by Edith Lavell
CHAPTER II
_The Aviation Job_
"It's marvelous!" exclaimed Linda, as the salesman came to meet herafter her test-flight in the autogiro. "Will you have her filled withgas and oil, while I sign the contract? I'll take her with me."
The salesman smiled at Ted Mackay.
"In the same way any other woman would buy a hat," he remarked, toLouise's amusement.
"You found it easy to fly, Miss Carlton?" he inquired.
"Wonderful!" she replied. "So simple that a child could almost do it!It certainly is the plane of the future, or of the present, I shouldsay."
"We'll probably see one perched on everybody's roof within the nextfive years," teased Louise, although in reality she shared her chum'sadmiration for it.
While the mechanics gave the autogiro a thorough inspection, thelittle group strolled to the office to sign the papers and to meet thepresident of the company.
The salesman introduced Mr. Pitcairn, and added, proudly, "This is_the_ Miss Carlton, of world-wide fame! The only woman who ever flewthe Atlantic alone! And I have had the honor, to sell Miss Carlton anautogiro!"
Linda blushed as she shook hands, and her eyelids fluttered inembarrassment. She could never get used to public admiration.Immediately she began to talk about her new possession.
"I want it for every-day flying," she explained. "I think it will bewonderful for that."
"We believe that it is," agreed the older man. "And we are honoredindeed, Miss Carlton, that you have chosen it. It will be a feather inour cap."
"Miss Carlton never thinks of things like that," remarked Louise. "ButI guess we're glad that she doesn't!"
While Linda signed the necessary papers, and handed her check to thesalesman, the president inquired what her plans included now that shehad graduated from the Ground School with such success.
"I don't exactly know," she replied. "I want to get some kind ofaviation job--I am more interested in the use of planes in every-daylife than I am in races and spectacular events, though I understandthat these have their place. Of course I haven't found anything to doyet, but I mean to try."
"You expect to give your whole time to flying?" asked the other. He hadthought, naturally, that a girl in Linda Carlton's circumstances wouldjust do it for sport.
"Yes--a regular full-time job. I'm not sure what--not selling planes,for I don't believe I'd care for that. And not the mail--unless I can'tget anything else. You don't happen to know of any openings, do you,Mr. Pitcairn?"
"Let me see," he said. "Things are a little slow now. Of course thereare the air-transportation companies, but their routes are about ascut-and-dried as the mail pilot's.... I take it you would rather have alittle more excitement.... There's crop dusting, during the summer. Youhave heard of that, no doubt?"
"Yes, I have read about it."
"You know, then, that one plane flying over a field can spray as manyplants in a day as a hundred of the ordinary spraying machines?"
His listeners gasped in astonishment. What marvelous advances inprogress aviation was bringing about!
"I happen to know of a company in the South that is just forming,"he continued. "Because of lack of capital, they are in great need ofpilots with planes of their own. If you are interested, I am sure theywould be glad to take you on."
"That sounds very interesting," agreed Linda, eagerly. "I'm sure I'dlike that. And an autogiro ought to be especially adapted for this kindof thing. I could fly so low--and land so easily----"
"Exactly! Incidentally, you'd be doing our company a big favor byshowing the public new uses for an autogiro. If Miss Carlton, ofinternational reputation, flies anywhere, the account of it is sure tobe in the newspapers!"
"I wouldn't count too much on that, Mr. Pitcairn," protested Linda,modestly. "I really am not 'news' any more.... But I shall be gratefulfor the name of this firm, if you will write it down for me. Where isit located?"
"In Georgia--the southern part," he informed her. "Here is theaddress," he added, handing her a card. "And I will write myself todayto tell them of their good fortune!"
"Georgia!" repeated Louise. "It's going to be awfully hot there, Linda.Compared with Green Falls--or even Spring City."
"Why not pick a job in Canada?" suggested Ted. "You'd like Canada, ifyou didn't choose the coldest part of the year to visit it."
Louise shuddered at the memory of their adventure during the precedingChristmas holidays.
"I never want to see Canada again!" she said. "And I don't believeLinda does either!"
It was not the memory of that cold night in the Canadian woods, or ofthe cruelty of the police, however, that made Linda frown and hesitatenow. Nor did the heat of the South trouble her--weather was all in theday's work to her. But the thought of the distance between Georgia andOhio, and what such a separation might mean to her Aunt Emily, deterredher from accepting the offer immediately. It hardly seemed right to beaway all winter and spring, and then to go far off again in the summer.
"Would I have to promise to do this all summer, if I took it on?" sheinquired.
"No, certainly not. A month would be enough, for the first time. Thatwould give you August with your family, Miss Carlton, before youaccepted a regular aviation job in the fall."
This sounded much better to Linda, and she promised to write within thenest week, if her father agreed.
It was lots of fun riding back to Spring City in her autogiro thefollowing day, although she flew alone, for Louise wanted to returnwith Ted. Without a mishap of any kind she brought the "Ladybug" downon the field behind her house.
When she entered her home, she found that her father had arrived duringher absence. He was waiting for her in the library.
"Daddy!" she cried, joyfully, for Mr. Carlton's visits were always apleasant surprise to his only child. "You came at just the right time!Come out and see my Bug!"
"Must you call it that, Linda?" asked her Aunt Emily, who, like allgood housekeepers detested every sort of insect.
Linda laughed.
"Take a look at it, Aunt Emily, and see whether you could think of abetter name."
Miss Carlton peered through the screen door.
"Where is it?" she asked.
"Come out on the porch, and you can see it," replied Linda.
Dragging her father and her aunt each by a hand, she gleefully skippedthrough the door.
"There!" she cried, as one who displays a marvel.
At the top of the hill, on the field behind the lovely Colonial house,they saw the new possession. Or rather, the top of the autogiro, for itwas not wholly visible.
"It looks like a clothes-dryer to me," remarked Miss Carlton. "Or awind-mill."
"But you agree that I couldn't call it my 'Clothes-dryer,' or my'Wind-mill,' don't you, Aunt Emily? The words are too long. Besides,Lou thought of the cleverest name--the 'Ladybug.' But you needn'tworry, Auntie, she won't ever creep into your spotless house!"
"I should hope not!"
"In a way, Emily," observed Linda's father, "it's a good name as far asyou are concerned. You hate planes--and you hate bugs!"
"Only, Aunt Emily is going to love my autogiro," insisted Linda,putting her arm affectionately about the older woman, who had been theonly mother she had ever known. "One of my biggest reasons for choosingan autogiro was because it is the safest flying machine known." Hertone grew soft, so low that her father could not hear, and she added,with her head turned aside, "I do want you to know that I care aboutyour feelings, Aunt Emily."
Miss Carlton's eyes grew misty; Linda had always been so sweet, sothoughtful! Her niece couldn't help it, if she had a marvelous brain,and a mechanical mind. No wonder she wanted to use them!
"It's going to be the ambition of my life to convert Aunt Emily toflying," she announced, in a gay tone. "See if I don't, Daddy!"
"I hope so," he said. "How about taking me up for a little fly?"
"A fly?" repeated Linda, playfully. "You a fly--and my new plane a bug!Oh, think of poor Aunt
Emily!"
"Now, Linda, I do believe you're getting silly!"
But already she was pulling her father down the steps, eager to showoff her beloved possession.
Mr. Carlton proved almost as enthusiastic as his daughter about it.When they returned to the house, he laughingly told his sister that hewas thinking of buying one for himself, to use to fly back and forthfrom New York, where his business was located.
Miss Carlton groaned.
"Then we'll have two flying maniacs in the house!" she exclaimed.
"No--Linda and I will usually be up in the air," he corrected, "notoften in the house."
Linda had scarcely time to change from her flyer's suit into anafternoon dress, and no chance at all to talk with her father aboutMr. Pitcairn's suggestion about a job, when Ralph Clavering drove overto see her. Linda was delighted, of course; here was another person towhom she could display her autogiro. Ralph was a licensed pilot, too,although with him flying was only a secondary interest, and he hadnever had his own plane.
"Come out and see my 'Ladybug'!" she insisted. "And wouldn't you liketo try her out? I might let you!"
"No, thanks, Linda--I'd be sure to do something wrong. Besides, I'drather talk to you--those things make such an infernal noise. No, justshow it to me, and then let's go and have a game of tennis beforesupper, if you're not too tired."
"I've almost forgotten how to play," replied the girl. "But I'll try.If you will come out and see my 'Ladybug' first."
After they had examined the autogiro, and were driving to the CountryClub in Ralph's roadster, the young man turned the conversation to thetopic of vacation at Green Falls, the resort at which Linda's aunt, andmost of her friends, had spent the preceding summer. Ralph told Lindaabout a new motor boat that he was getting, and spoke of the contestsin all sorts of sports that would be repeated this year.
"How soon do you think you can get off, Linda?" he concluded eagerly.
"Not till August, I'm afraid," she replied, to his dismay.
"August!" he repeated, in horror. "You're not going to pull some newstunt on us, are you, Linda? Fly the Pacific--or the Arctic Ocean?"
The girl laughed, and shook her head.
"I'm through with stunts for a while, Ralph--you needn't worry aboutthat. No; what I am planning now is steady work. I expect to take ajob, as soon as Kit's wedding is over."
"A job? Where?"
"In Georgia, probably." She went into details about the proposition.
"You would!" he muttered, sulkily. "And pick out such a hot spot, thatnobody would want to go with you.... Linda, why can't you be sensiblelike other girls--like my sister Kit, for instance?"
"Kit?"
"Yes. And get married."
He leaned over hopefully, and put his hand on her arm. Now that Lindahad accomplished her ambition in flying the Atlantic, perhaps she wouldbe willing to settle down to marriage and a normal life.
But she drew away, smiling.
"Don't, Ralph!" she warned him. "Remember that you promised me youwouldn't ask me till you had finished college."
"All right, all right," he muttered, irritably, resolving that hewouldn't again. Let her wait awhile! She'd probably get tired ofworking after she'd had a taste of it for a month in that hot climate.
They met Dot Crowley and Jim Valier at the tennis courts, and doubledup with them for a couple of sets. But they were badly beaten, forthese two were the best team at the Club.
After dinner that evening Linda had a chance to tell her father and heraunt of her proposed plan for the coming month, and won their consent,when she announced her intention of spending August at Green Falls. ToMiss Carlton she put the all-important question of clothes; the olderwoman promised to get her half a dozen flyer's suits of linen for thetrip.
During the next week Linda accepted enough invitations to satisfy evenher Aunt Emily, and she wore one new dress after another, and flittedfrom tennis match or picnic to tea or dance, as the program happened tobe. The grand finale was Kitty's wedding, at the girl's beautiful homejust outside of Spring City.
It was a gorgeous affair, and Linda could not help thinking how BessHulbert, the Lieutenant's sister, would have enjoyed it, had she notgiven her life in the attempt to win the big prize which Linda herselfhad captured. Personally, she did not like the affair nearly so much asLouise's simple wedding at Easter.
Linda was quiet as she drove home beside her Aunt Emily in thelimousine. She could not help wondering whether this event did notmark the end of her girlhood, the beginning of her career as aself-supporting woman--out in the world. No longer would she be free tocome and go as she liked, to see her old friends at any and all hoursof the day and evening. The thought was a little saddening, and shesighed.
Her aunt laid her hand over her niece's.
"Why the sigh, dear?" she inquired. "Tired?"
Linda nodded.
"Yes--and weddings are so solemn--so sort of sad, aren't they, Auntie?To the other people, I mean--for of course there's nothing sad aboutKit and Tom. But it means I won't see them much----"
"It isn't their wedding that causes that, dear," Miss Carlton remindedher. "Kitty and Tom will be back and forth often, I think, for theyare not living far away.... But it's you who are leaving the rest,Linda. Oh, if you only wouldn't go so far away, dear!"
"I guess you're right, Aunt Emily," admitted the other. "But I can'thave my cake and eat it too. There isn't any flying job in Spring City."
Miss Carlton was silent; there was no use in going over the oldargument. Instead, she asked:
"How soon do you go, Linda?"
"Tomorrow--if the weather is good. I received my map and myinstructions several days ago. I'm all ready. The Ladybug's in perfectshape."
"If you only didn't have to go alone!" sighed the older woman.
"Yes. If I only had Lou!"
"Couldn't you take some other girl?"
"As a matter of fact, I did suggest such a thing to Dot Crowley. She'scompetent, you know--has her pilot's license--and she's such a peach ofa girl. I know we'd get along beautifully together. But she's all tiedup with a tennis match, and can't possibly leave now."
Little did Linda think, as she took off the following morning in thebright June sunshine, how deeply she was to regret this decision ofDot's, how she was to wish a hundred times within the next week thatshe had some companion who was a friend.
For the people she fell among proved to be the worst sort ofassociates.
