_The_ CHERRY AMES _Stories_
Cherry Ames, Student Nurse
Cherry Ames, Senior Nurse
Cherry Ames, Army Nurse
Cherry Ames, Chief Nurse
Cherry Ames, Flight Nurse
Cherry Ames, Veterans’ Nurse
Cherry Ames, Private Duty Nurse
Cherry Ames, Visiting Nurse
Cherry Ames, Cruise Nurse
Cherry Ames at Spencer
Cherry Ames, Night Supervisor
Cherry Ames, Mountaineer Nurse
Cherry Ames, Clinic Nurse
Cherry Ames, Dude Ranch Nurse
Cherry Ames, Rest Home Nurse
Cherry Ames, Country Doctor’s Nurse
Cherry Ames, Boarding School Nurse
Cherry Ames, Department Store Nurse
Cherry Ames, Camp Nurse
Cherry Ames at Hilton Hospital
_The_ VICKI BARR _Flight Stewardess Series_
Silver Wings for Vicki
Vicki Finds the Answer
The Hidden Valley Mystery
The Secret of Magnolia Manor
The Clue of the Broken Blossom
Behind the White Veil
The Mystery at Hartwood House
Peril Over the Airport
The Mystery of the Vanishing Lady
The Search for the Missing Twin
The Ghost at the Waterfall
The Clue of the Gold Coin
The Silver Ring Mystery
[Illustration: _“And of course I kept the ring,” Lucy said softly_]
THE VICKI BARR FLIGHT STEWARDESS SERIES
_THE SILVER RING MYSTERY_
BY HELEN WELLS
[Illustration]
_GROSSET & DUNLAP_
PUBLISHERS
_New York_
© BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1960
_All Rights Reserved_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
_The author acknowledges with thanks
the generous co-operation of the Eastern
Region Stewardess Division of American
Airlines and Miss Mary Cody and Miss
Joan McGuckin, Supervisors of Stewardesses,
for the information given in the
preparation of this book._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I ABOARD THE ELECTRA 1
II VICKI MEETS THE BRYANTS 10
III THE STORY OF LUCY 20
IV A PUZZLING DISCOVERY 38
V THE GIRL IN THE PORTRAIT 50
VI VICKI SEARCHES 63
VII WHICH LUCY? 76
VIII A GAME OF WITS 95
IX SECRETS AT MIDNIGHT 112
X THE SIGNAL 134
XI ESCAPE 155
XII THE SILVER RINGS 159
CHAPTER I
_Aboard the Electra_
“That’s why,” Vicki explained to her family, “the Electra is so
challenging. Mary Carter warned us stewardesses, while she was
retraining us for the Electra, that this beauty flies so fast there’s
hardly time to get all our jobs done.”
“You mean it’s a hard assignment, don’t you?” said Ginny. She was
fourteen, and Vicki’s younger sister.
Their mother, Betty Barr, said, “I’m sure if I had your job on a
jet-prop--Or is it a jet? Which is it, Lewis?”
Professor Barr looked amused. “You know perfectly well. The all-jet
without propellers,” he said, “the Boeing 707, is used more for long
hauls--nonstop coast to coast, or across oceans. The Electra 188, with
jet engines _and_ propellers, is used mainly for intercity travel. I
trust I have the facts correct, Victoria.”
He smiled at Vicki who looked so much like him--fair hair, light-blue
eyes, the thoughtful Barr gaze--that it was a family joke.
“Well, anyhow,” said Vicki’s mother, “if _I_ had to get sixty-eight
passengers safely on, off, and fed, in two hours--Whew!”
“Fortunately I’m not going to have to do everything all by myself,”
Vicki answered. “Jean Cox and I will work the New York-Chicago-San
Francisco run together on the Electra.”
They were having a leisurely early lunch at home, at The Castle, before
Vicki started out for Chicago. It was Thursday, February twelfth,
Lincoln’s Birthday, an appropriate day to be in Lincoln’s state,
Illinois. The holiday explained why Mr. Barr was not teaching at nearby
State University that day. The holiday did _not_ account for Vicki’s
presence at home. As a flight stewardess, she often worked on holidays.
Vicki popped in and out of The Castle between assignments, whenever
she could. That wasn’t often. Perhaps now that Federal Airlines was
transferring her to the Electra and one of its transcontinental runs,
she might be lucky enough to see her family more often.
Her mother was wondering about the same thing. “Will your being based
in San Francisco mean that we won’t see much of you?”
Vicki went over her schedule again with her family. She and Jean Cox
would fly regularly with the same crew on the New York-Chicago-San
Francisco run, and return flight. They would have at least an
overnight stop in Chicago, and some rest days in New York and San
Francisco, “mostly in San Francisco where our plane will be serviced.”
Also, since passenger traffic was sometimes heavier in the East, Vicki
and Jean would occasionally fly the New York-Chicago and Chicago-New
York “turn-around” run. The fast cruising speed of the Electra--up to
five hundred miles per hour--made these schedules possible.
“Anyway, I’ll be in and out of Chicago,” Vicki told her family. “If I
haven’t time to run down to Fairview to see you, maybe you’ll drive up
to Chicago to see me?”
“I’ll come up,” her mother promised. “Now if you don’t start for
Chicago, young lady, the Electra may take off for New York without you.”
“Heaven forbid! I’ve been studying, practicing, and dreaming
jet-props!” So had her stewardess friends, so had pilots and
navigators--all of them had been training intensively for the new
aircraft at Federal Airlines’ schools in New York and Texas. “I
wouldn’t miss today for anything!”
Her family drove Vicki to the Fairview station in plenty of time for
the noon train to Chicago. Freckles, their spaniel, sensed Vicki’s
excitement and ran around the platform so wildly that for safety they
had to lock him in the car.
“Do you think, dear,” Mrs. Barr asked Vicki, “that you’ll meet any
especially interesting people on this new plane?”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”
They could hear the train coming. In another minute it pounded in
alongside the platform. Vicki’s mother and sister hugged her. “Good
luck! See you soon!” Mr. Barr picked up her overnight kit, helped her
aboard the train, and found her a seat. He bent over to kiss her.
“You look mighty little to be flying coast to coast, Victoria.”
“I feel like an eagle in the sky--you know, the words of the spiritual?
Dad! The train’s starting to move!”
He got off, and then her family was waving to her, and the train slid
quickly out of the station. She was on her way.
* * * * *
By three o’clock Vicki was in Chicago, and a little before four
she reached Midway Airport. That allowed comfortably for an hour’s
preflight ground duties before departure time at five P.M. In the
stewardesses’ lounge, Vicki changed into her blue uniform and cap, then
picked up her topcoat, purse, and overnight kit. She walked over to the
operations area where she initialed the crew check-in sheet, wrote in
the time, and noticed that Jean Cox had signed in five minutes ago.
Vicki found Captain Jordan in the busy meteorologist’s room. Jean was
there, too.
“Good afternoon, Captain Jordan--Jean. Reporting in for our very first
Electra flight!”
The pilot, a graying, solidly built man in blue uniform, smiled at
her and Jean grinned. Jean Cox looked like a good-natured imp, with
her cropped brown hair and twinkling eyes. Vicki knew that her fellow
stewardess, despite the elfish grin, was absolutely reliable--just as
their million-mile Captain Tom Jordan was a rock of strength. He told
his two stewardesses:
“Dan McGovern will be our copilot, and Chuck Smith our navigator. Good
men, both of them. I expect the five of us will work together fine as a
unit. Now, then--”
Captain Jordan gave Vicki and Jean the flight plan and briefed them
on the route and the flight conditions for this trip. Vicki knew that
the passengers who asked questions about the flight might include
anyone from a businessman who flew his own private plane to an aviation
engineer, so she listened carefully. The pilot planned to fly above the
day’s overcast, at an altitude of around 22,000 feet. “Our cruising
speed will be about 400 to 420 miles per hour,” he said.
Captain Jordan then handed Vicki and Jean the Stewardess Briefing
Book, which they quickly read and initialed. He answered a couple of
questions for them, discussed the ETA--estimated time of arrival--and
said, “See you aboard.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Jean, for both of them.
The two girls hurried back to the stewardesses’ lounge. There they
prepared the necessary report forms for the trip.
“Do I look all right, Vic?” Jean asked.
They both checked their appearance--a stewardess had to be perfectly
groomed and turned out--before leaving the operations area of the
building.
They hurried down a flight of stairs into Hangar One. In the vast high
shed, Captain Jordan had two men in blue uniform with him. The five of
them met beside a DC-7 which a repair crew was tuning up. The engines
roared; Captain Jordan had to shout.
“Miss Vicki Barr, Miss Jean Cox, this is our first officer, Dan
McGovern--”
The girls shook hands with their copilot, who was a large, quiet,
serious-looking man.
“--and our navigator, Chuck Smith.”
Chuck Smith was young, small, and wiry, with an ingratiating grin.
“See you aboard,” they all said.
The two stewardesses went outdoors onto the windy airfield. A little
distance away their immense silver Electra stood waiting for them. The
plane was 104 feet long with a 99-foot wing span. Its sheer size took
their breath away.
Vicki and Jean had forty minutes’ work to do before the passengers
came aboard. They had many things to check--it would be just too bad
if, once aloft, they discovered there was not enough water for making
coffee, or found the ventilation or heating system wasn’t functioning
perfectly. Hurrying up and down the long cabin aisle, they took pride
in their handsome Electra. Wide reclining chairs were upholstered in
blue, in beige, and a few in pumpkin color; the silver-beige walls
and curtains and coral-colored carpet harmonized. Vicki took special
satisfaction in the semicircular observation lounge with its wide
windows in the rear of the plane.
While Jean checked their service kit, all emergency equipment, cabin
and lavatory lights, seat belts, and a dozen or more other items,
Vicki was busy in the buffet area amidship. The two tall, wide,
metal buffets, facing each other, held drawers and compartments
for everything she and Jean would need to store, heat, and serve
sixty-eight dinners, and to brew gallons of fresh coffee. Vicki found
it a big job to check every item. Next, the caterer brought aboard
precooked dinners on individual trays, water, bags of coffee, and Vicki
checked all items off on her report form. She called through the open
service door to the commissary men on the ground:
“We’re short one dinner.” She saw the fueling crew hosing kerosene for
the plane’s four jet engines into the storage tanks inside the wings.
Daylight was fading; the first of their passengers were gathering
behind the wire gate, looking on.
Captain Jordan came aboard and went into the cockpit. In a minute or
two his copilot and navigator followed. The cockpit door stood open
until departure time; Vicki could see the complex instrument panel, and
the three airmen at work with their air maps and weather charts. She
turned on the music--a little early, but they all were keyed up about
this flight, and it helped to have lilting music fill the cabin.
Twenty minutes later Vicki and Jean were breathless but ready. They
repowdered their faces, and smiled expectantly at each other. Jean said:
“I must say you look poised and calm.”
“Calm? Who, me? Well, here’s wishing us good luck.”
Jean said a fervent amen, and then pressed down on the switch which
released a folding staircase from the plane to the ground. Slowly the
stairs for the passengers’ use dropped down into place. Then Jean
took up her post just inside the main entrance door, to greet their
passengers. Vicki stood smiling in the aft cabin to greet them and
assist them in getting seated.
Mothers with babies and small children straggled aboard first. Vicki
directed them to window seats in the quieter locations.
“Miss, will you be able to heat my baby’s bottle?” one mother asked her.
“Yes, I’ll be glad to.”
Vicki turned to a young couple who looked like honeymooners. Their
faces shone, and the girl wore flowers. “Welcome aboard,” Vicki said to
them, and nearly added, “Congratulations.” She suggested the forward
cabin compartment which was smaller and more private.
Most of the passengers, many of them businessmen with brief cases,
found seats by themselves in the large main cabin and, beyond the
buffet area, in the aft cabin. For several minutes the wide aisle
swarmed with people.
“Please be seated,” Vicki said to them as they passed her, “and then
I’ll hang up your coats.”
A white-haired, well-dressed couple came very slowly down the aisle.
They must be in their mid-sixties, Vicki thought. The elderly woman
looked pleasant, but the heavy-set man was scowling and grumbling about
something. He had a look of authority, of command.
Vicki went forward to help them. “Good afternoon. Would you like to sit
here?”
The man nodded curtly. He helped his wife into the window seat, then
placed her hatbox up on the luggage rack.
“If you don’t mind, sir,” said Vicki, “may I put that hatbox in the
closet? It might bounce off the rack during flight, and the sharp
corners might hurt somebody.”
The elderly man sat down as if he had not heard her. Then he remarked,
“The hatbox can stay where it is.”
Vicki gulped, and said with her sweetest smile, “Yes, of course, if you
prefer.” The man’s wife half smiled at her as if to say, “You mustn’t
mind.”