The Telegram
“I hear you have made a new conquest, Linda!”
Tiny Kitty Hulbert, Ralph Clavering’s married sister, sat on the edge of
the diving board the following morning and talked to Linda, who was
watching the newspaper reporter, Mike O’Malley, trying to teach Amy to
swim. But the young girl was terribly frightened, and was not making
progress.
Linda blushed and smiled.
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly——”
“But it’s true,” said Kitty. “I never saw anybody more thrilled than
Lord Dudley. He thinks you’re just about perfect.”
“When did you see him?” asked Linda, trying to keep her voice calm. This
was Wednesday, the day after her flight across the lake, and
incidentally the last day for the contestants to register for the
treasure hunt.
“Oh, we haven’t seen him since you did yesterday,” returned Kitty. “But
I heard about the flight before he left, and he seemed awfully excited.
Just like a kid of sixteen, in love for the first time.”
Linda blushed; so other people had noticed it, too! She wondered if it
would be the talk of Green Falls.
“Have you known him long, Kit?” she inquired.
“No. One of Tom’s friends—John Kuhns—met him in a railroad station, just
after he had landed from England, and he seemed so sort of lost and
lonely that he entertained him. His family liked him so much that they
invited him to their summer place, and then suddenly changed their plans
and went abroad instead. So John asked Tom to look out for him, and that
is how we happen to be entertaining him at Green Falls. I was kind of
scared at the idea of royalty, but he seems just like anybody else.”
“I wonder how old he is,” mused Linda, more to herself than to Kitty.
“Too old for you, dear,” replied Kitty. She knew how much Ralph cared
for Linda, and she hated to see him suddenly cut out by a foreigner with
a title, charming as Lord Dudley was. “You’re not serious about him are
you, Linda?”
“Oh, I like him,” replied the other. “I guess all the girls do— By the
way, Ralph invited me to your house to lunch to-day. Is that right?”
“Yes indeed, I’m expecting you. And you know it’s the last chance to
register for the hunt. You’re entering, aren’t you?”
“I hope to. I’m going to pin Aunt Emily to a definite answer before I
come over to-day. I must go in now, Kitty, for I see that Amy is tired
of swimming. She’ll want to go home in a minute.”
“Haven’t her parents turned up yet?”
“No, they hadn’t when we left.”
“It seems queer.”
“Yes, it does. I’m really worried about her now. If she could only
remember!”
“Well, as long as your Aunt Emily is taking care of her, she’ll be all
right. Now go along—get your swim, and I’ll see you at one o’clock.”
Linda dived into the water, but she did not swim long. Amy was standing
still, up to her neck, clinging nervously to Mike’s hands. Though the
sun and the air were warm, she seemed to be shaking all over.
“Miss Amy’s scared to death,” announced Mike. “She acts like a person
who has never gotten over a drowning scare.” He turned to the girl.
“Have you ever been drowned, Miss Amy?”
The girl burst out laughing at the absurdity of the question, and seemed
her normal self again. But she was glad that Linda suggested that they
all go home.
They entered the house with the usual hope, a hope which was gradually
dying now, of hearing from Amy’s family. But Miss Carlton had to tell
them again that no one except her own friends had telephoned. Linda
hurried off to dress for the luncheon at Kit’s.
“Where are you going, dear?” Miss Carlton asked her, half an hour later,
when her niece appeared in a new dress, a flowered chiffon, which she
would hardly have worn for lunch at home by themselves.
“I’m going to Kitty’s, Aunt Emily. To help plan for the treasure hunt.
You—you don’t mind if I take part in it, do you? I have to let them know
to-day.”
Miss Carlton sighed.
“I suppose it would be unreasonable to try to keep you out,” she
admitted. “But I am so afraid of crashes with other planes. It is just
like driving a car—much safer where there is no other traffic, for you
never can tell what the other people will do.”
“I know. But I’ll be careful, Aunt Emily. And Ralph and Kitty are so
anxious for me to go into it.”
Miss Carlton weakened; as usual the mention of the Claverings had a
softening effect upon her. She liked Linda to be with them, to take part
in the social affairs of her young friends.
“All right, dear. I agree, though I really don’t approve.”
Linda kissed her.
“But you never do approve, even if I only go up in the air for half an
hour,” she teased.
“I thought I was growing used to it, till those awful things happened to
you in the Okefenokee Swamp.”
“But it was thieves, not airplanes, that caused all the trouble. It
might have happened if I had been riding horseback.”
“True. Have your own way, dear.” But Linda could tell by her voice that
she wasn’t angry.
Ten minutes later Linda parked her roadster in front of Kit’s bungalow
and ran up the porch with the good news. Kit and Dot, Ralph and Mr.
Clavering were all sitting on the big couch hammock, poring over a map.
“We have to fly over Lake Michigan!” announced Dot, proudly. “Isn’t that
marvelous?”
“Perfect,” agreed Linda, glad that this hunt was not to be a “play”
flight of a few miles or so. A hundred miles as a beginning—that ought
to be thrilling.
“The first landing is to be the Milwaukee airport,” said Mr. Clavering.
“That is all I am going to tell you. The seven planes are to leave Green
Falls at ten o’clock Saturday morning.”
“Seven?” repeated Linda. “Who are the seven?”
Fumbling in his pocket, Ralph produced a typewritten list. He read it
aloud.
“1. Tom and Kitty Hulbert.
2. Dot Crowley and Jim Valier——”
“So you’re taking Jim after all!” interrupted Kit. “I thought you said
he was too lazy.”
Dot smiled.
“I guess I was only teasing,” she admitted.
“To continue,” said Ralph.
“3. Bert and Madge Keen.
4. Frank Lawlor and Sue Emery.
5. Joe Elliston and Sarah Wheeler——”
“Joe Elliston!” cried Linda. “Since when has he become a flyer?”
“He just received his private pilot’s license last week,” explained
Ralph. “He hasn’t a plane of his own, but Dad’s renting one for him.”
“I guess I’m taking a chance,” remarked Mr. Clavering. “But the plane’s
insured.”
“And you and I are the sixth and seventh, Linda,” concluded Ralph. “May
I ask who your passenger is to be?”
“If you tell me who yours is,” she countered.
“I am going alone.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m taking Harry.”
“Not Lord Dudley?” inquired the young man, with a gleam of jealousy.
“Oh, no. I promised Harry.”
“Lord Dudley thinks he’s going with you,” remarked Kitty. “He expects to
be back.”
“Then why doesn’t he take a plane and enter,” sneered Ralph. “I’ll bet
he’s not so much of a flyer as he makes out to be.”
“How you love him!” remarked Kitty, rising to greet Madge Keen, who was
the last of her guests to arrive.
“Now come to luncheon,” added the young hostess, with a nod to the maid
who was waiting for the signal. “You must all be starved after your
swims.”
A simple affair like this was always a party at Kitty Hulbert’s, for the
young matron had such beautiful things, such lovely flowers, such
trained servants that she enjoyed displaying them. The table was
arranged as elaborately as if a banquet were being served.
As usual, Linda found herself seated next to Ralph, and she began to
talk to him immediately, to take his mind away from the subject of Lord
Dudley.
“Has your autogiro come yet?” she inquired.
“No, but it’ll be here to-morrow. Want to go up on a test flight with
me, Linda?”
“Of course I do!” she replied eagerly. “I think it’s wonderful that
you’re getting it, before you even graduated from college.”
“Now Linda, don’t rub it in,” replied the young man. Although he should
have completed his course at Harvard the preceding June, there had been
a condition in mathematics, which kept him from getting his degree. His
father had wanted him to go to summer school, but with his usual lazy
attitude towards life, Ralph had refused. He was just as well satisfied
that he did have to return in the fall; it would be more fun to hang
around college than to buckle down to his father’s business.
“I didn’t want to be mean,” apologized Linda. “Only you know you weren’t
supposed to get a plane of your own till you graduated.”
She stopped talking; Kitty was taking a telegram from the maid, and
glancing at Linda. What was it? For her? News of Amy—or a message from
her father?
“This is for you, Linda,” said her hostess. “I do hope it isn’t bad
news.”
“Maybe it’s something about Amy,” she said expectantly, and all eyes
were on her as she slit open the envelope.
But as she read the message, a vivid blush spread over her face, and she
felt as if the others about the table must know what it contained.
“Am returning to-night with Tom for my answer. Love. Claude.”
“Why Linda! What’s happened?” demanded Dot, in surprise.
“Nothing, nothing,” she murmured, in confusion. “Nothing’s wrong.
It’s—just a personal message.”
“Not about Amy?”
“No.”
There was an embarrassed silence, and Kitty came to the rescue by
leading the conversation back to the subject of the treasure hunt.
“I’m allowed to tell you this much about it,” she added. “Everybody
flies to Lake Winnebago after the hunt for a big celebration. Dad’s
rented an entire Inn for the week-end, and all our parents are invited
to be chaperons.”
“And will the prize be awarded then?” asked Dot, more to keep the
conversation away from Linda than because she wanted to know.
“No. The lucky pilot finds the prize for himself—after following the
directions he receives.”
“You better say ‘she,’” remarked Ralph, “for I think it’s a great deal
more likely that Linda or Dot will get it, than any of us fellows.”
Linda forced a smile, but her mind was not on the conversation. Even the
treasure hunt had lost its interest; she longed to get home, where she
could be alone to think things out.
The party broke up at last, and she managed to get away without even an
explanation to Dot of the mysterious contents of the telegram.
She paused in the living room of her own bungalow only long enough to
give Mike O’Malley the facts and the names of the contestants in the
hunt, for the young man was returning to Grand Rapids. With a sigh of
relief, she rushed up to her own room, and locked the door, there to try
to come to some decision.
But the conclusion she came to was not at all to Lord Dudley’s liking,
as he learned to his dismay after supper, when he came over to take her
canoeing.
“My plan is this, Linda dear,” he said, as they pushed off from the
shore: “Take me as your passenger in the hunt on Saturday—win the prize,
as, of course, you will—and instead of returning, simply elope in the
autogiro. We can wire your aunt from the nearest city, wherever that
happens to be, when we are married. Doesn’t the romance of that appeal
to you?” he asked, rapturously.
Linda slowly shook her head.
“I couldn’t, Lord Dudley——” she began.
“Please call me ‘Claude!’” he pleaded.
She smiled.
“Well, then—Claude—I couldn’t. First of all, I’ve promised to take
Harriman Smith on the flight——”
“Shucks!” he interrupted, abandoning his usual dignity.
“And besides, I couldn’t be so mean to Aunt Emily. She would hate it—and
she’d have a right to. No, Claude, I’m not willing to marry you on so
short an acquaintance. A year from now—or possibly six months—I don’t
know.”
The man stopped paddling and regarded her helplessly.
“It’s because I’ve told you I’m only a poor man,” he said, thinking
immediately that money had something to do with her refusal. “And you’re
an heiress!”
Linda opened her eyes wide in amazement.
“What makes you think I’m an heiress, Lord Dudley?” she asked,
forgetting to use his first name. “Really—we’re not rich.”
“But the newspapers said you were. And that big prize you won, flying
the Atlantic alone——”
The man’s surprise was evidently as great as Linda’s.
“Yes, I have that—invested in bonds. But $25,000 isn’t a fortune. And I
haven’t anything else, except the money I sold my Bellanca for, which
Daddy put into a trust fund for me, in case his business fails. No, Lord
Dudley, I really expect to earn my own living.”
“I see,” he replied, and he could not keep the bitter disappointment out
of his tone. “That is why we had better not risk it?”
He seemed content to leave it at that, and Linda was silent. As a matter
of fact, money had never entered into her consideration of the marriage.
The idea of leaving her aunt, her friends—especially Harry and Dot, and
even Ralph—to go to a strange country had been a much more vital
drawback. Charming as he was, Lord Dudley was only a stranger.
“Let’s forget it, and talk about something else,” she suggested,
quietly. “Tell me why you don’t go into the treasure hunt yourself. It’s
going to be lots of fun.”
“I’m too busy,” he replied irritably, as one might speak to a child. “I
have to get back to Chicago early to-morrow morning.”
“In that case,” concluded Linda, “hadn’t we better paddle back home
now?”
Without any reply the Englishman turned the canoe about and silently
made for the shore. It was only half-past nine when he left her at the
steps of her bungalow, refusing her invitation to come in to see her
Aunt Emily.
“And that is the end of him,” Linda thought as she went quickly to bed,
little imagining that she would ever see him again.