Chapter VII
On the Trail
Although Linda and Louise were both greatly excited about their plan, they decided to keep it a secret. Once they disclosed it, they would probably meet with all sorts of opposition; Mr. Carlton would consider it foolish, his sister and Mrs. Haydock, dangerous.
So Linda went home and opened her invitations, accepting those that were scheduled for before Christmas, and took an active interest in her aunt's preparations for the great day. There was a small afternoon bridge at Sue's which she could attend, and a moonlight skating party which Dot had planned for December twenty-third, and of course she could go to the big Christmas Eve dance at the Country Club with Ralph Clavering.
Nor was her father's misfortune mentioned again after her first afternoon at home. Mr. Carlton had apparently made his decisions, and wanted his daughter and his sister to forget his troubles in their enjoyment of the holidays. Everything went on as it had at all other Christmas seasons; even the Arrow remained unmolested in its hangar, and Louise and Linda drove their cars.
It was on one of their shopping tours that they were able to take the first step in carrying out their enterprise. On the twenty-third of December they motored to Columbus and visited the city's largest department store.
Going straight to the linen counter, Louise asked to see a handkerchief like the one Linda was carrying, which she showed to the saleswoman.
"Seven dollars!" she repeated, as she examined it. "I'd have to put it in my trousseau at that rate. And then suppose I never got married!"
"You will," returned Linda, calmly. "But even if you don't, you're sure to be a bridesmaid some time. You could carry it then."
"Your bridesmaid?"
"If I ever need one. Or rather, my maid-of-honor."
The saleswoman coughed irritably; she wanted to hurry the purchase.
"It's the last one we have, Miss," she said. "So if you like it, you had better take it."
Her words recalled to Louise the purpose of their visit.
"The last one? They're hard to get, then?" she inquired.
"Yes. They are made by French women, I believe – in a convent."
Louise suppressed a smile by raising her eyebrows.
"Imported?"
"I think so. We get them through a New York firm."
"What is the name of the firm?" asked Linda, innocently.
"That I don't know. But if you care to wait, I'll ask the buyer."
"Yes," agreed Louise. "I'll take the handkerchief if you find out the name of the firm."
The saleswoman looked rather puzzled at their interest in the name, but she thought they wanted to make sure their purchase was not an imitation, and she hurried off to comply with the request. In a couple of minutes she returned with the information.
"The name is Carwein," she said, as she handed Louise her package. "J. W. Carwein & Co., Importers, New York City."
Linda carefully made note of the fact in her tiny shopping book.
"So our first stop is New York," remarked Louise, as they left the store and went to the garage where they had parked her roadster. "Of course we fly?"
"Naturally. We haven't time for any slower conveyance. Besides, we may need the Arrow for further investigation."
"O. K. But Linda, have you considered snow and sleet? Remember, so far we have had very little experience in cold weather."
"I realize all that. But I've been studying conditions about winter flying, you know, and I have a lot of theory. Of course theory isn't practice, as our friend Miss Hulbert would remind us."
"By the way, where is she? She just seems to have dropped out of existence."
"Probably she has the Club's Moth somewhere, visiting her friends!" replied Linda. "I can't say I miss her. Still, it is funny her brother isn't around. He seemed so devoted to Kitty."
"Maybe he asked Kitty to marry him, and she refused."
"I don't think so. Kitty was so crazy about him at Thanksgiving."
"Well, you never can tell. But that isn't going to worry me," said the other, laughing. "But here is an idea worth taxing your brain with, Linda!"
"Yes."
"I think somebody ought to know just what we're doing, and where we're going, so long as we don't want to give our parents the exact information. It ought to be somebody who could fly to our rescue, if necessary… I am thinking of Ted Mackay."
Linda nodded, approvingly. Ted was so capable, so dependable, and she knew he would risk his life if need be in an emergency to save them.
"You really think it's necessary?" she asked.
"Maybe not necessary, but prudent. Can't you map out our route to New York tonight, and send him a special-delivery letter? Then we can wire him from New York, if we decide to go on to Canada."
"Yes, that's a fine idea, Lou. Provided, of course, we get Aunt Emily's permission. Daddy leaves Christmas night, and after that I'm under her thumb."
"I'm going to spring it on my family after Christmas dinner," Louise informed her. "Everybody's in such a good humor then, that they probably won't refuse. Besides, we needn't mention Canada. Just say a flying trip."
"I guess I'll do the same thing. And by the way, Lou, let's wire Nancy Bancroft. You know she made us promise to stay with her whenever we flew to New York."
"An excellent plan!" approved her chum, for she liked the girl – a fellow student at the ground school. How much easier it would be to win the older people's permission if they could visit a friend!
Linda, however, did not wish to tell her father about the flight, for fear he might suspect what she was up to, and forbid her. Accordingly, she waited until almost eleven o'clock on Christmas night to ask her aunt's permission. They were together in the library, Linda idly gazing at the brightly lighted tree, Miss Carlton looking over the pile of cards on the table.
"Here's one from Beatrice Evanston," observed the latter. "Did you send her one, Linda?"
"I don't believe I did," replied the girl absently. She tapped her fingers nervously. It was difficult to begin.
"Aunt Emily!" she finally blurted out, "Lou and I are planning to go to New York tomorrow, if you are willing."
"Why of course," replied the other, to her niece's surprise. "But that's a long trip, and if it's shopping, you can do almost as well in Columbus. Or is it a house-party?"
"Neither. Though we are going to stay all night with a girl from school who lives there. But – we're flying."
"Flying? Oh, Linda, please don't! We're in for a snowstorm, I'm perfectly sure. I do wish you would put that plane away for the winter!"
"I can't do that, Aunt Emily. A real pilot has to fly in all kinds of weather. I really need the experience, and the Pursuit is in fine shape."
Suddenly her aunt put down the cards she was fingering and frowned.
"You can't, dear! You'd miss the Evanstons' ball, Beatrice's coming-out party. Why, it's the biggest thing in Spring City – after Kitty's!"
"But I had already declined that invitation," Linda stated coolly.
"You didn't? Oh, Linda, you wouldn't!"
"But I did. The day I got home. Louise and I both did. We wanted to reserve this whole week – between Christmas and New Year's – for ourselves, so we turned down everything."
Miss Carlton looked absolutely aghast.
"I never heard of anything so queer!" she exclaimed. "When you and Louise see each other every day in the year!"
"But this is different. This is a lark together… Oh, Auntie, please understand! We loved this last week with you and Daddy and our friends, but this is important to us now. You won't be hurt?"
She came over and sat on the arm of her aunt's chair, her eyes full of pleading.
"Oh, all right, dear," agreed the older woman with resignation. "I suppose it's about as useless to try to keep you out of the air as it would be to keep Lindbergh… I wish your mother hadn't named you Linda!"
Linda laughed, but she knew that she had won, and, even at this late hour she felt that she must call her chum to tell her the good news.
With sandwiches and hot coffee in their lunch box, and clothing enough to last them for a week, the girls took off the following morning. The air was crisp and cold, but it did not snow. Snug in their leather coats and helmets, they felt ready for any weather. The engine was running smoothly; it was a joy to fly, especially now that they could take turns at the controls.
In her pocket Linda carried a map which Ted Mackay had sent to her in reply to her letter, so that she found it easy to follow the course he had indicated. Without the slightest deviation, they arrived at their destination late that afternoon.
Leaving the plane to be housed and inspected, the girls made their way across New York to a hotel in the center of the city, where they sent wires to Ted and Miss Carlton and Mrs. Haydock, and changed into street clothing. Then they looked up the firm of Carwein in the telephone book.
"But what shall we say to him?" asked Linda.
"I don't know," admitted Louise.
Impulsively as they had rushed into this plan, they realized that they hadn't an idea how to proceed.
"Suppose he won't see us!" remarked Louise.
"He probably won't. If we tell the secretary it is private business, she'll think we want to sell him life insurance, or something."
In that strange hotel room, as they sat looking blankly at each other, they knew that they had not thought far enough. Suddenly they were both tired and hungry.
"Let's don't do a thing this afternoon," suggested Louise. "Just call up Nancy Bancroft, and say we'll be out there right away. She's expecting us for dinner, anyhow."
Linda looked immensely relieved.
They found the girl's home without any difficulty, and were welcomed like old friends. Nancy was one of a large family, and the house fairly buzzed with gayety. There were three other guests besides themselves at dinner, and afterwards a dozen more came in for games and for dancing. It was informal and charming; both Linda and Louise would have liked nothing better than to accept Mrs. Bancroft's invitation to stay until school opened. But that would have meant relinquishing their plan, and this they would not do.
In an interval between dances, Louise drew her chum into the sitting-room where Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft were quietly reading, and asked the former to give them some help on a mystery they were trying to solve.
"Do you happen to know a man named J. W. Carwein – an importer and wholesale dealer in fine linens?" she inquired.
"Why, yes, I know the firm," replied Mr. Bancroft. "I don't know him personally. Why?"
"Well, we want to make an investigation – on the quiet, if possible," explained Louise. "We'd like to find out where and how he's getting hold of a certain kind of very fine lace-work. He's practically smashed Linda's father's business, and we're trying to discover how he did it."
"From his reputation, I don't believe Carwein goes in for underhand dealing like that. If he is, he probably has had one put over on him. He sells only the most expensive things, and his firm has always had a good name. He'd probably tell you right out where he buys the goods."
"But how could we see him?" asked Linda. "Girls can't walk right into an office and demand to see the president!"
Mr. Bancroft smiled.
"It's been done," he said. "But I don't think it's necessary. I believe you can get the information you want from his secretary. It isn't likely he'd have anything to hide."
Just as simple as that! The girls could hardly believe it was possible, yet next morning, when they put the advice into effect, they found it good.
The secretary informed them that the goods were _not_ imported, that they were made right here in New York state. An agent by the name of Hofstatter had come into the firm's offices and sold them, assuring Mr. Carwein that they were made by a group of French women in the extreme northern part, near the town of Plattsburg. He said he was a traveling man, and that he would return in three months' time for more orders.
When Louise had repeated this conversation to Linda, they sat looking at each other in despair.
"I'm afraid our trip's been in vain," moaned Louise. "Somebody is imitating the work – somebody right here in New York. Of course they can afford to sell it cheaper than your father – with no tax to pay!"
Linda's eyes narrowed. She was not convinced.
"There's something fishy about the whole thing!" she said. "Because if this man Hofstatter didn't buy from the Convent, who did? They had nothing left to sell to Daddy!"
"Maybe he lied to Carwein!" exclaimed Louise. "Anybody can see that my handkerchief is exactly like yours."
"Yes! I think this man Hofstatter has smuggled the stuff into the country, avoiding the tax. That's what I believe!"
Louise jumped up energetically. "Now our job is to trap Hofstatter!"
"You mean to try to find him in Plattsburg?"
"I don't believe he's there – Or any lace-makers, either. We might stop and find out – and then go on to Montreal – to the Convent – and try to catch him, or find out something about him there."
"He probably won't be back for a good while, if he has just bought out the supply," remarked Linda, gloomily.
"True," admitted Louise. "But let's fly to Plattsburg anyhow, and investigate. We've gotten along O.K. here in New York. If we can only do as well there!"
"Well, it's only December twenty-seventh. We have plenty of time before school starts again."
"Now to send Ted a night-letter!" Louise reminded her chum. "New York to Plattsburg – Plattsburg to Montreal – Montreal to the Convent, with the time figured as closely as possible, and a telegram to him each night if we are safe."
"Righto! We'll stay all night at Plattsburg tonight. And we ought to be at the Convent tomorrow – December twenty-eighth."
Chapter VIII
Eavesdropping
When Linda and Louise came downstairs in their flying suits, ready to start for Plattsburg, they saw it was snowing. Mrs. Bancroft, entering the living-room with a thermos bottle of coffee, immediately assumed that they would stay with her for another day.
"You girls have never flown in a snowstorm, have you?" she asked.
"No, but we have to begin sometime, Mrs. Bancroft," replied Linda, cheerfully. She was anxious to be off; the flight promised to be a wonderful adventure.
"I don't see any reason why you should ever have to fly in bad weather," remarked the older woman. "There are so many beautiful days."
"But when we are commercial pilots, we'll have to," Linda explained. "So we might as well get used to it."
"You don't mean that you expect to take a regular paid position in aviation after you graduate, do you?" she demanded, in amazement.
"Yes. Rather!"
"You young girls certainly are marvelous! I suppose you'll put the idea into Nancy's head too… Well, if there's no use urging you to stay, I think you had better make your start. You don't want to risk flying after dark."
"Linda's even done that," boasted Louise.
Hearing the taxi, which was to take them to the airport, they bade a hasty farewell and departed.
"You're not afraid, are you, Linda?" inquired Louise, as they sped across New York City.
"Not a bit! Only I wish we had as good directions for finding Plattsburg as Ted gave us to follow coming here. It makes it so much easier."
"Maybe we'll find a letter or a wire at the airport," surmised Louise.
What they found, however, was far better than either. Standing beside the Arrow, which had been pushed out in readiness for the flight, was Ted Mackay himself, grinning as usual.
"How do you happen to be here, Ted?" cried Louise, as she jumped out of the taxi.
"I was as far east as Washington yesterday," the young man told her. "And I thought it would be nice to see you."
"Better than nice," laughed Linda. "Most helpful!"
"Come into the hangar where it's warm," advised Ted, "and we'll figure everything out."
As soon as they were within the shelter of the big building, he reached into his pocket and brought out a map.
"This is your best course," he said. "I've indicated a lot of landings, in case you need them – for it will be impossible to see the ground if this snow keeps on, so you must watch your mileage. Perhaps, though, you'll fly into clearer weather as you go north.
"Look out for Lake Champlain, then you'll know you're right. It's probably frozen over now."
He handed Linda the map, together with his Washington address, where he said he would be stationed for several days, and where he would expect their telegrams.
"One tonight from Plattsburg," he reminded them. "One tomorrow from Montreal – after you get back from that Convent. You better stay over a day at Montreal and have your plane inspected. Even at that, you ought to get back to Spring City the day before New Year's."
"And then we can go to the dance!" exclaimed Louise. "That will delight your Aunt Emily, Linda!"
But Linda was not thinking about social events. Her mind was entirely occupied with her plane and her flight.
"This map is marvelous, Ted," she said, after she had examined it closely. "And how about the Pursuit? Did you give her the once-over yourself? Of course I know the airport made the inspection."
"I did, too. She's absolutely O.K. You have nothing to worry about, except the weather. I want you to make me just one promise, Linda."
"Yes?"
"You won't fly any longer than you have to through sleet and hail. If ice forms on your wings and propeller, you'll have a tough job. Even the old, experienced pilots – Army men – hate it, and avoid it whenever they can. If it starts, make a landing as soon as possible… Yes, one other thing: When you get to Montreal, make careful inquiries about the location of this Convent – about the land around it, I mean. They can tell you all about it at the airport, and if there isn't a good big space, don't attempt to go there in the Pursuit. Take a taxi or a train."
"Well, I never had so many instructions in all my life!" laughed Linda. "But I'm going to take them all seriously, Ted, and follow them to the letter."
"We think you're an old peach, Ted!" put in Louise. "We'd never be able to get along without you!"
He smiled and held out his hand. "Good-by," he said. "And good luck!"
The girls taxied along the snow-covered ground and rose into the air, where the gentle, silent flakes of snow were falling all about them. The atmosphere gave them the queerest sensation; they seemed to float suspended in the sky. It was like fairyland, a region apart from the world, and they gazed at it in awe. Then Linda climbed higher, until they were well over the cloud line, and the sun shone and the sky was a deep blue.
On and on they flew, now and then shifting controls – first Linda and then Louise, taking turns sipping their coffee in their intervals of rest. Neither cared to eat. It would be more fun to be terribly hungry and order a grand hot dinner at Plattsburg.
The landing was difficult, for it was hard to see when they flew lower. But Ted's directions had been so accurate that they found the desired airport, and came down gracefully. Giving their instructions to the attendant, the girls left the plane and taxied to the largest hotel.
"Do you think we ought to change our clothing before we order dinner?" asked Louise. "I'm simply starved."
"So am I. No, don't let's bother. We're dry enough, when we take off these leather coats. Let's see what we can get to eat!"
Since it was neither lunch nor supper time, the clerk seemed somewhat doubtful, but the good-natured headwaiter, smiling at their aviation costumes, said he would see to it at once. He put them into a little alcove just off the lobby, behind some big plants, where they would not be stared at, and served them a delicious hot dinner, cooked especially for them.
How good it tasted! It seemed as if nothing had ever been so satisfying. They enjoyed every mouthful. Indeed, the warmth of the atmosphere and the food made them feel so deeply contented that they did not even talk. A radio was playing in the reception room, and the hum of voices in the lobby seemed distant and soothing.
But presently, as they were eating a lovely concoction that was called by a French name, and apparently was a sort of glorified fruit pudding, they heard two voices close to them, near and distinct, yet low. They could not see the speakers, but the voices were somehow familiar, and it was not long before they identified them.
"I think you ought to take that Moth back, Sis," insisted the man's voice. "That club may be wanting to use it."
"Calm yourself," returned the girl, haughtily. "You don't suppose any of those spoiled babies would fly in this kind of weather, do you? Besides, I have important business on!"
"Business?"
"Sure. I'm making money, Bob! Get that under your skin. I've got to have it – and I'm getting it."
"So you can fly over the ocean – after that prize?"
"Certainly."
There was silence for a moment, and Louise and Linda looked at each other breathlessly, hardly daring to move lest they reveal their presence. So this was where Miss Hulbert was – on business! They waited, hoping to hear more.
"Tell me more about your job," urged Lieutenant Hulbert, voicing Linda's and Louise's wish.
"Can't. It isn't a job… It's business – and it's a secret… Oh, not so easy, either. I may be killed, or put in prison. But I've got to have money! And you won't get it for me!"
"How can I, Bess?" demanded the young man, irritably. "I can't work any harder than I'm doing now."
"You know well enough what you could do!"
"You mean marry Kitty Clavering?"
"Now you're talking!"
"Well, I won't!"
"Don't you like her? She's not bad – really quite cute-looking, I think. Now if I asked you to propose to either of those two awful girls that think they know all about flying – you know the ones I mean, one of 'em named after Lindbergh – that would be something else again. But I should think any man could stand a harmless little thing like Kitty Clavering, for the sake of all those millions."
It was all Linda and Louise could do to keep from bursting out laughing at Miss Hulbert's description of themselves. But they restrained their desire, for the sake of the fun of hearing more.
"That's just it!" the unhappy young officer was protesting. "I'm in love with Kitty – too much so to ask her to marry me when I have nothing to offer her."
"You fool!" exclaimed his sister, in utmost contempt.
"Oh, I'll probably ask her, in the end. I won't be able to help myself. I've been staying away from her – sending that other fellow to give the lessons while I was away – but it doesn't help. I'm all the crazier about her… But get this, Sis – if I ask her, it will be to live on my pay, until I can make more!"
"Then," announced Miss Hulbert, "I have nothing more to say. But mark this, Bob, and remember it, if I come to any accident or disgrace: remember, it is you who shoved me into it!"
"That's utter rot!" he stormed, forgetting to keep his voice low. "Nobody has to get into disgrace, unless they do disgraceful things!"
"Sh!" warned Bess. "You needn't broadcast your feelings and opinions to the world. No use making anybody suspect me, before it's necessary… Well, so long! If you ever change your mind, you can wire me at the Flying Club, or at my New York apartment. I shan't be here after tonight."
In another minute they were gone, and Louise and Linda sat staring at each other in silence, too amazed even to speak.
"Poor boy!" were the first words which Linda finally uttered. "To have a sister like that!"
"I'm thinking more about 'poor us'," answered Louise. "From her conversation, I take it that Bess Hulbert is rapidly raising money. Money to fly the Atlantic!"
"So it sounds."
"I'd like to know how she's doing it," mused Louise.
"She said it might bring disgrace," replied Linda, thoughtfully… "Funny she should be here – in Plattsburg… Lou, do you suppose she could be 'Mr. Hofstatter' – or rather, Mr. Hofstatter's employer?"
"That's an idea, Linda!" cried Louise, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Only it seems too impossible. How could she have gotten word of your father's business?"
Linda was silent for a moment.
"Through me," she announced, finally. "Remember the day I showed my handkerchief to the girls, and explained all about where Daddy was getting them? Remember how interested she was – and even knew the name of the Convent?"
"That's right! I do! And she made some nasty remark about making money from nuns!"
"So she did. I was furious… And the very next day Ralph told me she had gone to Canada in the Moth, in search of a job!"
"It's true! It's true!" exclaimed Louise, jumping up from the table. "No use to hunt Hofstatter now – he's only a pawn in her game – if we are correct in our guess. We must go right to the Convent!"
"Tonight?" asked Linda, doubtfully.
"No, of course not. Tomorrow. And it's clearing up, Linda. Oh, we're the luckiest girls in the world!"