_On the Trail_
Although Linda and Louise were both greatly excited about their plan,
they decided to keep it a secret. Once they disclosed it, they would
probably meet with all sorts of opposition; Mr. Carlton would consider
it foolish, his sister and Mrs. Haydock, dangerous.
So Linda went home and opened her invitations, accepting those that
were scheduled for before Christmas, and took an active interest in
her aunt's preparations for the great day. There was a small afternoon
bridge at Sue's which she could attend, and a moonlight skating party
which Dot had planned for December twenty-third, and of course she
could go to the big Christmas Eve dance at the Country Club with Ralph
Clavering.
Nor was her father's misfortune mentioned again after her first
afternoon at home. Mr. Carlton had apparently made his decisions, and
wanted his daughter and his sister to forget his troubles in their
enjoyment of the holidays. Everything went on as it had at all other
Christmas seasons; even the Arrow remained unmolested in its hangar,
and Louise and Linda drove their cars.
It was on one of their shopping tours that they were able to take
the first step in carrying out their enterprise. On the twenty-third
of December they motored to Columbus and visited the city's largest
department store.
Going straight to the linen counter, Louise asked to see a handkerchief
like the one Linda was carrying, which she showed to the saleswoman.
"Seven dollars!" she repeated, as she examined it. "I'd have to put it
in my trousseau at that rate. And then suppose I never got married!"
"You will," returned Linda, calmly. "But even if you don't, you're sure
to be a bridesmaid some time. You could carry it then."
"Your bridesmaid?"
"If I ever need one. Or rather, my maid-of-honor."
The saleswoman coughed irritably; she wanted to hurry the purchase.
"It's the last one we have, Miss," she said. "So if you like it, you
had better take it."
Her words recalled to Louise the purpose of their visit.
"The last one? They're hard to get, then?" she inquired.
"Yes. They are made by French women, I believe--in a convent."
Louise suppressed a smile by raising her eyebrows.
"Imported?"
"I think so. We get them through a New York firm."
"What is the name of the firm?" asked Linda, innocently.
"That I don't know. But if you care to wait, I'll ask the buyer."
"Yes," agreed Louise. "I'll take the handkerchief if you find out the
name of the firm."
The saleswoman looked rather puzzled at their interest in the name,
but she thought they wanted to make sure their purchase was not an
imitation, and she hurried off to comply with the request. In a couple
of minutes she returned with the information.
"The name is Carwein," she said, as she handed Louise her package. "J.
W. Carwein & Co., Importers, New York City."
Linda carefully made note of the fact in her tiny shopping book.
"So our first stop is New York," remarked Louise, as they left the
store and went to the garage where they had parked her roadster. "Of
course we fly?"
"Naturally. We haven't time for any slower conveyance. Besides, we may
need the Arrow for further investigation."
"O. K. But Linda, have you considered snow and sleet? Remember, so far
we have had very little experience in cold weather."
"I realize all that. But I've been studying conditions about winter
flying, you know, and I have a lot of theory. Of course theory isn't
practice, as our friend Miss Hulbert would remind us."
"By the way, where is she? She just seems to have dropped out of
existence."
"Probably she has the Club's Moth somewhere, visiting her friends!"
replied Linda. "I can't say I miss her. Still, it is funny her brother
isn't around. He seemed so devoted to Kitty."
"Maybe he asked Kitty to marry him, and she refused."
"I don't think so. Kitty was so crazy about him at Thanksgiving."
"Well, you never can tell. But that isn't going to worry me," said the
other, laughing. "But here is an idea worth taxing your brain with,
Linda!"
"Yes."
"I think somebody ought to know just what we're doing, and where
we're going, so long as we don't want to give our parents the exact
information. It ought to be somebody who could fly to our rescue, if
necessary.... I am thinking of Ted Mackay."
Linda nodded, approvingly. Ted was so capable, so dependable, and she
knew he would risk his life if need be in an emergency to save them.
"You really think it's necessary?" she asked.
"Maybe not necessary, but prudent. Can't you map out our route to New
York tonight, and send him a special-delivery letter? Then we can wire
him from New York, if we decide to go on to Canada."
"Yes, that's a fine idea, Lou. Provided, of course, we get Aunt Emily's
permission. Daddy leaves Christmas night, and after that I'm under her
thumb."
"I'm going to spring it on my family after Christmas dinner," Louise
informed her. "Everybody's in such a good humor then, that they
probably won't refuse. Besides, we needn't mention Canada. Just say a
flying trip."
"I guess I'll do the same thing. And by the way, Lou, let's wire Nancy
Bancroft. You know she made us promise to stay with her whenever we
flew to New York."
"An excellent plan!" approved her chum, for she liked the girl--a
fellow student at the ground school. How much easier it would be to win
the older people's permission if they could visit a friend!
Linda, however, did not wish to tell her father about the flight, for
fear he might suspect what she was up to, and forbid her. Accordingly,
she waited until almost eleven o'clock on Christmas night to ask her
aunt's permission. They were together in the library, Linda idly gazing
at the brightly lighted tree, Miss Carlton looking over the pile of
cards on the table.
"Here's one from Beatrice Evanston," observed the latter. "Did you
send her one, Linda?"
"I don't believe I did," replied the girl absently. She tapped her
fingers nervously. It was difficult to begin.
"Aunt Emily!" she finally blurted out, "Lou and I are planning to go to
New York tomorrow, if you are willing."
"Why of course," replied the other, to her niece's surprise. "But
that's a long trip, and if it's shopping, you can do almost as well in
Columbus. Or is it a house-party?"
"Neither. Though we are going to stay all night with a girl from school
who lives there. But--we're flying."
"Flying? Oh, Linda, please don't! We're in for a snowstorm, I'm
perfectly sure. I do wish you would put that plane away for the winter!"
"I can't do that, Aunt Emily. A real pilot has to fly in all kinds
of weather. I really need the experience, and the Pursuit is in fine
shape."
Suddenly her aunt put down the cards she was fingering and frowned.
"You can't, dear! You'd miss the Evanstons' ball, Beatrice's coming-out
party. Why, it's the biggest thing in Spring City--after Kitty's!"
"But I had already declined that invitation," Linda stated coolly.
"You didn't? Oh, Linda, you wouldn't!"
"But I did. The day I got home. Louise and I both did. We wanted
to reserve this whole week--between Christmas and New Year's--for
ourselves, so we turned down everything."
Miss Carlton looked absolutely aghast.
"I never heard of anything so queer!" she exclaimed. "When you and
Louise see each other every day in the year!"
"But this is different. This is a lark together.... Oh, Auntie, please
understand! We loved this last week with you and Daddy and our friends,
but this is important to us now. You won't be hurt?"
She came over and sat on the arm of her aunt's chair, her eyes full of
pleading.
"Oh, all right, dear," agreed the older woman with resignation. "I
suppose it's about as useless to try to keep you out of the air as it
would be to keep Lindbergh.... I wish your mother hadn't named you
Linda!"
Linda laughed, but she knew that she had won, and, even at this late
hour she felt that she must call her chum to tell her the good news.
With sandwiches and hot coffee in their lunch box, and clothing enough
to last them for a week, the girls took off the following morning. The
air was crisp and cold, but it did not snow. Snug in their leather
coats and helmets, they felt ready for any weather. The engine was
running smoothly; it was a joy to fly, especially now that they could
take turns at the controls.
In her pocket Linda carried a map which Ted Mackay had sent to her in
reply to her letter, so that she found it easy to follow the course he
had indicated. Without the slightest deviation, they arrived at their
destination late that afternoon.
Leaving the plane to be housed and inspected, the girls made their way
across New York to a hotel in the center of the city, where they sent
wires to Ted and Miss Carlton and Mrs. Haydock, and changed into street
clothing. Then they looked up the firm of Carwein in the telephone book.
"But what shall we say to him?" asked Linda.
"I don't know," admitted Louise.
Impulsively as they had rushed into this plan, they realized that they
hadn't an idea how to proceed.
"Suppose he won't see us!" remarked Louise.
"He probably won't. If we tell the secretary it is private business,
she'll think we want to sell him life insurance, or something."
In that strange hotel room, as they sat looking blankly at each other,
they knew that they had not thought far enough. Suddenly they were both
tired and hungry.
"Let's don't do a thing this afternoon," suggested Louise. "Just
call up Nancy Bancroft, and say we'll be out there right away. She's
expecting us for dinner, anyhow."
Linda looked immensely relieved.
They found the girl's home without any difficulty, and were welcomed
like old friends. Nancy was one of a large family, and the house fairly
buzzed with gayety. There were three other guests besides themselves at
dinner, and afterwards a dozen more came in for games and for dancing.
It was informal and charming; both Linda and Louise would have liked
nothing better than to accept Mrs. Bancroft's invitation to stay until
school opened. But that would have meant relinquishing their plan, and
this they would not do.
In an interval between dances, Louise drew her chum into the
sitting-room where Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft were quietly reading, and
asked the former to give them some help on a mystery they were trying
to solve.
"Do you happen to know a man named J. W. Carwein--an importer and
wholesale dealer in fine linens?" she inquired.
"Why, yes, I know the firm," replied Mr. Bancroft. "I don't know him
personally. Why?"
"Well, we want to make an investigation--on the quiet, if possible,"
explained Louise. "We'd like to find out where and how he's getting
hold of a certain kind of very fine lace-work. He's practically smashed
Linda's father's business, and we're trying to discover how he did it."
"From his reputation, I don't believe Carwein goes in for underhand
dealing like that. If he is, he probably has had one put over on him.
He sells only the most expensive things, and his firm has always had a
good name. He'd probably tell you right out where he buys the goods."
"But how could we see him?" asked Linda. "Girls can't walk right into
an office and demand to see the president!"
Mr. Bancroft smiled.
"It's been done," he said. "But I don't think it's necessary. I believe
you can get the information you want from his secretary. It isn't
likely he'd have anything to hide."
Just as simple as that! The girls could hardly believe it was possible,
yet next morning, when they put the advice into effect, they found it
good.
The secretary informed them that the goods were _not_ imported, that
they were made right here in New York state. An agent by the name of
Hofstatter had come into the firm's offices and sold them, assuring Mr.
Carwein that they were made by a group of French women in the extreme
northern part, near the town of Plattsburg. He said he was a traveling
man, and that he would return in three months' time for more orders.
When Louise had repeated this conversation to Linda, they sat looking
at each other in despair.
"I'm afraid our trip's been in vain," moaned Louise. "Somebody is
imitating the work--somebody right here in New York. Of course they
can afford to sell it cheaper than your father--with no tax to pay!"
Linda's eyes narrowed. She was not convinced.
"There's something fishy about the whole thing!" she said. "Because
if this man Hofstatter didn't buy from the Convent, who did? They had
nothing left to sell to Daddy!"
"Maybe he lied to Carwein!" exclaimed Louise. "Anybody can see that my
handkerchief is exactly like yours."
"Yes! I think this man Hofstatter has smuggled the stuff into the
country, avoiding the tax. That's what I believe!"
Louise jumped up energetically. "Now our job is to trap Hofstatter!"
"You mean to try to find him in Plattsburg?"
"I don't believe he's there--Or any lace-makers, either. We might stop
and find out--and then go on to Montreal--to the Convent--and try to
catch him, or find out something about him there."
"He probably won't be back for a good while, if he has just bought out
the supply," remarked Linda, gloomily.
"True," admitted Louise. "But let's fly to Plattsburg anyhow, and
investigate. We've gotten along O.K. here in New York. If we can only
do as well there!"
"Well, it's only December twenty-seventh. We have plenty of time before
school starts again."
"Now to send Ted a night-letter!" Louise reminded her chum. "New York
to Plattsburg--Plattsburg to Montreal--Montreal to the Convent, with
the time figured as closely as possible, and a telegram to him each
night if we are safe."
"Righto! We'll stay all night at Plattsburg tonight. And we ought to be
at the Convent tomorrow--December twenty-eighth."