AN AVIATION MEET
By Saturday, when David Chamberlin called to take Doris to the aviation
meet, her financial troubles were temporarily forgotten. She was not
given to worrying unnecessarily, and on this day nothing could have
interfered with her fun.
As Doris stepped into the trim little roadster, Dave cast her an admiring
glance, noting that she was dressed in a white sports costume which set
off her red hair to startling advantage. They made an excellent pair.
Dave was dark, tall, straight as a cadet, and considered handsome by all
of Doris’s friends.
“You gave me a dreadful fright when you flew so low over our house,”
Doris told him as they drove swiftly toward the aviation field, which was
located some distance from Chilton.
“Did I? Sorry, but I just had to drop that note.” Dave smiled down upon
her. “Anyway, you forget that I’m getting to be an expert at handling the
joy-stick. I want to take you up one of these days.”
“Oh, I’m crazy to fly with you! Perhaps Uncle Ward won’t let me, though.”
“We can talk him around to it.”
As they approached the aviation field, they were forced to proceed at a
slow rate, for the highway was jammed with cars.
Entering the gateway, they parked the roadster and then wandered about
the field, inspecting the various planes. Dave explained a great deal
about the distinguishing characteristics of the various models and
introduced her to a number of aviators with whom he was acquainted. As
the time approached for the meet to begin, they sought their seats in the
improvised grandstand.
Presently the master of ceremonies announced through the loud speakers
that the opening event would be an inside loop contest. A hush of
expectancy fell over the crowd as two planes zoomed up from the field and
immediately began to cut vertical circles in the sky.
“It looks so easy, doesn’t it?” Doris murmured.
“Yes, but believe me, it isn’t!” Dave assured her, without taking his
eyes from the two planes. “If I could only do that!”
“I’m just as glad you can’t, Dave. I’d be afraid to have you.”
Following the inside loop contest, a squadron of army planes took to the
air and thrilled the spectators with a spectacular exhibition of
formation flying. Then came parachute jumping, dead-stick landings, and
exciting races. Doris found it impossible to restrain her excitement as
the planes rounded the pylons, frequently banking to such an angle that
it seemed disaster could not be avoided.
As a climax to the meet the master of ceremonies announced that an
intrepid young flier would entertain the crowd with daring stunts. Doris
and Dave saw a brilliant red monoplane take off from the field and climb
to an altitude of several thousand feet. Then, in quick succession, the
red plane went through barrel-rolls, loops, dives, falling leaves, and
wing-overs.
“That boy’s good!” Dave exclaimed in admiration.
The words were scarcely spoken when Doris gave a startled little cry. It
had seemed to her that, as the monoplane came out of a loop, something
was wrong. The plane seemed to waver, and then, to Doris’s terror, shot
down in a tailspin.
“It’s all in the stunt,” Dave assured her. “The pilot’s just—” he broke
off and a look of horror came into his own eyes as he saw that the man at
the stick was fighting desperately for control.
The spectators, suddenly made aware of the impending disaster, sprang as
one man to their feet and cried out in fright. Women and children covered
their faces.
The plucky aviator had not given up. Struggling frantically at the
controls he refused to take to his parachute and, only a short distance
above the field, brought the plane out of the spin. However, he had scant
time to alter the course, and to those on the ground it was apparent that
in landing he would overshoot the designated area, which was roped off.
Those who were not in the grandstand scattered in all directions, and
timid women screamed in terror. Doris and Dave had instinctively arisen,
but no sound escaped them. It appeared almost certain that the plane
would hit a group of parked cars near the fence.
Just at the critical moment, however, the pilot managed to turn the
monoplane enough to miss the row of cars. As a wild cheer of admiration
and relief arose from the spectators, he brought the craft to rest
without mishap.
Instantly, a crowd of people swarmed about the plane. The pilot tried to
keep them back, but it appeared almost certain that before policemen
could reach the scene, someone would be pushed into the whirling
propeller.
Doris and Dave were seated not far from where the mishap had occurred,
and now, with the intention of trying to help, they rushed toward the
plane. Before they could reach the spot, the pilot had switched off the
engine. The crowd continued to press about the plane, careless of the
damage they might do to wings or struts.
“Get back!” Dave shouted, helping the policemen and some mechanics to
control the throng.
Nearly everyone goodnaturedly backed away from the monoplane, but one man
refused to budge.
“That plane nearly struck my car!” he shouted angrily. “Let me get at
that pilot! I’ll show him a thing or two!”
Startled, Doris turned to look at the man and was astonished to see that
it was the driver who had been stalled in front of the Mallow residence
only a few days before.
“Say, who does that fellow think he is, anyway?” Dave murmured
impatiently. “His old car wasn’t touched! If that pilot hadn’t done some
quick thinking, someone would have been killed sure!”
They watched as a policeman remonstrated with him, and were disgusted at
his sullen remarks. After he had vented his spite sufficiently, he sprang
into his roadster and backed out of the parking place so rapidly that
women and children were forced to scurry to escape the wheels.
“He didn’t care much whether he struck anyone or not!” Doris declared.
“That man is positively vicious.”
After the excitement had died down, she and Dave went to their own
roadster. There was a bad traffic jam and it was some time before they
reached the gate.
“It certainly was a thrilling day,” Doris told her friend when they were
on the highway. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
“Glad you liked it,” Dave returned. “Next year I hope to take part
myself.”
“The best part of it was that no one was injured,” Doris continued. “It
would have ruined the entire meet if there had been a serious accident
there at the last.”
They drove along in silence for some time, but as they approached the
Mallow residence, she broached the subject which had been troubling her.
“Dave, you’ve frequently been to Rumson, haven’t you?” she began
indirectly.
“Sure, why?”
“I’ve been invited to visit there this summer. Do you think I’d like it?”
“Well, it’s a pretty decent town for its size. Whom are you visiting?”
“Two sisters by the name of Gates. Azalea and Iris Gates. Did you ever
hear of them?”
“Gates? Let me think. Oh, sure, I remember their place. It’s right at the
edge of town.”
“What kind of a house have they?”
“Oh, it’s as big as a barn. Old and rambling. It seems to be a sort of
mysterious place.”
“Mysterious?”
“I don’t know anything about it myself, except that I’ve heard folks say
there is something queer about it. The neighbors call it ‘Locked Gates.’”
“Why that name?”
“I suppose it’s because the double front gates are always kept locked. A
fence surrounds the garden, and vines grow so thick on it you can’t get a
glimpse inside. Take my advice, Doris, and don’t go there for a visit. It
would give you the creeps!”