by Edith Lavell
Produced by David K. Park and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Linda climbed into the plane without the slightestmisgiving. (Page 271)]
LINDA CARLTON'S OCEAN FLIGHT
By EDITH LAVELL
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Akron, Ohio New York
Copyright MCMXXXI THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Linda Carlton's Ocean Flight
_Made in the United States of America_
LINDA CARLTON'S OCEAN FLIGHT
CHAPTER I
_In the Fog_
"My girl, you are in perfect physical condition," announcedpleasant-faced Dr. Ginsley, who had served as the Carlton familyphysician for years. "I can't picture anybody in more radiant health."
"I thought so," smiled Linda Carlton, the pretty aviatrix who had beenflying her Arrow biplane for the last three months. "But Aunt Emilywanted to make sure, before I go any further with aviation."
"Yes, of course, she's right. And what are you planning now?"
"A thorough course at a good ground school, so that I can get atransport license--that ranks the highest, you know. I--I haven'tdecided on any particular school yet, because Aunt Emily still opposesthe idea. She wants me to have a coming-out party instead, like theother girls in Spring City. So I'm waiting for Daddy to come home."
"And if I'm a judge your daddy will let you go to the school," said thedoctor admiringly. "I heard all about how you saved his life with yourplane!"
"Oh, no!" protested Linda, modestly. "It was that wonderfulsurgeon--Dr. Lineaweaver--who did that. I was merely lucky enough to beable to get him in time."
The doctor chuckled.
"Well, luck or no luck, you made a long flight alone at night. I thinkit was marvelous. You can't tell me anything bad about the young peopletoday. To my mind, they're finer and braver than they were in my day!And that's something from an old man....
"Well, good-by, Linda, and good luck! I suppose you're not flyinganywhere today?"
"Oh, no! It's too foggy."
She opened the door of the waiting-room that led to the porch, and itseemed immediately as if the fog rushed right into the house. It wasdamp and penetrating, and so dense that it hid the doctor's gate fromview.
Linda stepped out on the porch, and almost bumped into a woman witha small child in her arms. The stranger seemed almost to appear fromnowhere, out of the obscurity of the fog.
"Oh, you must excuse me!" she cried, excitedly. "I'm that worried Ican't see where I'm headed!"
"It was just as much my fault," replied Linda. "Or really, it wasn'teither's," she added. "We'll blame it on the fog."
But the other did not seem to be listening, and looking closely at her,Linda saw how deeply distressed she was. Evidently she was very poor,for her worn blue serge dress hung about her ankles, as if it had beenbought for someone else, and her brown straw hat looked about the styleof 1900. But she evidently had no concern for her own appearance; shekept her gaze fastened on the doctor's face, and her eyes were filledwith terror. Was it possible that the baby was dead--or dying? Lindapaused and waited, wondering whether she might be of any help.
"Doctor!" gasped the woman, frantically. "My baby swallowed a pin! AndI'm sure it's in her lungs now. She breathes so queer."
"When did this happen?" asked Dr. Ginsley, gently taking the child inhis arms, and motioning Linda to come back into the house.
"Last week." The woman started to cry, and sympathetically, hardlyrealizing what she was doing, Linda put her arm about her.
"But why did you wait all this time to come to a doctor?" inquired theelderly man, trying to soften his disapproval by a kindly tone.
"Because," stammered the other, between her sobs, "because my motherthought it would be all right. One of my brothers swallowed a tack whenhe was little, and nothing happened. And--we live out in the country,and we're so awful poor!"
"I'm afraid it's too late now," sighed the doctor. "I'll make anexamination, of course, but if the pin is lodged in the child'slung, there is nothing I, or anybody else--except that surgeon inPhiladelphia--could do. And he's too far away."
The tears rolled down the woman's face, and the tiny little girl--abouttwo years old, Linda judged--seemed almost to realize the deathsentence, for she opened her blue eyes and uttered a pitiful littlemoan. And, strangely enough, she reached out her tiny hand towardsLinda.
"You precious baby!" exclaimed the tender-hearted girl, touching herhot little fingers. "You are so sweet!"
It seemed almost as if the little girl tried to smile, and at thispathetic effort the distracted mother broke out into convulsive sobs,hiding her head on Linda's shoulder.
"She's my only girl!" she moaned. "I have three boys, but this baby hasalways been nearest to me.... My--my little bit of Heaven!"
Silently, sympathetically, the doctor laid the child down on his tablein the office, and got out his instruments, while Linda drew theheart-broken mother to a chair near-by.
"It is as you feared," he said, finally. "There is nothing I can do."
"But--this doctor in Philadelphia----?" began the woman, seizing theone ray of hope he had mentioned. "Is the carfare there very much? Oh,sir, if you could only lend me some money to go, I'd work my fingers tothe bone to pay you back!"
Dr. Ginsley shook his head sadly.
"I'd be glad to lend you the money, my good woman," he said, "but itwouldn't be a bit of use. The journey would take too long; the childcan't live more than a few hours."
A shiver of horror crept over Linda as she saw the baby's pitifulbreathing, and the mother's utter despair. Turning to the window sheglanced out at the fog, thinking rapidly.... Should she offer to takethem, when it was only a chance at best--a chance in more ways thanone? A few hours, the doctor said, were all that the baby had tolive.... Suppose Linda could get through the fog with her Arrow, wouldthe trip be all in vain? Would she be risking her own life, to watchthe child die in her mother's arms?... Yet something inside of hercompelled her to offer her services; she would be less than human ifshe didn't try to do something.
"I will take you and the baby in my plane, Mrs.----" she said.
"Beach," supplied the woman, unable to grasp what Linda meant.
"Oh, no! No, my dear!" protested Dr. Ginsley, immediately. "That wouldnot be wise. It would mean risking two good lives to save one that isalmost past hope.... No, you mustn't do that--in this fog."
"I--I don't know what you mean," faltered Mrs. Beach. "An airplane?"
"Yes, yes," explained Linda, hastily. "I am a pilot, and I have a planeof my own. I will take you and the baby to Philadelphia."
"You mean that?" cried the woman, hysterically.
"Yes, of course I do. Come over to my house with me while I get ready."
"Linda, I don't approve of this," interrupted Dr. Ginsley. "Thisfog--your father--your aunt--I thought you had too much good sense totake foolish risks."
"Not when it is a case of life or death," answered the girl, quietly."Come, Mrs. Beach! There isn't a moment to be lost."
She managed to smile at the doctor, who stood in the doorway, watchingtheir departure, torn between his feeling of fear for Linda in the fog,and his admiration for her brave, generous spirit.
"Then good luck to you!" he called, as they went cautiously towards thegate.
"My husband is here in the buggy," said Mrs. Beach to Linda, as theyreached the street. "I must stop and tell him."
"You are sure you are not afraid?"
"No! I believe in you, Miss! And, oh, I'd risk anything to save mylittle girl.... Besides, I've always wanted to go up in an airplane."
After a word of explanation to the
astonished man in the rickety oldcarriage, Mrs. Beach followed Linda across the street to the girl'slovely home. It was a charming colonial house, much too large for twopeople, as Miss Carlton, Linda's aunt, always said. For the girl'sfather was scarcely ever there, except for over-night visits.
Mrs. Beach, who under ordinary circumstances would have been impressedwith its splendor, now hardly noticed the lovely house, or thebeautiful room where she waited while Linda changed into her flyer'ssuit and helmet, and scribbled a hasty note to her aunt, who happenedto be out shopping at the time. In an incredibly short interval shereappeared, her arms laden with woolen clothing--a scarf for the baby,a cap and coat for the mother.
While the gardener rolled the plane from its hangar, Linda fastened theparachutes on herself and her companion, and explained how to use them.
"You would have a hard time," she said, "with the baby." (She did notsay impossible, though she believed that herself.)... "But perhapswe could strap her to you, with this extra belt, here, if an accidentoccurs.... But don't let's worry! Probably nothing will happen, but wemust be prepared at all times."
After a hasty examination of the gas, the compass, the oil gauge, andthe other instruments, Linda started her engine, and listened to itseven whir. Sound and steady as an ocean-liner, thank goodness! So sheput Mrs. Beach into the companion cockpit beside herself, and with aheart beating faster than it had ever beaten, even on that occasionwhen she made her first solo flight at school, she took off into thethick grayness all about them.
As the plane left the ground, she carefully pointed it upward in agradual ascent, hoping that perhaps she could get above the clouds.She must fly high--it would be dangerous crossing the Alleghenies. Shehoped she could depend upon her instruments; they had never failed heryet.
Up, up they climbed, but always within the veil of gray that closedupon them so completely. No horizon was visible, it seemed as if theywere floating inside a gray ball, with nothing to tell them wherethey were going. The child was asleep in her mother's arms, andLinda glanced questioningly at Mrs. Beach. But her expression was allmaternal love; no fear of danger for herself seemed to have any part inher feelings.
Everything about the experience seemed queer, so detached from theworld, so unreal. A mysterious journey that was no part of everydaylife. More than once Linda wondered whether they were not flyingunevenly, perhaps upside down! Oh, if she only had a gyroscopic pilot,that marvelous little instrument that would assure an even keel!... Shewould ask her father to give her one for Christmas--if she lived tillthen! She smiled in a detached way; she thought of herself almost asanother person, in a book or a play.
The plane was evidently dipping. Suddenly, with that sixth sense withwhich every good pilot is equipped, she felt a stall coming on. Itwas a sort of sinking sensation; then the ailerons on the end of thewings failed to function. She pushed the stick frantically from sideto side--with no response! In that brief moment she glanced again ather companion, so absorbed in her child, and she knew that the motherwould not mind going to her death if the baby could not live.
But Linda meant to do everything in her power to save them all. Shehad been in difficulties before, and she knew how to overcome them,if it were humanly possible. Fortunately she was flying high, so sheimmediately pushed the nose of the Pursuit forward and dropped theplane three hundred feet to regain speed. And then, oh, what a gorgeousfeeling of relief swept over her, as she succeeded in coming out ofthat stall! The plane was now flying evenly. Her gasp of thankfulnesswas audible, but the woman beside her did not even notice.
"Maybe I'm not glad Daddy bought me an open plane!" she thought, as sheflew steadily onward. "If I couldn't feel the wind in my face.... Oh,you dear Arrow, you have never failed me!"
And then, miraculously, the fog lifted. Everything was clear in thesunlight; all her fears were gone--now she could make speed. Onwardthey went, over the mountains, and the rivers, through Pennsylvania,flying low enough to see the wonderful beauty of the early autumn inthat lovely part of the country. At last they came to Philadelphia,and flew straight to the airport at the southern end of the city, andlanded in safety.
"The baby is--breathing!" she asked, as she watched the attendant whocame forward to welcome them.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Beach, rapturously. "Oh, I think you must be anangel, Miss Carlton!"
"If we are only in time!" returned the girl. "We taxi from here."
"But I haven't much money----"
"I have. Come! There isn't a moment to be lost!"
Linda left her plane with the attendant, and helped Mrs. Beach withher baby into the waiting taxicab. In half an hour they were at thehospital.
"You--you will stay with me?" questioned the woman, trembling.
"Of course."
The great surgeon was kindness itself. Mrs. Beach, who had feared thathe would be brusque, was delighted. A nurse took the baby immediatelyinto the operating room.
Linda was intensely hungry; it was long past her lunch-time, but shesaid nothing of it, while they waited tensely in that outer room. Shehad not failed the poor woman yet, and she would not now, at her mostdifficult hour.
At last the doctor appeared, his face beaming with smiles.
"Your baby is fine!" he announced. "And one of the sweetest littlegirls I have ever seen.... The nurse is putting her to bed now."
Mrs. Beach burst into tears of happiness, and rushed forward andclasped the surgeon's hand in rapture.
"Oh, I can never thank you enough!" she cried. Then, drying her eyes,she added, "And how much do I owe you, Doctor?"
The great man had been taking in the woman's appearance, her poorclothing, her work-hardened hands.
"Five dollars," he said, not making the mistake of saying "Nothing,"for he realized that she would resent charity.
"The Lord be praised!" she exclaimed, reverently. "Two angels I havemet today--you and Miss Carlton! Two utter strangers who do things likethis for me!" She buried her head in Linda's arms and wept hystericallyin her joy.
After the bill was paid, the doctor told them that they might stopin to see the baby. Following the nurse, they tiptoed down a corridorand into a children's ward, where they found the little tot in a whitecrib, breathing naturally, sleeping the dreamless sleep of childhood.
"She had better stay here for a few days," advised the nurse. "You canfind a cheap room a couple of doors away from the hospital." And shehanded Mrs. Beach a card.
It was then, and only then, that the happy mother realized that she hadnot eaten since the night before.
"We'll get something to eat first," she said to Linda as they left thehospital together. "And then you will want to fly back home?"
"No," replied the girl. "I think I'll stay over night--to get a goodrest, and fly by daylight. And besides, you will not be so lonely."
So, after sending her aunt a telegram to that effect, Linda Carltontreated her grateful friend to the best meal she had ever eaten in herlife.
