The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  Swiftly she ran to the corner of the hangar and picked up the white bundle she had seen. It was something hard wrapped in newspaper. She turned and took it back to the office, puzzling over the contents. Probably Brent would know what it was. Perhaps he had even instructed the man to leave it there. But it was strange, she told herself, the man had seemed so mysterious.

  “I’m just hunting for trouble!” she scolded herself as she rebolted the hangar door behind her.

  “What is that?” Bruce asked when she appeared.

  She laid the package down on the desk in front of Brent. “I saw a man leave it by the corner of the hangar,” she replied.

  Brent unrolled the newspaper and they all gasped.

  “Yeow!” Bruce yelled. “It’s a bomb!”

  Stubby grabbed the bomb and departed on a run, the others behind him. As fast as his short legs could carry him Stubby ran out along the edge of the flying field to where, at the end, a thick group of trees bordered the smooth landing space. When he thought he was a safe distance away from the hangar he deposited the bomb very gently on the ground and bolted back to the others. Silently, standing in the shadow of the hangar, the four of them watched and waited.

  At last with a loud roar a shower of dirt rose high into the air.

  “We might have been going up too if it hadn’t been for Gale,” Bruce said appreciatively.

  Brent said nothing, he merely watched until the last film of earth had settled down into the hole where Stubby had placed the bomb.

  Silently the four went back into the hangar. Brent pressed a switch and the whole hangar was flooded with light.

  Gale and Bruce saw two low winged monoplanes standing side by side. On one the motor stood revealed, signs of Stubby’s work upon it still evident. Brent limped to the latter plane, a black and silver work of art, and laboriously climbed up to look at the motor.

  “Has the other one got your motor, too?” Bruce asked, indicating the yellow plane standing to one side.

  “No. I use that one to run about in while I work on this. I used to experiment with the one I cracked up, too,” Brent said.

  “With all these things happening aren’t you afraid to put everything into that one motor?” Bruce pursued.

  “What do you mean?” Brent turned to look down at him.

  “Well, if the race means so much you should have a—duplicate of that motor,” Bruce said. “I’d put one in that plane, too, so if someone throws a monkey wrench into the works in that motor you still can fly with the other one.”

  “It would take too long to perfect another one now,” Brent said.

  “The one you cracked up had the new motor, didn’t it?” Gale asked.

  Brent looked at her. “It did,” he agreed slowly, “and it wouldn’t take as long to repair that one as to construct a new one.”

  “Could you install it in the yellow plane?” Bruce asked.

  “We could do that,” Stubby said eagerly. “It’s a good idea, boss.”

  “But how would you get it to the airport from the island?” Gale wanted to know.

  They considered this thoughtfully; finally Bruce had a suggestion.

  “David’s father has a light truck we could borrow to bring it from the wharf here,” he said. “And we could bring it across the bay by towing it with my boat. We could put the motor on a raft or something.”

  “Let’s go,” Stubby said impatiently. “We ought to start on it at once.”

  “But someone has to stay here,” Brent said slowly. “I think I had better. I wouldn’t be much help traveling back and forth with this lame ankle. Could you,” he asked Bruce, “get the other boys to help you?”

  “Sure,” Bruce said at once. “We will go now. It won’t take so very long.”

  “I’ll stay here and wait for you,” Gale proposed.

  “Don’t you think you had better go home? Your parents will worry,” Brent Stockton said.

  “They know where I am,” Gale said. “Besides, I want to wait and it isn’t late.”

  Brent and Gale stood at the door of the hangar and watched until Bruce and Stubby had disappeared toward the highway where they were to take the bus back to town. When there was nothing in sight and not a sound to disturb the stillness the young man and the girl continued to stand there. The moonlight was like a path of silver straight down the runway of the landing field.

  “When are you going to test your plane?” Gale asked, watching the slow circle made by the searchlight on top of another hangar.

  “In a day or so,” the pilot answered.

  “Take me up with you?” Gale asked shyly. “I’ve never been up in a plane.”

  “It is thrilling,” Brent said, smiling. “Certainly I’ll take you up. The day before the race in the black and silver plane,” he added.

  Gale felt immediately marvelously happy. To sail through the clouds like a bird—and with Brent Stockton! Gale leaned against the hangar and sighed. Dreamily she closed her eyes. It was a heavenly night. The cool wind stirred a wisp of curly hair against her cheek. The wooliness of her sports coat felt warm. Gone was all thought of school troubles. Gone even was the remembrance of the narrow escape they had all had from the consequences of the bomb.

  But suddenly, quite suddenly, she was afraid. Of what she knew not. Nothing had happened. The moonlight was just as bright, the breeze just as cool and faintly scented. The searchlight still made its steady white circle. The stars shone with the same shimmering brightness. It was something intangible. It was as though, somehow, she had suddenly had a glimpse into the near future. A glimpse of something stark and tragic that was to happen.

  Brent Stockton sensed rather than saw the quiver that ran through the girl. He looked down at her. Her head was on a level with his shoulder, her hands were deep in her pockets. Her eyes were fixed out across the landing field, her lips quivering.

  “What is it?” he asked anxiously.

  “I—I don’t know,” she managed to whisper faintly. “I have the strangest feeling that something is going to happen—something dreadful!”

  “You are cold,” he said, a comforting arm instantly about her shoulders to quiet her trembling. “Come inside.”

  She shook her head, leaning against him, grateful for his nearness and his understanding.

  “No—it is something else. I know something is going to happen. I can feel it!” She turned dark eyes to him. “What can it be?” she whispered fearfully.

  “There is nothing going to happen to you,” he said smiling. “Do not be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid for myself,” she said slowly, “but you—if anything should happen to you—” In confusion, she bowed her head on his shoulder and a sob escaped her.

  His eyes were wide with amazement as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. A tender smile flitted across his face. He had never for one moment supposed that she— How in the world should he deal with the situation?

  “Gale,” he spoke gently, slowly, “have you ever been in love?” He felt her stiffen instantly and her head came up with a jerk.

  “Why—what do you mean?” she asked faintly.

  “Sit down,” he invited. Two boxes stood against the hangar wall and he seated himself beside her. “I am speaking this way because I don’t want you to make a mistake. Have you ever,” he spoke lightly, almost gayly, but Gale could grasp their hidden meaning, “have you ever thought about what the French call—ze grande passion?”

  “Y-Yes, some,” Gale admitted.

  “Will you tell me what you think it is—love, I mean?” he asked softly.

  “Well,” she said with difficulty, “it is probably the biggest thing in our lives, isn’t it? I mean—did you ever read Elizabeth Browning? She says—‘I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!’ I always thought—maybe—I should love someone like that some day.” Gale was so thankful for the darkness here against the hangar. He couldn’t see how her cheeks were burning. Never, never, had she thought she would ever talk
to anyone like this!

  Brent Stockton thoughtfully brushed an imaginary bit of dust from his jacket sleeve. “You are right,” he said. “You should love someone like that. You are young and—quite lovely.” He grinned down at her. “There will be a great many boys in love with you, Gale.”

  Gale felt herself blushing more furiously than ever. How could he talk like that? She laughed lightly.

  “Positively,” he insisted. “But you are still in school. You want to make something of yourself. Remember that! You don’t want love until you are ready for it. You want to finish growing up first. You will find it worth while in the end.” He laughed. “I sound like Old Man Experience himself, but I can’t quite see how to make you understand.”

  Gale was fast regaining her composure. “I believe,” she said forcing a laugh, “that you are in a very good-natured way warning me not to fall in love with you and not to mistake a silly school-girl crush for the real thing.”

  He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Ah, now you have taken offense. I’m sorry, Gale—I only meant the best, to make you—”

  Gale stood up, pulling her coat closer about her. “I don’t think I shall wait for Bruce after all. I shall go home.”

  “I will take you,” Brent said immediately.

  “No, please! I’d rather you didn’t.” Her words rumbled out in a rush and she turned away to the road.

  “Gale,” he called after her. “Wait!” He held out his hand and she put hers into it reluctantly. “You are sweet, Gale. We’re always friends, remember!”

  “Good night,” she said thickly. When she walked to the bus stop there were tears in her eyes, tears of anger and self-reproach. How could she ever face him again? She had practically thrown herself at him! And the way he had talked to her—

  In the darkness she stopped to wipe away a surreptitious tear and instantly came to attention. She had not yet quite reached the road. Here there were heavy trees on each side of her. From the trees on her right came the sound of voices, low, sinister voices. She recognized one of the voices as that of the man who had almost taken the plans from Bruce that night at the old spring house!

  CHAPTER VII

  Invaders

  Gale stepped silently behind a tree and listened. Her heart was thumping heavily. It sounded like thunder in her own ears. The voices were mere whispers now; only occasionally could she catch the words uttered. She puzzled over the snatches of conversation that drifted back to her.

  “Alone—motor in the black plane—so he won’t be able to fly Saturday—now is our chance—worth five thousand to us.” Here there was a lengthy pause before Gale heard: “Let’s go!”

  The last sent her sprinting back the way she had come at top speed. Only partly did she understand, but this much was clear: The two men, she supposed there were only two of them, had discovered that Brent was alone at the hangar. They were going back there to do something—anything to keep him from flying in the races on Saturday. She remembered the night when she and Bruce had agreed to take the plans to Stubby. Brent had told them then that there had been a bold attempt on his life once before. It seemed now there was to be another. She covered the distance to the hangar much more swiftly than she had left it. Sheer terror lent wings to her feet.

  Brent was sitting outside the hangar where she had left him. He stood up slowly when she came into sight.

  “Gale!” he said incredibly, “what is wrong? Has anything happened?”

  Gaspingly she told him of the two men she had overheard. He drew her into the hangar while he thought quickly of what to do.

  “You must get away,” she said.

  “And leave my planes?” he demanded. “I won’t do it. But you must go—now!”

  “Can’t you telephone for help?”

  He snapped his fingers. “Of course, I forgot.” He drew her with him into the little office. He picked up the receiver and jiggled the hook.

  “Hello—Hello—Central!” He slammed it down. “Wires must be cut.”

  “Come,” he added a moment later, “you must get out of here.”

  They went back to the hangar but discovered it was too late. Someone was tampering with the lock on the door. Brent made sure the inside bolt was secure and drew her back to the office. He crossed to the window.

  “Out you go. Back to town for help.”

  “Look!” Gale cried.

  Even as she spoke a brick was hurled through the window, narrowly missing Brent, and the head and shoulders of a man appeared. He had a revolver in his hand and as he pointed it Brent whisked Gale back into the hangar and the office door shut behind him. He turned the key and hurried her across to the black and silver plane.

  “Get in!” he commanded, boosting her up to the pilot’s seat. “Keep your head down!”

  “But—” she began.

  “Keep quiet!” he cautioned. “You stay here no matter what happens. They won’t see you.”

  She said no more but snuggled down, her head just below the edge of the seat. But the blackness and silence was more terrifying than the real danger. Cautiously she raised her head. She wished she knew where Brent was. What was he doing? What were those men doing? The man at the door must have given up his work at the door for she could no longer hear the queer scratching noise.

  Rapidly she made a calculation as to the time. Did Bruce and Stubby have enough time to get to the island and start back with the other motor? They had been gone quite a long time, but they had had a lot of work to do. She had no idea when they would be back.

  “Brent!” she called in a cautious whisper.

  “Here!” he answered at her side. He had been standing beside the plane but in the darkness she could not see him.

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “In the office,” he replied.

  “Are your plans in there?” she wanted to know.

  “No. They are here in the plane.”

  “Couldn’t we make a dash for it out the hangar door if they are in the office?”

  “We could,” he said significantly, “but we have no idea how many more are on the outside. We better sit tight and wait.”

  “But the suspense is terrible,” she declared. “Do you suppose Bruce and Stubby are on their way back?”

  “They are our only hope,” he said quietly. “Hush! Here they come! Head down and quiet!”

  He stepped away from the plane into the blackness as a rending crash sent the office door flying open. For an instant two shadows were silhouetted against the light behind them and then they melted into the darkness of the hangar. But suddenly a round circle of light appeared and moved quickly over the planes and the hangar. One of the men had a searchlight. Quickly Gale ducked her head as the circle of light traveled over the black plane. Vainly she waited for the shout that must come when they discovered Brent. But the cry did not come. Only silence. Where could Brent be? What was he doing?

  “He got away!” a voice said.

  “But the black plane is here. That is all we really want anyway,” the other voice agreed.

  Gale’s heart beat alarmingly. She was in the black plane! The men’s footsteps sounded on the cement floor. They were coming toward her plane. She gripped the sides of the cockpit and wondered if she should sit quietly or announce her presence with a scream. But there was no need for either. A sudden sound and clank of metal. One of the men groaned and fell to the floor. Brent with uncanny precision had thrown a monkey wrench at a point slightly above the circle of light from a flashlight. It had gone home to its mark. In an instant another spot of light had fastened on him and the intruder’s deadly revolver was aimed directly at Brent. But the pilot did not wait for the shot to come. He launched himself forward and both Brent and the man rolled on the floor.

  Gale exposed herself now. How in the world could she keep hidden? She climbed over the side of the plane and dropped to the floor. She moved slowly, carefully toward the wall. If only she could find the light switch! The sounds of the two
men on the floor sent nervous chills through her. They were thrashing about dangerously near to her when her fingers found the switch. Light disclosed the intruder astride Brent and pounding away viciously with his fists but Brent managed to throw him off. At the same time the other man showed signs of life. Gale silently stepped behind him and picked up the revolver he had dropped. As the man gripped the monkey wrench which had hit him and advanced on Brent, Gale cried:

  “No you don’t. Stand still!”

  The man halted in surprise.

  “Brent—” Gale called. “I have this one’s gun. I—”

  The sound of a motor outside! Voices! Help at last! There was a heavy tattoo on the door and Bruce’s voice.

  “Gale—Mr. Stockton!”

  Cautiously Gale backed to the door to unlock it as Brent hauled his victim to a standing position by a heavy hand on the man’s collar.

  “Open the door, Gale, then we will see what this is all about.”

  But the second that Gale relaxed her attention from the man before her to unlock the door was their undoing. The door opened and at the same time the two intruders made a simultaneous dash for the open. The ones outside were too taken aback with surprise to stop them, and by the time Brent and Gale had called a warning the men were dashing toward the road, Bruce and David in hot pursuit. But it was no use. The moment’s start was all the men needed.

  “Talk about excitement—” Gale sighed when Bruce and David had returned. “I’ve had all I want for one night.”

  “I’ll take you home,” Bruce said immediately.

  “I am going to sleep here tonight,” Brent said. “I shall stay here until after the races. Good night, Gale.”

  Gale went off with Bruce and on their journey home told him of all that had happened that night at the hangar—that is, all but her talk with Brent. That was for no one but herself!

  CHAPTER VIII

  A Trip

  Brent Stockton’s enemies, after that one last attempt, seemed to fade into obscurity. Work on the two planes went forward rapidly. If nothing else happened to deter them the planes would be ready in ample time for the races. Bruce and Gale were frequent visitors at the airport as were all the Adventure Girls. The secrecy which, despite their presence, still surrounded the planes intrigued them. Then, too, there was always the hope of more excitement.