded their popularity without the slightest trace of envy. By the end of the evening even Ralph was supremely happy.
The functions that followed during the next three days – the luncheon of Dot's, the dinner-party of Louise's mother, the out-door picnic around a camp fire – were increasingly enjoyable, so that when Sunday came at last, Linda and Louise stepped into the Arrow with a feeling of regret that they must say good-by to all these good friends until Christmas.
Chapter VI
Bad News
The next four weeks at the school opened an entirely new chapter in Linda Carlton's life. Cold weather flying! Figuring on drops in temperature, high winds, sleet and snow! Using instruments as she had never used them before. Practicing landing her plane in small spaces, marked off by the instructor. Learning to repair simple injuries like cuts in the wings and installing new propellers. Never had anything been so fascinating; sometimes, late in the afternoons after regular school hours, she would stay on with Eckers, watching him inspect a motor, or going up in the air with him on a test flight, till she would forget all about supper. By the time the holidays had arrived, he told her he would be willing to have her do some testing herself.
Usually as she sat there, watching him intently, and now and then performing some simple service, she would be absolutely quiet. But sometimes she talked of the future, of her hope of securing a good job in aviation, of her dream of flying the Atlantic.
Home, social life – even family life – at Spring City seemed far away from her now. It was with a start that she suddenly realized it was December twentieth, the first day of vacation, when she and Louise were expected home. And they had not even bought a Christmas card!
Only once in those four weeks had she met with the slightest accident. It happened early in the month, one afternoon when, flying a school plane, a sudden shower, a veritable cloudburst, came up, and one of her cylinders cut out. She happened to be rather low – only a few hundred feet above the ground – so it was necessary for her to land. Cutting the throttle, she came down into a soft muddy swamp. The wheels touched the oozy ground, the plane ran a few feet and nosed over. But nothing serious happened; the propeller was badly cracked, and both Linda and the plane covered with mud, but she stepped out laughing. Minor accidents like that are all in the day's work!
As each succeeding day had passed, she was gaining confidence in her ability to cope with any sort of accident. And now, flying home to Spring City in the clear morning sunlight seemed only like so much play. She suggested that she turn the controls over to Louise, to add to the latter's flying hours.
They came down in the field behind Linda's house, but Louise refused to stop to go inside with her chum.
"I can run home across the back field by the time you'd have the car out of the garage," she said. "Glad I didn't bring a suit-case – I've nothing to carry but this hand-bag… So you go on in to your aunt. She's probably waiting breathlessly to see how many broken limbs you have!"
Linda laughed: it was true that Miss Carlton expected an injury every time anyone rode in an airplane. So she hurried into the house through the back door, and skipped into the library where she knew her Aunt Emily would be waiting.
But she came upon a surprise. Her father was standing beside the table, nervously fingering a magazine. Linda knew in a glance that something was wrong; he smiled at her in a queer manner as he kissed her, and Miss Carlton's expression was like a person's at a funeral. What were they both trying to hide?
She looked questioningly at her aunt.
"We can't keep anything from you, can we, Linda?" remarked the latter.
"Please tell me what is wrong, Aunt Emily!"
"Nothing so dreadful. Only – business. I'll let your father tell you while I go to look after the dinner… You're all right, dear? No accidents?"
"Just fine!" replied Linda, her eyes still sparkling from the fun of flying in that cold, clear weather.
Miss Carlton left the room, and her brother began almost immediately, without even sitting down.
"I guess I never should have tried going into a new business at my age," he remarked, almost bitterly. "It looked like a good thing, though – a novel thing. But conditions arose that I could never have foreseen. I'm – I'm going to be bankrupt, Linda, I'm afraid – unless something happens in the next month."
"Bankrupt!" repeated his daughter, in amazement. "But Daddy, why?"
"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand, dear – or rather, it's no use burdening you with unnecessary worries. Your Aunt Emily is willing for me to sell this house, to raise some money. I'm only too thankful that you won't have to give up your school – that that's all paid for, and I put the money aside for you."
"But Daddy, you can have that back again – or most of it! So long as the course is paid for in advance, I'll have very few expenses till the end of the term. Only my board – I don't even need clothes."
She had spoken impulsively, but she knew as she said this, that it meant death to her hopes of flying the Atlantic. Yet she did not hesitate; her father's happiness was worth all the prizes and fame in the world.
"And how would you live, after you finish at the school?" he asked. "It's awfully generous of you, dear, but I don't see how I could take it."
"I'm going to get a job – flying. I intended to, anyhow, once I have a commercial pilot's license. Oh, Daddy, please!"
"Well, maybe I will, if I can't see my way clear any other way. But of course it will be only a loan. That is, if the business can be saved." He had forgotten her dream of flying the Atlantic, and she did not remind him.
"I wish you would tell me just what happened," she urged. "I'm sure I can understand.
"Of course I will," he agreed, realizing her genuine sympathy and interest. "Though there is a mystery about it that even I can't understand.
"I sold all my first order to the stores in New York and Philadelphia and Chicago, as I told you at Thanksgiving, and I had a lot more orders. I even took on new salesmen for other cities, and I sent my agent up to Canada, to the convent, to rush me a new supply. I even wrote ahead to ask the Mother Superior to employ some poor women in the village, and teach them the needle-work – at my expense.
"Yesterday the blow came. My agent wired that all the work had been sold to someone else – someone who paid more than I did!"
"But how could they, Daddy?" demanded Linda. "Didn't they promise you?"
"Well, not exactly. You see I didn't know how well the thing would take, so I didn't have any actual contract. Besides, the Mother Superior probably never noticed the agent – or she may have been led to believe he was one of my men. Anyway, she sold everything. And here is the queer part of the story:
"The stores which bought from me became impatient when I didn't refill their orders, and bought from this other man at a lower price! He paid more for the lace-work, and sells it for less!"
It was certainly baffling; Linda tried hard to see it from every angle.
"Had you marked the goods too high, Daddy?" she asked. "I mean so high that this other man could afford to sell for less, and still make money?"
"No, I hadn't. I was taking a very small profit, because I was afraid to make the work too expensive, for fear it wouldn't sell. And there's a big tax to pay, besides, for bringing it into the United States from Canada. No, every way I figure it out, this man must be losing money."
Suddenly he sighed, and dropped into a chair, as if he were thoroughly beaten.
"So you see, dear, there's nothing I can do," he concluded. "It would be folly for me to go on, because even if the convent would sell to me again, I would have to pay this new high price – and lose more money. The best thing I can do is pay my debts – sublet my offices, if I can, for unfortunately I took a long term lease – and get out. And be thankful I haven't lost more!"
"But Daddy, aren't you going to even try to solve the mystery?" asked Linda, her eyes blazing with anger. "Somebody is just planning to kick you out, taking a loss for a few months, so as to get the business! It can't last. Why not take my money and go on – at a loss – for a while?"
"But I couldn't hold out as long as he could. He probably has a lot more capital than I have, and could afford to play a losing game for a long while, until he had wiped me out, and gotten hold of the trade for himself. He's probably begun already to build up a trade all over the country, while so far I've only handled some of eastern cities – as far as Chicago. No, Daughter, I'm afraid I've made a mistake – I'm not the sort of fellow for cut-throat competition, as they all practice in business today."
"Hold on for a little while longer, Daddy, and – investigate!" she urged.
"And use up all your money?"
"Yes. Why not?"
He placed his hand upon hers, and stroked it gently. Then he suddenly remembered her proposed flight over the ocean, and stopped:
"But Linda, isn't it your greatest hope to fly the Atlantic?" he asked.
She choked a little, but she answered resolutely.
"I think I'll give that up. There are other women flyers so much better and so much more experienced than I am, that they'll be sure to do it next spring."
He could not know how valiantly she was giving up her greatest aspiration.
"Well, if that's the case," he said, "perhaps I will borrow some of your money, and try to go on. But we will sell this house anyway, and take an apartment. Your Aunt Emily says it's too big for her now… But stop thinking about my troubles, dear, and go find out about your engagements for the holidays. There's a pile of mail on your desk waiting for you."
Linda dashed off, in the pretense of being interested in her mail, but in reality to get control of herself, to steel herself to the great sacrifice she had just made. She mustn't let her father see how terribly disappointed she was! She mustn't tell him how they had praised her work at the school, how she ranked far above most of the young men who were studying! She must get hold of Louise, and stop her from talking.
Oh, the pain of going back to school, and telling her instructor – Mr. Eckers, who was so much interested in her project that he kept it constantly in mind, the better to prepare her for every emergency that might arise when the time came for the momentous trip! The tears came to her eyes, but she fought them back. There was no good in sacrifice, if one had to be a martyr about it. No; she must pretend to be perfectly satisfied over the affair.
She lay on her bed, her head buried in her pillow, fighting for control of herself. The unopened invitations lay in a tumbled pile beside her.
But it suddenly dawned upon her that her aunt might come in at any moment. She mustn't let her guess anything!
Then, like a refuge in a storm, she again thought of Louise. She would go to her right away. With her chum there would be no need of acting. And though Louise would be almost as disappointed as Linda was herself, yet the sympathy would help.
So she hurried and changed from her flying suit into a street dress, and hiding her invitations under her pillow so that her aunt wouldn't wonder at her lack of interest, she skipped lightly down the stairs, and, calling good-by to her aunt, ran out to the garage for her little car.
She found her chum lying luxuriously on her bed, sipping tea and reading her mail. Impulsively Linda threw her arms about her, and started to cry. It was such a relief to weep!
"Darling!" cried Louise, in genuine alarm. "What is the matter? Is your father sick – or hurt?"
"No, no," sobbed Linda. "Oh, Lou – it's good to cry!"
"Good to cry!" repeated the other girl in utter amazement. Less than an hour ago she had left her in the best of spirits. Besides, it was a rare thing to see Linda in tears.
"Yes. I can't cry at home. Listen…"
And she told the story of her father's failure.
"So it means giving up our flight – for the prize!" she concluded.
"And let Bess Hulbert win!" added Louise, bitterly. "Not without a struggle, you can make sure of that!"
"But what can we do, Lou?"
"I don't know… Oh, if Dad only had a lot of money! But I'm sure everything he has is tied up in his business… Linda, why aren't we rich like Kitty Clavering?"
"Yes, why aren't we? I never cared much before. I always thought we had enough to be happy."
"So we did. Till something like this comes along… We might ask the Flying Club to back us."
Linda only smiled.
"If they can back anybody, it will be Miss Hulbert. But they can't, unless Mr. Clavering does it personally."
"Well, we'll just have to think up some plan. Maybe the school – "
"No, that's no hope, because every flyer there wants backing for something, some race, or some enterprise. No, that's out."
"Just the same, we're not giving up yet!" announced Louise, with determination. "Your father may pull out, or somebody may stop us on the street and take such a fancy to one of us – "
"Lou, you've been reading dime novels!" teased Linda. "There are too many good flyers today – good women flyers, too – for anybody to do that now."
"True. But there must be something – some way – "
"If we could only help Daddy in some way," mused Linda. "Find out who the man is who is trying to kill his business, and persuade him to take Daddy into partnership."
"Now you're on the track, Linda!" cried the other girl, enthusiastically. "We'll do that very thing! Hunt the mystery! Why, Linda, we've got over two weeks, and a plane and two cars! Who'd want more?"
"Wonderful! And we don't want to go to all these parties and dances anyhow, feeling the way we do!"
"Righto!"
The girls hugged each other in their ecstasy, and swayed back and forth happily. Then Louise grabbed her invitations, and began to make a list.
"We'll go over our mail and decline everything that comes after Christmas day," she said, in a business-like manner.
"And tomorrow morning we'll go to the stores and buy some of this stuff, and get the name of the dealer."
"Then fly to Montreal in his pursuit, if necessary!"
"In our 'Pursuit,'" corrected Linda.