Linda Carlton's Ocean Flight

by Edith Lavell

  CHAPTER XV

  _Plans for the Ocean Flight_

  The last day of the Christmas vacation--New Year's--passed very quicklyfor Linda Carlton. The dance had continued until almost dawn, and foronce she stayed to the end. For there was no flight in store for her onthe morrow, or the day after. She could be as sleepy as she wanted to.

  Accordingly, her aunt did not wake her until noon, and only thenbecause her father was taking a late afternoon train back to New York.

  "I want to go for a walk with you this afternoon, Daughter," he said,while she ate her combined breakfast and luncheon. "I would like tohave a talk with you."

  "Yes, Daddy," replied Linda, trembling inside, lest he intended to tellher that he would forbid the ocean flight.

  "Can you spare the time--say about three o'clock--from your socialengagements?"

  "I haven't any social engagements," she replied. "Lou and I didn'taccept anything for after Christmas Day."

  "But I heard your aunt tell Mrs. Clavering this morning on thetelephone that she'd see that you went to Kitty's dinner party."

  Linda yawned. She had enjoyed the dance the night before, but it wasenough to last her for a while.

  "Is Lou going?" she inquired.

  "I couldn't tell you that, my dear. You can call her up."

  "All right. But in any case that wouldn't interfere with our walk,Daddy. I'll be ready at three."

  Unlike most of her girl friends, whose days were spent in constantsocial activities, Linda was always punctual about her engagements. Asthe clock struck three, she appeared in the living-room. Dressed in hergray squirrel coat and matching beret and cloth boots, she presenteda beautiful picture of up-to-date winter fashions. Linking her armaffectionately in her father's, she accompanied him out into the crisp,clear air, and started towards the outskirts of the town.

  "Wouldn't you rather be sledding, my dear?" he asked, gazing at her inadmiration.

  "No, indeed!" she hastened to reply. "I'd much rather be with you....Anyway, I suppose there will be a sledding-party after dinner tonight.Kitty told us to bring our sweaters and riding-breeches."

  "Very well.... Have you guessed what I wanted to talk to you about?"

  "Yes, I think I have--Daddy," she faltered.

  "You have?" he repeated, smiling. "Well, first of all I want to tellyou that I am exceedingly proud of your courage and pluck up thereon the border, and in Canada, and that I think you have proved yourability to take care of yourself in a plane."

  "Daddy!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "I was afraid you and Aunt Emilywould say I could never fly again! After all the anxiety I caused you."

  "That is what your aunt would like to say--but I feel differently. Whathappened was due to no fault or carelessness of yours, no lack of skillon your part. A less able pilot would have been killed, I am sure."

  "It's awfully sweet of you to say that!"

  "Well, I mean it. I'm convinced now that you have a right to go onwith aviation. And I am willing for you to order your plane for theocean flight."

  A thrill of emotion ran through Linda, so intense that she could notspeak. Clasping his arm tightly with both her hands, she told him inthe only way she could of her great gratitude.

  Then she remembered his business.

  "You won't need the money, Daddy?" she asked, after a moment.

  "No--not now that I feel sure that your trip saved me, and that thisunfair competition will cease. But just to make sure, I'll go to Canadatomorrow, and visit the Convent myself. I'll wire you results."

  "I think," she said slowly, with tears dimming her blue eyes, "that youare the most wonderful father a girl ever had."

  He patted her hand gently, not knowing how to reply, and they walked onfor some time in silence.

  It was not until the short winter afternoon was coming to a close, andthey had turned their steps towards home that he mentioned his sister.

  "I don't want you to say anything at all of this to your aunt, Linda,"he cautioned her. "She might play on your unselfishness, and make yougive it up. It is a risk, of course--I understand that, and I knowjust how she feels. But we all have to take risks in life; it wouldbe dull indeed if we didn't. So I think I had better handle the thingmyself--tell her sometime when I happen to come home when you aren'tthere. I can win her around to it, I know."

  "That would be wonderful, Daddy!" cried the girl, in relief. It hadbeen worrying her for a long time whenever she thought of securing heraunt's consent. She even believed that she might weaken herself, if theolder woman used tears and pleading. For Linda could never forget whata loving foster-mother her Aunt Emily had always been.

  "By the way, have you picked out your plane?" her father inquired.

  "Yes, indeed! It's a Bellanca--they call it Model J 300. Just builtfor ocean flights! Oh, Daddy, it has everything to make it perfect!A capacity for carrying one hundred and five additional gallons ofgasoline, besides the regular supply in the tanks of one hundred andeighty gallons! And a Wright three-hundred-horsepower engine, and atachometer, and a magnetic compass----"

  "There, that's enough, Daughter!" he interrupted, smiling. "I'm afraidI don't know what all those terms mean. If you're satisfied that it'sthe best you can buy----"

  "Oh, I am! I'm crazy about it. I'm going to put in my order the minuteI get your telegram."

  "And if anything should happen, so that you had to come down in thewater, would it float?" he asked, with an imperceptible shudder. Inspite of his bravery, the thought of Linda over that deep, wide oceanat night made his flesh creep.

  "Yes, Daddy. The tanks permit the plane to float. You can be sure itwill have every modern invention, every safety device there is today.It will cost about twenty-two thousand dollars!"

  "That's right, Daughter," he approved. "If you're going at all, youmust do the thing with the utmost care. Don't try to save money. A fewhundred dollars might mean the difference between disaster and success."

  "I know," she answered, solemnly.

  As they were approaching the house, they began to talk of otherthings, as if by silent agreement. Airplanes and ocean flights wereapparently forgotten, for the moment they were inside, Linda's AuntEmily was urging her to get ready for the party. Unfortunately, Louisewas not going. Like Linda, she had been invited at first, but once sherefused, she was not popular enough with Kitty to be asked again. SoLinda could not talk of her trip with anyone; she would have to waituntil the following day, when Louise accompanied her back to the groundschool.

  It seemed strange indeed, to get up early the next morning and takea train back to St. Louis. Both the girls regretted the loss ofthe Pursuit, and realized how they were going to miss it, but theyresolutely decided to be good sports and to try to joke about it.

  "Don't forget we have to buy tickets," Linda reminded her chum. "Don'tgo to the window and ask for high-test gasoline!"

  "Won't a train seem slow?" returned Louise. "Oh, well, we won't have tocare about the weather, that's one good thing! Besides, we can sleep."

  "As if you ever made a flight without at least one good nap!" teasedthe other.

  But in spite of their assumed gayety, it seemed like a tiresome,endless journey, with a change of cars and a wait at the station. Itwas afternoon before they finally arrived at their destination.

  Both girls had decided to say nothing about their holiday adventure,but when they reached the school, they found themselves being treatedas heroines. Everybody had read all about them in the papers, and knewthat they had jumped from parachutes and that they had lost the Pursuit.

  "But you'll soon be graduating from here, and making all kinds ofmoney," one of the instructors told Linda hopefully. "And then you willbe able to buy another plane of your own."

  (Sooner than you think, Linda said to herself, for no one but Mr.Eckers at the school knew of her proposed trans-Atlantic flight.)

  Both girls plunged headlong into the work, forgetting everything butthe studies that were before them. Only, Linda could not forget towatch
eagerly for the telegram that would mean her father's finalconsent.

  It arrived three days later, saying that all his business troubles hadvanished, and that he had sold enough of her bonds for her to write acheck for her Bellanca.

  Wild with joy, she dashed across the flying field to the hangar whereLouise happened to be taking some notes from Eckers.

  "Everything's O.K.!" she cried, as she burst open the door. "We can flyto Paris, Lou!"

  Her chum jumped up and the girls hugged each other in ecstasy, much tothe amusement of the elderly instructor.

  "So you're ordering a Bellanca long-distance mono-plane?" he asked.

  "Yes. Tonight! Oh, Mr. Eckers, from its pictures, from its description,it's absolutely marvelous. And as safe as an ocean-liner!"

  "Safer!" amended Louise, "Ocean-liners sometimes sink. But never aBellanca!"

  "We're going to be awfully careful and thorough about our preparations,Mr. Eckers," Linda explained, as she detached herself from Louise'sarms, and sat down on the edge of his desk. "Just like Lindbergh!"

  "Well, I hope you have Lindbergh's success," was the instructor'sfervent wish. "But tell me, Miss Carlton, have you heard of any otherswho are planning to try for this prize?"

  "Only one so far. She's in England now, having her plane built there, Ibelieve."

  Louise gritted her teeth at the mention of Bess Hulbert, but she saidnothing.

  "Then you'll simply have to beat her!" cried the man, enthusiastically."It must be an American plane that wins. And American girls!"

  "Of course some of our best aviatrices may compete," put in Louise.

  "You mean women like Amelia Earhart?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Somehow I don't think she will," said Mr. Eckers. "Miss Earhart is toogood a sport to take honors from a younger, less experienced flyer.She doesn't go out for sensational glory. She doesn't have to. She hasalready won her place."

  "But of course some of the younger girls may."

  "Yes. But you girls have a better chance than anybody, I think. Betterprepared. Besides, the difficulty is going to be getting a suitableplane. It would be fool-hardy for anybody to take a chance in a planethat wasn't super-tested, and super-equipped. And few parents aregoing to give their consent, even if they can provide the money.... Ibelieve your greatest opponent is this English girl."

  "Well, we're going to beat her!" announced Louise, defiantly, and shedid not add that she meant to take harsh measures if that young womanput in an appearance in the United States.

  "When do you expect to go?" questioned Eckers.

  "The twentieth of May, if the weather is right," replied Linda. "Ibelieve in luck, and that was Lindy's lucky day."

  "And Linda Carlton's!" added Louise, as the girls went off to sendtheir order.