by Edith Lavell
CHAPTER V
_The First Lesson in Flying_
Early the next morning, Linda wakened her father and hurried himthrough his breakfast. There wasn't a moment to be lost, she told himexcitedly, like a child waiting to open her Christmas stocking. Shehad her car under the portico before he had finished his second cup ofcoffee.
"Don't drive so fast that you are killed on the way," cautioned heraunt. "Remember, dear, you have the rest of your life to fly thatplane!"
But the present moment is the only time of importance to young people,and Linda scarcely took in what she was saying. Besides, the cautionwas unnecessary; unlike Dot Crowley and Maurice Stetson, she had toomuch respect for her car to mistreat it by careless driving. Lindaloved 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'drather 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 ina class with others, Daddy?"
"Probably not--for it is a small school. Besides, I can arrange for youto have private lessons. It will hurry things up for you."
"Oh, thank you, Daddy!... But later, I want to go to a regular groundschool, if you will let me." Her tone was as eager as any boy's,starting out on his life work. "And study airplane construction, andwireless--and--and----"
He smiled at her approvingly. What a girl!
"You are ambitious, my dear," he said, but there was pride in hiswords. "I don't see why not, though.... Only, not all at once. As yourAunt Emily reminded you, you have the rest of your life."
"I can't bear to fool!" she exclaimed, impatiently. "Now that I havegraduated, 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'tyou?"
"Well, not exactly. You don't expect to be one of those independentgirls who insist upon earning their own living, do you, dear?"
"I don't know...." Somehow, she couldn't explain. Nobody understoodjust what she wanted except Ted Mackay, and that was because he hadthe same sort of goal himself. Ted Mackay! The memory of her father'scommand 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 owndreams.
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 byairports. Three large hangars, containing probably half a dozen planes,occupied one side of the field, and, near the entrance was a largebuilding, evidently used as an office and school for the theoreticalpart of the courses.
"You have been here before, Linda?" asked her father, as the girllocked her car.
"Yes--a couple of times. I feel almost at home."
Scarcely were they inside the grounds, when Ted Mackay, looking hugeand 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 smileof welcome. Since he wore his helmet, his red hair was not visible,and Linda, glancing apprehensively at her father, knew that the latterhad no idea who Ted was. But, nervous as she was over the meeting thatwas about to take place, she could not help feeling proud of Ted, andwarmed 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 knewthat he had not yet realized who the young man was, or his expressionwould not have been so beneficent. "But first I want you to meet myfather," she said. "Dad--this is Ted Mackay."
She was vexed at herself that she was actually stammering. Acting justlike 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 playedwith Louise when her chum had whooping cough. Her father happened tocome home--and announced that he would take care of her punishment.And what a punishment! For three whole weeks he made her stay in thehouse, without a single companion except her Aunt Emily! He said he'dteach her to obey.
But he wasn't storming, or even frowning now. Merely looking politelyindifferent, perhaps a trifle superior. He made no motion to shakehands with Ted.
"How do you do?" he said. "Would you be kind enough to take us to theman in charge of this field?"
"Certainly, sir," replied Ted.
Immediately, as if he intended to give the young people no chance forpersonal conversation, Mr. Carlton began to ask about the courses thatwere offered.
Ted answered his questions, explaining that Miss Carlton would probablywant to become a private pilot at first.
"You have to pass a physical examination," he said, "and get a permitfrom the Government. Then you must have at least eighteen hours offlying experience--ten with someone else with you, eight of soloflying. There is a written examination, too--all about the rules andregulations that make up the laws of the air. Of course there isn'ta 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 stoppednow at the main building. With a nod of dismissal that was curt, andyet 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 ata 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 somelessons in flying."
Lieutenant Kingsberry, a former Army officer, asked them to be seated,and went over about the same explanation that Ted had given, sayingthat he would be delighted to register Linda, provided that she passedthe 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 justhappens that we so far have not enrolled any of the fair sex. Yourdaughter 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. "Atleast Miss Carlton could take the physical examination, because one ofour doctors is here now. And if she passes that, Mackay can give herthe first lesson."
Linda's expression of delight suddenly died on her lips. For sheglanced at her father, and saw the queer, drawn look about his mouth atthe 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 aremaking a mistake, Mr. Carlton. Mackay is our most reliable flyer--byfar our best instructor. We don't expect to have him here more than amonth or so. He's had a good offer from a big company."
Linda was glancing shyly, pleadingly, at her father, but he did noteven see her.
"Unfortunately I found this young man's father to be mostunreliable--untrustworthy--during the period that I employed him onmy ranch. The fact is, we are not yet through with the trouble thathe started. So you can understand why I should refuse to trust mydaughter to his son. It is an unpleasant but true fact that childreninherit their father's weaknesses. I should not have a comfortableminute, being miles away, and knowing that she was in his hands."
"Of coarse I will accept your decision, Mr. Carlton," repliedLieutenant Kingsberry, "and see that your wishes are carried out. Iwill summon the second ranking instructor--H. B. Taylor."
He called his office boy, a young man learning to fly, a
nd workinghis way at the same time, and gave the necessary message. A couple ofminutes later the man came in, dressed like Ted, but somehow he seemedinsignificant to Linda--as if he were the one who was not reliable. Shesighed.
Her father remained with the lieutenant and the instructor whileshe went into the doctor's office for her physical examination. Sheknew that her eyesight was good, but she felt a little nervous whenthe doctor examined her heart. It was fluttering so! Suppose all theexcitement had been too much for her--and she did not pass! What goodwould her lovely plane be to her, if she were never allowed to pilot itherself?
But she need not have been alarmed, for she came through with flyingcolors. Then young Taylor took her over to one of the planes, and beganto explain about the joystick, the rudder, the ailerons, and everythingelse he could think of, in words of one syllable.
Linda glanced at him, frowning. Did he think she was a baby. Or wasit because she was a girl that his manner seemed so superior, socondescending? Why, he was wasting a lot of time! Ted would have hadher up in the air by this time, perhaps letting her guide the planeherself.
"I am familiar with all these terms, Mr. Taylor," she interrupted. "Yousee I have been up twice--with Mr. Mackay. And I've read a couple ofbooks."
The young man regarded her haughtily.
"It is necessary, Miss Carlton, that you go through the regularlessons, regardless of what you knew beforehand," he answered coldly."And whatever Mr. Mackay may have shown you--as a friend--has nothingto 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, MissCarlton.... Now, have you a notebook and pencil?"
"In my car." She tried to answer naturally, but she was keenlydisappointed.
"Then will you please go and get them," he said, seating himself inthe cockpit of the plane which he had been using to illustrate hisstatements.
Obediently, but half-heartedly, Linda started back for the road whereher car was parked. She had gone about half-way when she came upon herfather, accompanied by Ralph Clavering, dressed like herself, in hisriding 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 ourlessons together. Won't that be fun?"
"Linda," interrupted her father, as he saw her start away, "where areyou going? I want to tell you something."
"Yes, Daddy?" A wild hope surged in her heart that perhaps he hadchanged his mind about Ted. It wasn't only that she had taken a disliketo H. B. Taylor--it was rather that she had not confidence in him asa teacher. He might be all right as a pilot, but instructing otherswas a different matter. And he would never really feel any personalinterest in her progress, or understand her, like Ted. His attitudealmost 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 wouldchange his mind.
"I should like to take your car and go home now, if you don't mind," hesaid, "because I have some work to do today that is urgent--some peopleto see about business. And Mr. Clavering has very kindly offered todrive you home. Is that all right? I know you don't like other peopleto run your car----"
"Oh, Daddy, you're different," she said, forcing a smile. "Of course Idon'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 theentrance of the field with her father.
"I need not tell you, dear," he said, "that my decision about Mackayis 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 thatgirls might find the young man attractive. But it is well to steerclear 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, aftermost of the others go away for the summer, is not dull. And if youpass your course and get your license, you can fly your plane to GreenFalls. I will make arrangements about a place to keep it. I dare saythey have maps at the school."
"Yes--and thank you so much--for everything, Daddy," she said. Shemustn't let him see that she was disappointed, after all he had donefor her! He might be right about Ted--but she didn't think so. WhateverTed's father might be, she felt sure that Ted was one of the finestyoung Americans that she had ever known.
Securing her notebook, and handing over her keys to her father, shehurried back to the field, and finished her lesson with Ralph at herside. As they walked out together, she looked about shyly for Ted. Itwouldn't do any harm for her just to speak to him; after all he didwant to tell her something. At last she spotted him, across the fieldbeside one of the planes--in overalls and jumper now, his red hairbrilliant 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? Whydidn't he come over and speak to you?"
"He's shy," replied Linda, jumping to the only conclusion that seemedfeasible, and her explanation must have been correct, for Ted neverlooked up from his work as the young couple passed.
