A FRIENDLY NOTE
“Well, what do you know about that?” Marshmallow ejaculated, as he
watched the red roadster vanish down the street. “I would have fixed his
old gas line if he hadn’t been in such a rush. The big grouch! I hope it
plugs up so badly he can’t keep going!”
“I don’t see what made him drive off in such a hurry,” Doris returned.
“We just asked him if he knew any one by the name of Gates and he looked
at us so suspiciously—or rather, I should say guardedly. I wish I knew
where Rumson was. I’m beginning to get interested.”
“Let’s look it up on the map,” Marshmallow suggested. “There’s one in the
house.”
They hurried up the walk toward the Mallow residence. It was a modern
brick English type structure, located on a shady side street of Chilton
in the suburbs of Plainfield, and was one of the most attractive houses
in the city. The grounds were beautifully landscaped with silver-tipped
evergreens, an abundance of rhododendrons and scarlet azaleas. The
interior of the house was equally inviting, for Mrs. Mallow was noted as
an excellent housekeeper.
Marshmallow found the road map in the desk and brought it out upon the
porch. Doris spread it out between them and they pored over it.
“Here it is,” Marshmallow declared after a little search. “It can’t be
more than fifty miles away. You take the Center Ridge road. It’s just a
small town. You’d have a heck of a summer there.”
“It’s out in the direction Dave lives,” Doris remarked absently.
“Oh, sure, I forgot that!” Marshmallow drawled teasingly. “You’ll have a
peach of a time.”
“And there’s an aviation field near Rumson,” Doris went on, scarcely
noticing what her companion had said.
“That means Dave can fly down to see you every day or so. No wonder girls
fall for fellows that are aviators!”
“Dave isn’t a full-fledged one yet,” Doris returned proudly, “but he’ll
soon finish his flying course and then he expects to get a license.”
“Transport or marriage?” Marshmallow grinned.
“Oh, go chase yourself!” Doris retorted slangily.
Marshmallow got up from the porch and lazily stretched himself.
“I think I will,” he returned. “I can smell cookies baking in the
kitchen, and I’ll just ankle around and coerce Mother into parting with a
few dozen.”
After Marshmallow had gone inside, Doris continued to study the map for
several minutes and then tossed it aside as she caught sight of her uncle
coming up the walk. Eagerly, she ran to meet him.
“What have you in those packages?” she demanded.
“Oh, something nice for you.”
As he smiled indulgently down upon her, Doris could not but think how
very fortunate she was to have such a generous and handsome uncle. Though
Wardell Force was of middle age, with hair fast turning gray, he walked
with the step of a boy and his energy was equal to that of any dozen
average men. His voice was low pitched, but of singular quality which
made one instinctively turn to listen when he spoke.
For many years he had conducted a successful drug store, but had retired
from active business to follow his hobby of rescue mission work, welfare
and charities. He was naturally a leader of men and in great demand to
head committees and speak at important gatherings. Doris was proud of his
ability to move large crowds with his magnetic voice. However, she
sometimes felt that he was so engrossed in helping others that he
neglected himself. Frequently, she had known him to go without a new suit
of clothes that he might give the money to some deserving poor family.
“Uncle Ward, you’re always buying things for me,” she told him as she
accepted the packages. “I don’t know why you’re so good to me.”
They sat down in the porch swing and Doris eagerly began to unwrap the
parcels.
“Candy!” she exclaimed in delight. “And novelty jewelry, too. I can’t
thank you enough!”
“Like the beads?” Uncle Ward asked. “I’m not much of a hand at picking
out trinkets for the ladies. Thought they might be a little too
conservative for a giddy red-head like you.”
“Pooh!” Doris scoffed. “I’m not giddy and you’re not conservative.”
Her uncle laughed and rumpled her curls. “Dory,” he began, the smile
fading, “I’m afraid I shall have to leave you alone for a few days each
week.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been named chairman of a committee to raise funds for fresh air
camps and the campaign will be carried on all summer. That means I must
go out of town frequently. We shall have to plan something nice for you
to do during my absence.”
“Kitty Norris wants me to go camping with her. May I?”
A shadow passed over Wardell Force’s face.
“I have been intending to talk to you about the state of your finances
for some time,” he said slowly, without answering her question.
Thoughtfully he stroked his hair, avoiding his niece’s eyes. How he hated
to inform her that her funds were running low and that a camping trip was
therefore inadvisable! Somehow, girls seemed to need a great deal of
money.
“Don’t look so worried, Uncle Ward,” Doris said lightly, observing his
preoccupation, and shrewdly guessing the thoughts which were passing
through his mind. “I have news for you.”
Before she could tell him of the letter she had received from the Misses
Gates, there was an unexpected interruption. Jake, the hired man whom
Wardell Force had rescued from the slums many years before, came rushing
up to the porch.
“There’s a plane going over,” he told Doris with a grin. “I’ll bet two
cents it’s that boy friend of yours!”
For the first time, Doris became aware of the low hum of an airplane
motor, and with her uncle following at a more dignified pace, rushed out
into the yard.
“It _is_ Dave!” she cried in delight, as she observed a bright red star
on either wing of a monoplane which was heading directly toward the
Mallow residence.
The plane rapidly approached, swinging so low that the observers on the
ground could plainly see the intrepid young flier in the cockpit.
“You don’t suppose he can be having engine trouble?” Doris murmured
anxiously. “I never saw him fly at such a low altitude before! Oh, I wish
he wouldn’t take such risks!”
Her alarm was greater than that of either Jake or her uncle, but then,
their interest in David Chamberlin was more impersonal. Doris had known
the young aviator for several years and was well aware that his liking
for her had steadily grown. However, since she was but sixteen and Dave
only a few years older, her uncle refused to consider the affair as a
serious one.
Wardell Force had looked after Doris with the interest and kindness of a
father, and, as Mrs. Mallow frequently remarked, he had done very well
for a bachelor. He had sent her to Barry Manor, a good boarding school,
and had given her training by the best vocal teachers in the city. In
some ways, Mr. Force had been overindulgent and he found it increasingly
difficult to acquaint his niece with the stern fact that the few thousand
dollars she had inherited were fast dwindling away.
Doris and her uncle made their home with Mrs. Thomas Mallow, renting a
lovely upstairs suite, consisting of two bedrooms, bath and den. Mrs.
Mallow, a plump and jolly widow noted for her ability as a cook, gave
them their meals and was nearly as fond of Doris as she was of her own
son. Doris was likewise a favorite of Jake, the hired man, though his
devotion was expressed only by the way his eyes followed her whenever she
was near. Wardell Force had told her little of what he knew concerning
the man’s past, and since he had come to work at the Mallow residence he
had been addressed only by the name of “Jake.” Though Doris was much too
tactful to question him outright, she often had provided opportunity for
him to tell the story of his life, but he had always seemed unwilling to
offer any information.
“Oh, I do wish Dave wouldn’t try any stunts!” Doris exclaimed as she
watched the monoplane slowly circle above the Mallow residence. “Why,
he’s dropped something!”
As she spoke, she saw a piece of weighted paper fall from the plane. It
struck the sidewalk a short distance away and before she could recover
from her surprise, Jake had rushed to pick it up.
“Here you are, Miss Doris,” he said, handing it to her. “I ’spects it’s a
love note.”
“If it is, it’s certainly a new way to get one!” Doris laughed.
Trying not to show her excitement, she quickly scanned the message. It
read:
“Will stop in Saturday morning and take you to the big aviation meet in
my roadster. Dave.”
The monoplane continued to circle at a low altitude and Doris, upon
reading the note, promptly waved her handkerchief in token of assent. She
watched until the plane had vanished toward the eastern horizon.
“Well, what was the meaning of all that pantomime?” Uncle Ward asked with
an amused twinkle.
“Dave’s going to stop for me Saturday and take me to the aviation meet in
his roadster. I’m thrilled to death! I was hoping he’d ask me, but I was
afraid he wouldn’t!”
“So? Well, I’m glad he said roadster and not airplane,” Wardell Force
grunted. “I don’t want you to go flying around with any student aviator.”
“Dave is nearly through his course now, Uncle Ward, and he’s considered
the best of all those who are studying at the field.”
“That’s fine. And now that the excitement is over, we can get back to
that discussion we were having. Perhaps we had better step into the den.”
Soberly, Doris followed her uncle into the house. She realized that the
discussion was to center about money, and hoped that nothing would
interfere with her plan to spend the summer with Kitty. Once they were
settled in the comfortable den, she showed him the letter she had
received from her chum.
“It shouldn’t cost very much just to spend a few weeks at a camp,” she
declared. “I’m sure it isn’t a very expensive one.”
Wardell Force did not reply immediately, but sat looking at the rug. At
last he said:
“I don’t like to deny you anything, Doris, but I’m afraid you don’t
understand just how matters stand. Your carfare to this camp would cost
considerable and of course you would need clothes.”
“Just knickers and sport things.”
“But they all cost money, Doris—a great deal more than you realize.”
“I thought my inheritance would cover everything.”
“Your money has been going very fast, my dear,” her uncle told her
gently. “Your schooling has cost a great deal, and only today I received
a letter saying that the tuition was to be doubled. Your music, too, has
made deep inroads into your little fortune.”
“I had no idea it was as bad as that,” Doris said soberly. “I suppose I
could give up boarding school and my music lessons—though I’d rather go
to work than stop my singing.”
“I can’t let you give up your school or your music either, Dory. And I
frankly admit, I hate to see you go into an office. You are much too
young. You should have your good times now.”
“But if I haven’t any money—”
“You still have some, Dory. I am only telling you this, that you will
understand the situation and be as careful of expenses as you can.”
“I will,” Doris promised, “and I’ll start by giving up that camping trip.
I suppose, though, I won’t get to see Kitty this summer—unless—”
She broke off and her face lighted up.
“I forgot the letter I received from the Misses Gates!” she finished.
“Perhaps they offer the solution to all my troubles!”