Chapter V
The First Lesson in Flying
Early the next morning, Linda wakened her father and hurried him through his breakfast. There wasn't a moment to be lost, she told him excitedly, like a child waiting to open her Christmas stocking. She had her car under the portico before he had finished his second cup of coffee.
"Don't drive so fast that you are killed on the way," cautioned her aunt. "Remember, dear, you have the rest of your life to fly that plane!"
But the present moment is the only time of importance to young people, and Linda scarcely took in what she was saying. Besides, the caution was unnecessary; unlike Dot Crowley and Maurice Stetson, she had too much respect for her car to mistreat it by careless driving. Linda loved her roadster as a cavalry general loves his horse.
"You want to do most of your learning on your own plane, don't you, daughter?" asked her father, as he sat down beside her. "I mean – you'd rather bring your instructor back with us, and fly it, wouldn't you?"
"Of course, if that is possible. But don't you suppose I have to go in a class with others, Daddy?"
"Probably not – for it is a small school. Besides, I can arrange for you to have private lessons. It will hurry things up for you."
"Oh, thank you, Daddy!.. But later, I want to go to a regular ground school, if you will let me." Her tone was as eager as any boy's, starting out on his life work. "And study airplane construction, and wireless – and – and – "
He smiled at her approvingly. What a girl!
"You are ambitious, my dear," he said, but there was pride in his words. "I don't see why not, though… Only, not all at once. As your Aunt Emily reminded you, you have the rest of your life."
"I can't bear to fool!" she exclaimed, impatiently. "Now that I have graduated, I want to get somewhere."
"You're bound to – unless you fly in circles," he remarked, lightly.
"I mean – oh, you know what I mean, Daddy! And you do understand, don't you?"
"Well, not exactly. You don't expect to be one of those independent girls who insist upon earning their own living, do you, dear?"
"I don't know…" Somehow, she couldn't explain. Nobody understood just what she wanted except Ted Mackay, and that was because he had the same sort of goal himself. Ted Mackay! The memory of her father's command hurt her. Must she really give up his friendship? But why? She wanted to ask her father, but he was looking off in the distance, apparently lost in his own thoughts.
So she drove the remainder of the way in silence, absorbed by her own dreams.
The field was outside of Spring City, covering an area of thirty acres, and surrounded by the white fence that was now being used so much by airports. Three large hangars, containing probably half a dozen planes, occupied one side of the field, and, near the entrance was a large building, evidently used as an office and school for the theoretical part of the courses.
"You have been here before, Linda?" asked her father, as the girl locked her car.
"Yes – a couple of times. I feel almost at home."
Scarcely were they inside the grounds, when Ted Mackay, looking huge and handsome in his flyer's suit, came out of the office building. He recognized Linda at once, and his blue eyes lighted up in a smile of welcome. Since he wore his helmet, his red hair was not visible, and Linda, glancing apprehensively at her father, knew that the latter had no idea who Ted was. But, nervous as she was over the meeting that was about to take place, she could not help feeling proud of Ted, and warmed by the frankness of his happy smile.
"Linda!" he cried. (She had called him Ted the second time she met him, so he reciprocated.) "I owe you an apology – and a confession!"
"Yes?" replied Linda, glancing fearfully at her father, though she knew that he had not yet realized who the young man was, or his expression would not have been so beneficent. "But first I want you to meet my father," she said. "Dad – this is Ted Mackay."
She was vexed at herself that she was actually stammering. Acting just like a child! Yet she couldn't forget how stern her father could be. She recalled the day that, as a child, she had sneaked off and played with Louise when her chum had whooping cough. Her father happened to come home – and announced that he would take care of her punishment. And what a punishment! For three whole weeks he made her stay in the house, without a single companion except her Aunt Emily! He said he'd teach her to obey.
But he wasn't storming, or even frowning now. Merely looking politely indifferent, perhaps a trifle superior. He made no motion to shake hands with Ted.
"How do you do?" he said. "Would you be kind enough to take us to the man in charge of this field?"
"Certainly, sir," replied Ted.
Immediately, as if he intended to give the young people no chance for personal conversation, Mr. Carlton began to ask about the courses that were offered.
Ted answered his questions, explaining that Miss Carlton would probably want to become a private pilot at first.
"You have to pass a physical examination," he said, "and get a permit from the Government. Then you must have at least eighteen hours of flying experience – ten with someone else with you, eight of solo flying. There is a written examination, too – all about the rules and regulations that make up the laws of the air. Of course there isn't a lot of traffic, like with the driving of cars," he explained, smilingly, "but you'd be surprised at how many rules there are!"
They had been crossing the field while he talked, and they stopped now at the main building. With a nod of dismissal that was curt, and yet not quite rude, for a muttered, "Thank you," accompanied it, Mr. Carlton left Ted, and took his daughter inside.
A middle-aged man, dressed in a khaki shirt and breeches, was seated at a desk. He looked up as they entered.
"My name is Carlton," began Linda's father, "and this is my daughter. I have bought her a plane, and I have come over to arrange about some lessons in flying."
Lieutenant Kingsberry, a former Army officer, asked them to be seated, and went over about the same explanation that Ted had given, saying that he would be delighted to register Linda, provided that she passed the physical examination.
"I suppose it is not so unusual now to have girls as students?" inquired Mr. Carlton.
"Not for many of the schools," replied the lieutenant. "But it just happens that we so far have not enrolled any of the fair sex. Your daughter will be the first. When does she wish to start?"
"As soon as possible," replied Mr. Carlton.
"Now!" Linda could not help adding.
"Well, I don't see why not," agreed the lieutenant, leniently. "At least Miss Carlton could take the physical examination, because one of our doctors is here now. And if she passes that, Mackay can give her the first lesson."
Linda's expression of delight suddenly died on her lips. For she glanced at her father, and saw the queer, drawn look about his mouth at the mention of Ted's name.
"This – Mackay – " he said slowly, "he isn't your only instructor?"
"He is our best."
"I prefer someone else. Can you arrange it?"
"Why – I suppose so. But if it is only personal reasons, I think you are making a mistake, Mr. Carlton. Mackay is our most reliable flyer – by far our best instructor. We don't expect to have him here more than a month or so. He's had a good offer from a big company."
Linda was glancing shyly, pleadingly, at her father, but he did not even see her.
"Unfortunately I found this young man's father to be most unreliable – untrustworthy – during the period that I employed him on my ranch. The fact is, we are not yet through with the trouble that he started. So you can understand why I should refuse to trust my daughter to his son. It is an unpleasant but true fact that children inherit their father's weaknesses. I should not have a comfortable minute, being miles away, and knowing that she was in his hands."
"Of coarse I will accept your decision, Mr. Carlton," replied Lieutenant Kingsberry, "and see that your wishes are carried out. I will summon the second ranking instructor – H. B. Taylor."
He called his office boy, a young man learning to fly, and working his way at the same time, and gave the necessary message. A couple of minutes later the man came in, dressed like Ted, but somehow he seemed insignificant to Linda – as if he were the one who was not reliable. She sighed.
Her father remained with the lieutenant and the instructor while she went into the doctor's office for her physical examination. She knew that her eyesight was good, but she felt a little nervous when the doctor examined her heart. It was fluttering so! Suppose all the excitement had been too much for her – and she did not pass! What good would her lovely plane be to her, if she were never allowed to pilot it herself?
But she need not have been alarmed, for she came through with flying colors. Then young Taylor took her over to one of the planes, and began to explain about the joystick, the rudder, the ailerons, and everything else he could think of, in words of one syllable.
Linda glanced at him, frowning. Did he think she was a baby. Or was it because she was a girl that his manner seemed so superior, so condescending? Why, he was wasting a lot of time! Ted would have had her up in the air by this time, perhaps letting her guide the plane herself.
"I am familiar with all these terms, Mr. Taylor," she interrupted. "You see I have been up twice – with Mr. Mackay. And I've read a couple of books."
The young man regarded her haughtily.
"It is necessary, Miss Carlton, that you go through the regular lessons, regardless of what you knew beforehand," he answered coldly. "And whatever Mr. Mackay may have shown you – as a friend – has nothing to do with these lessons, so long as I, not he, am your instructor."
"But I want to go up today!" she protested, eagerly.
"It is not our custom to take students up on the first day, Miss Carlton… Now, have you a notebook and pencil?"
"In my car." She tried to answer naturally, but she was keenly disappointed.
"Then will you please go and get them," he said, seating himself in the cockpit of the plane which he had been using to illustrate his statements.
Obediently, but half-heartedly, Linda started back for the road where her car was parked. She had gone about half-way when she came upon her father, accompanied by Ralph Clavering, dressed like herself, in his riding outfit.
"Hello, Linda!" he cried. "Passed your physical exam, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes," she answered. "So you're really going to learn, too?"
"I most certainly am. And your father has consented to let us take our lessons together. Won't that be fun?"
"Linda," interrupted her father, as he saw her start away, "where are you going? I want to tell you something."
"Yes, Daddy?" A wild hope surged in her heart that perhaps he had changed his mind about Ted. It wasn't only that she had taken a dislike to H. B. Taylor – it was rather that she had not confidence in him as a teacher. He might be all right as a pilot, but instructing others was a different matter. And he would never really feel any personal interest in her progress, or understand her, like Ted. His attitude almost said that he thought it was silly of girls to want to fly!
But she ought to have known her father better than to think he would change his mind.
"I should like to take your car and go home now, if you don't mind," he said, "because I have some work to do today that is urgent – some people to see about business. And Mr. Clavering has very kindly offered to drive you home. Is that all right? I know you don't like other people to run your car – "
"Oh, Daddy, you're different," she said, forcing a smile. "Of course I don't mind your driving it… But I'm sorry you can't wait for us."
Promising to meet Ralph in a couple of minutes, she walked out to the entrance of the field with her father.
"I need not tell you, dear," he said, "that my decision about Mackay is final. And I want you to have as little to do with him as possible, while you are here. It's for your own good, daughter. I can see that girls might find the young man attractive. But it is well to steer clear of such people. Have all the fun you like with your own friends."
"Yes, Daddy," she managed to reply.
"I guess young Clavering will see to it that your time at home, after most of the others go away for the summer, is not dull. And if you pass your course and get your license, you can fly your plane to Green Falls. I will make arrangements about a place to keep it. I dare say they have maps at the school."
"Yes – and thank you so much – for everything, Daddy," she said. She mustn't let him see that she was disappointed, after all he had done for her! He might be right about Ted – but she didn't think so. Whatever Ted's father might be, she felt sure that Ted was one of the finest young Americans that she had ever known.
Securing her notebook, and handing over her keys to her father, she hurried back to the field, and finished her lesson with Ralph at her side. As they walked out together, she looked about shyly for Ted. It wouldn't do any harm for her just to speak to him; after all he did want to tell her something. At last she spotted him, across the field beside one of the planes – in overalls and jumper now, his red hair brilliant in the sunlight.
"Do you know I believe that's the fellow we chased last night!" exclaimed Ralph. "Do you know him?"
"Yes, I've met him. He took me up a couple of times."
"You know him? Then why was he sneaking around so funny last night? Why didn't he come over and speak to you?"
"He's shy," replied Linda, jumping to the only conclusion that seemed feasible, and her explanation must have been correct, for Ted never looked up from his work as the young couple passed.
Chapter VI
Winning Her License
The next few weeks were the most interesting, the most exciting, of Linda's whole life. Every day she drove over to the Flying School with Ralph, and gained first her theoretical, and then her practical knowledge.
Both she and Ralph were surprised to find that it was so simple a matter to handle a plane. By the middle of July they were accustomed to stepping into the cockpits by themselves, nosing their planes into the wind, and rising to a height of fifteen hundred feet, without even a tremor. Anxiously they counted their hours of solo flying, not only that their licenses would be approved, but because they both wanted to try some stunts. They had studied the principles of loops, Immelman turns, barrel rolls, and falling leaves, and they were wild to try them out for themselves.
Finally, after they had both passed their written examinations, and were only waiting for their licenses to come through, Mr. Taylor allowed them both to try an inside loop and an Immelman turn. Linda's happiness was so great that she felt she just had to tell somebody, so she went home and wrote to her father. Unfortunately, she thought it wiser to say nothing about stunts to her aunt.
Miss Carlton still insisted that she would never get into a plane, not even Linda's. "It's too dangerous," she objected, when her niece was begging her to go for a ride. "I might be killed – and then who would take care of you? And besides, I don't see how anybody could learn to fly in the short time you've been at it."
"But Aunt Emily," explained Linda patiently, "it really is easier than driving a car. Once you are off the ground, the plane practically flies itself. And the higher you are, the safer."
Miss Carlton shuddered.
"I can't believe that, dear. Because the higher you are, the farther you have to fall!"
"But you have all that chance to regain control of your plane," insisted her niece. "Crashes practically always come on the ground – it's very rare indeed that two planes crash in the air, even when they are flying in Army formation."
"How soon do you think you'll get your license?" inquired Miss Carlton, showing that Linda's words had made no impression at all upon her. She was anxious to get away now; Spring City was becoming very hot.
"Any time now," replied the girl, her eyes shining with anticipation. "I have done all the required solo flying – and more too."
"Solo flying? Do you mean you've been up alone? Without even Ralph?"
"Yes, of course! And I love it, Aunt Emily! Oh, if you could just try it once, you'd never be afraid again. It is the most wonderful sensation – up in the skies, all alone! Free as a bird!" She paused abruptly, smiling at her own enthusiasm. She did not often talk like this to anybody, though there was a great deal of poetry in her make-up.
"Well, dear, I'm glad you like it," said Miss Carlton, in a matter-of-fact tone. "But don't overdo it. And don't go in for any stunts."
Ralph Clavering, who had been making it his habit to come over to see Linda every evening, now that all his other friends had gone away, arrived on the porch in time to hear Miss Carlton's admonition. He was about to say something, for he was very proud of his successful "acrobatic flying," when he caught Linda's frown of warning. Of course there was no use of worrying the timid woman, who was worried enough already.
He sat on the railing, dangling his legs, and carelessly lighting a cigarette, as if he were very much at home.
"Linda's little 'Pursuit' is a daisy, Miss Carlton," he said. "It really has a most marvelous motor – and all sorts of safety devices. There's not a thing for you to worry about… I wish I had one like it!"
Linda regarded him sympathetically. It was hard luck that his father, with all his money, refused to buy Ralph a plane! But he had been promised one the following year – if he graduated from college without any conditions. Evidently Mr. Clavering was using it as a spur to his son's ambition, for Ralph had never been keen about his studies. Good times came first with him; besides, he argued, what was the use of learning to make money, when his father already had more than they could spend?
"What are you children going to do this evening?" asked Miss Carlton, though it was nine o'clock now, and there wouldn't be much evening left, for Linda insisted upon going to bed early.
"I'd like to map out our trip to Green Falls," the latter replied. "And then we could show our plan to Lieutenant Kingsberry, and see where the airports are located along the way, in case we have to land."
"Why not Taylor?" inquired Ralph, teasingly, for he knew that Linda did not care much about her instructor.
She gave the boy a withering look.
"Well, then – Redhead? He ought to know. By the way, I never see you talking to him, Linda!"
"I never get a chance. He's always busy, and besides, you're usually with me. I guess he's too shy to intrude."
Nevertheless, she decided that she must have one talk with Ted Mackay before she left the school, to clear up matters that had never been discussed. All during the next week she watched for her opportunity, but it did not come until her final day at the school – the day when she received her license as a private pilot.
Wild with joy at her success, she asked where Ted was, and ran over to the hangar where he happened to be working. For once, Ralph was not with her; he had not yet landed the plane he had been flying.
"Mr. Mackay!" she cried joyously – she was afraid to call him "Ted" now, for he seemed like such a stranger. "I'm a real pilot! I can fly my own plane now, wherever I want to go!"
The young man came over solemnly and shook hands with her.
"May I be the first to congratulate you?" he asked.
"Not the first. Lieutenant Kingsberry has done so already. But, of course, in a way he doesn't count."
"And this is only your beginning, I know!" he said, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You're going to a ground school in the fall – as we used to talk about – aren't you?"
"Yes, I hope so." She hesitated, and looked down at the ground, digging the toe of a dainty slipper – entirely feminine, in spite of her flyer's costume – into the dust. She felt shy, and embarrassed; it was so hard to hurt Ted, and yet she didn't dare disobey her father. "Ted," she said, finally, "could I have just one little talk with you, to clear things up – before I go away?"
"I've been longing for it," he confessed, eagerly. "But I'd decided that you were through with me, on account of my actions that night you got your plane – when I sneaked over to see it. One of the boys heard it roaring over our heads, and ran out to see where it was landing. So, when he came back with the news that it was in your field, I knew it must be yours. When I went over to see it myself – I – I was hoping you'd come out alone – and we could gloat over it together! And then all that crowd showed up, and your aunt too – I was sure it was she – and I just lost my nerve and ran. It looked pretty queer, I guess."
"No, only why didn't you come to the house first?" she inquired.
"I was afraid the butler would say, 'Miss Carlton is not at home' – the way the rich young ladies' butlers always do in the novels."
"Only we haven't any butler," laughed Linda.
"Well, you have a strict aunt – and a father that's made of steel!"
"Don't!" cried the girl, in an offended tone. "You mustn't say a word against my father, or I never will talk to you. But that brings me to what I wanted to say… My father has no time for you, on account of your father. It seems that a man by the same name worked for him on the ranch in Texas – and was untrustworthy. Could that have been your father?"
"I'm afraid it was," admitted Ted, sadly.
"So you see why he selected Mr. Taylor to teach me to fly…" Tears almost came into her eyes, as she saw how sorrowful Ted was looking. "I think it's absurd, myself," she admitted. "But I suppose Daddy means it for the best… I'm – not to be friends with you, Ted… And, oh, I'm so sorry!"
"I'm sorry too, Linda," the boy said slowly. "But somehow I never believed we could be real friends. I'm not like you – I don't believe in fairy stories."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that the poor young man, who has a disgrace to live down, isn't likely to be friends with the rich, beautiful girl – in real life… So I guess it's good-by…" He held out his hand.
"Oh, but I'll at least see you again!" she protested. "Tomorrow I'm going to fly my plane over here and back – all by myself!"
"That's wonderful – I wish I could be here to see you do it," he answered regretfully. "But unfortunately I am leaving myself tomorrow. I'm taking a job as salesman for a plane construction company in Kansas City."
"Congratulations!" cried Linda, pleased at his advancement. "Well, good luck – and good-by!"
"And, by the way," he added, "I want to thank you for wearing my poor little flowers at your class-day. I saw you – through the fence. I was so glad they held the affair out-of-doors!"
"Then they were from you?" she asked, ashamed that she had forgotten to thank him. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure. I meant to ask you. They were lovely."
"I am going to give you a card of my firm," said Ted, reaching into his pocket. "So that you will know where I am, in case you need any help with your Arrow… You – you – don't mind?"
"I'll be very thankful to have it," she reassured him. "You know, Ted, I have an awful lot of confidence in you!"
And, with a final pressure of her hand, he turned to go, and she, looking about, saw Ralph Clavering walking towards her.
"What's the big idea?" he asked her, when he reached her side, and Ted had disappeared. "Holding hands with Red?" His tone was irritable.
"I was just saying good-by," she explained. "He's leaving tomorrow for a job in Kansas City."
"Flying?"
"Naturally."
"Well, we'll be flying away soon, too," he added, more cheerfully. "I had a letter from Kit this morning, and she wants us surely at Green Falls for July thirty-first. It's the Midsummer Ball, and the big event of the season – socially. She told me to tell you and Miss Carlton to be sure not to miss it."
"Oh, I'll be ready by Saturday," replied Linda. "Aunt Emily has been doing all the shopping, so I hardly need to do anything… By the way, did Kit give you any gossip about the crowd?"
"Let me see," muttered Ralph, as he took her arm possessively while they walked across the field, in the hope that Ted Mackay would see them. "She did have quite a bit to say – but it was mostly about Maurry."
"Maurice Stetson? What's he been doing?"
"Rushing Kit, evidently. And she seems to like it… And she said Harry Smith has a life-guard's job, and is spending all his spare time with Lou."
"I haven't heard from Lou in ages," remarked Linda. "But I guess it's partly my fault. I haven't had time to answer her letters." Then, changing the subject, as they came out to the road where Linda's car was parked, "You're going to fly up with me in the 'Pursuit,' aren't you, Ralph?"
"Surest thing! We'll fly everywhere together – from now on. Just like Mr. and Mrs. Lindy!"
"Only we won't!" she answered abruptly, laughing at him.
As they stepped up to the roadster, they almost fell over a man who came out from a shabby coupé in front of theirs. He had evidently been leaning over, fixing something.
"Want any help?" asked Ralph, though Linda knew he hadn't the slightest idea of giving any.
"No, thanks," muttered the man, without looking up. "Engine trouble."
"Engine trouble!" repeated Linda, sympathetically. Then, turning to Ralph. "Suppose something like that should happen to us – on the way to Green Falls!"
"Well, it won't!" replied Ralph reassuringly. "The motor's just about perfect in that little plane of yours! No – but I tell you what, Linda, you better bring your gun along. That crazy sister of mine expects me to bring her pearls up for the Midsummer Ball!"
"Real pearls – at a summer resort!" cried Linda, as she slipped the key into her lock, and started her engine. "She's taking an awful chance!"
"That's what I think. But of course they're insured. And so long as she's succeeded in getting Dad's permission, it's not my business to stop her… By the way, it's a fancy-dress affair. What sort of costume will you wear?"
"I don't know. I guess I'll leave it to Aunt Emily."
But when she got back home, she forgot all about pearls and dresses and mid-summer balls. Nothing mattered to her, but the glorious fact that at last she was a real flyer!