Gypsies of the Air
By
Bess Moyer
The Girl Flyer Series
THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY
CHICAGO
Copyright, 1932
The Goldsmith Publishing Company
Made in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
I. The _Skybird_ Hops Off
II. Thwarted Plans
III. _Skybird_ to the Rescue
IV. Plots and Counter-Plots
V. Captives in the Old Fort
VI. The Menacing Stranger
VII. A Perilous Take-Off
VIII. Happy Landing
CHAPTER I
The _Skybird_ Hops Off
With a loud sputtering roar, something like Terry Mapes’ own feelings
at that moment, _Skybird_, her little blue-and-gold airplane sprang
forward and taxied over the flying field, taking the air gracefully as
a leaping horse, under the guidance of its youthful pilot.
Terry Mapes was working off steam. Half angry, half frightened, the
girl knew that a flight in her plane was the quickest way to get hold
of her nerves and make her head clear for thinking what was to be
done.
“Those boys!” she muttered between close-pressed lips. “What’s
happened to them _now_? Starting out for a flight to Paris and not
even getting to Newfoundland!”
Over and over again that terrifying report, “Missing,” kept ringing in
her ears. Allan and Syd missing! She could picture a crack-up easily
for the two boys. While they knew how to handle their planes
skilfully, they were inclined to be reckless and were always taking
chances.
Pulling back on the stick, Terry sent the plane zooming, one thousand
feet, two thousand! Far beneath her she could see her father’s flying
field at Elmwood, and from that distance it looked as if the hangars
had been flattened against the ground. Beyond was the Sound, a broad
strip of water with what appeared to be toy boats on its glassy smooth
surface.
Far to the right were estates, wooded tracts of land, small towns and
villages connected by tiny thread-like highways to the large city in
the distance.
Terry loved to fly. She was never so happy as when she was zooming to
a lofty height. Her brown eyes were glowing, her ivory skin was
flushed to rose as she handled the controls of her little plane. Terry
claimed that the higher she flew above the earth, the better she could
think and plan. But today Terry’s brain was in a whirl. She could
think of a dozen different kinds of accidents, any one of which might
have happened to the boys.
Allan Graham and Syd Ames had started out on the first lap of their
transatlantic flight. They had been reported all along the route until
well over the Canadian border. Then they had disappeared, been
swallowed up.
And at Dick Mapes Flying Field, their friends anxiously awaited word.
Twelve hours overdue at Harbor Grace!
Then it was that Terry took her plane into the clouds to think out a
way to help. What could she do?
Her white face told how much she cared for those two young friends,
her father’s first student flyers. At the thought that there might be
two more names added to the long list of missing aviators, Terry’s
heart sank with fear. She could see Allan’s tall figure, his clear
blue eyes and his thatch of unruly blond hair. Terry never knew how
dear Allan was to her until that report had come, “Missing!” And Syd
Ames had been like a brother to her. She liked this boy with the
laughing brown eyes. His fun-loving disposition had saved them from
utter despair at times, when everything was going wrong. A groan
escaped Terry’s lips as she thought of these boys who might at that
very moment be lying crushed and needing help.
But Terry had not come aloft to moan over the imaginary fate of her
friends. She knew they must have had an accident or they would have
reached the airport long before this. They might be injured.
What could she do?
What would her father, Dick Mapes, have done if he had not been
crippled and left helpless by a fall in his plane, two years ago?
“Why Dad would go out and find them!” she exclaimed to herself. “And
that’s what I’ll do. I’ll go to Newfoundland and look for them.”
This decision was natural for the daughter of a flyer. And the idea
once fixed in her mind Terry did not waste time in further plans. She
put her plane into a fast dive. The girl found it hard to come down in
her usual way. She wanted to do reckless things. Take chances! But
Terry was well trained by her father. She took the long dive with open
throttle. She straightened out, banked and spiralled but not for a
second did she take a chance with her plane. She would need _Skybird_
to help her in her search.
As she headed toward the flying field she remembered with satisfaction
that she had just overhauled her plane the previous day. It seemed
that, even then, she must have known that it would be needed. As soon
as she put in a supply of gas and oil, it would be ready for the long
trip north.
Terry set her plane down neatly on the field in front of the hangar.
_Skybird_ settled down like a great seagull with outspread wings.
Stepping lightly over the cowling, Terry ran to the veranda of the
cottage adjoining the flying field where Dick Mapes sat in a wheel
chair. His face was deathly pale, stern and drawn with suffering. His
hands opened and then clutched at the arms of his chair, nervously.
“Dad, dear,” said Terry, quietly yet with determination in her voice.
“I’m starting out to find the boys.”
Dick Mapes looked into his daughter’s face. He seemed to be measuring
the girl, deciding whether she was equal to the task ahead of her.
What he saw assured him that Terry would not fail. He could trust her
not to take big chances. He held out his hand.
“When do you start?” he asked.
“Within an hour!” said Terry simply. “_Skybird_ is in shape, I’ve been
all over her!”
The father nodded his head. Between him and Terry there was no need
for many words. They understood each other.
“I wish to goodness Bud Hyslop hadn’t chosen this time to go off on a
vacation,” exploded Terry, her big brown eyes snapping. “When we want
that fellow around, he’s never here, and when we don’t want him he
sticks like a burr. He isn’t much good at any time but now he could
take care of the field while I’m away. I hate to leave you alone,
Dad.”
“Don’t worry about me, Terry.” Dick put out his hand and let it rest
for a moment on his daughter’s curly brown locks. “The boys’ safety is
more important than business. If they are in trouble, they’ll need us.
Why, oh why do I have to be tied to this chair when...!”
“Now Dad, just you thank your stars that you are getting well! Six
months ago it looked pretty hopeless. Now the doctor says that inside
of a year you can walk and be back in the flying game again. Think of
that, Dad! Won’t that be fine?”
“Yes, I know, Terry, but it’s hard to sit here, just a useless lump,
when Allan and Syd are out somewhere....”
“I’m on my way, Dad. I’ll find them somehow. Probably they have been
forced down with engine trouble. You know those boys are frightfully
reckless.”
“Yes, that’s what makes me so worried about them. I never could teach
them to be cautious. If it were you, Terry, I would feel almost
certain that you’d find a way out of your trouble.”
“Thanks, Dad!” The girl stooped and kissed her father tenderly. Then
with a smile she ran into the house.
While Dick assented to Terry’s plan with very few words, her mother
wanted long explanations. Where and how was Terry to carry out her
plans? What would she do if she found the boys injured? How would she
get them home?
“I don’t know yet,” replied Terry. “Ask Dad, he’ll explain
everything!” Terry hurried to the stairway and called, “Prim, come
here. Get into your flying togs. Pack food and water and the first-aid
outfit. We are going to find Allan and Syd and they may be in bad
shape.”
Terry delivered orders like a general and Prim, her twin sister obeyed
like a private in the ranks. She did not stop to ask questions.
Terry’s commands were always important—or interesting.
The two girls were opposites. Terry was tall for her age, slightly
built, high-strung and nervous, while Prim was inclined to be plump
and rosy. Her blond hair was cut short to her head. She had none of
the fire of Terry’s disposition. She sort of balanced her sister’s
temper, for Prim was easy-going, practical and diplomatic. She could
get along with any one, while Terry with her quick tongue was always
getting into trouble and making enemies. The two sisters were chums.
They loved to be together. They liked to do the same things, and while
Prim would never make the expert flier her sister was, she enjoyed the
sport and was always ready to follow Terry’s lead.
Terry’s decision to go north and hunt for the boys did not come as a
surprise to Prim. She had been half expecting it. Her whole heart was
crying out with the need to do something for these boys whom they
loved, and now she wondered why Terry had not thought of it at once.
Prim needed no instructions regarding her part of the work to be done.
A thermos bottle of hot coffee, bandages and food were packed into the
plane, then Prim ran to get into her flying outfit. It was a jaunty
flying suit, a white fleece-lined jacket, and baggy breeches, high
white boots and helmet to match. Prim was fond of dress and her white
togs were always in order. Terry had chosen a more practical outfit of
brown leather. It was trim and smart and Terry carried it well. She
had style.
Terry had left the details of supplies to Prim, knowing that her
sister’s part would be done well. She hurriedly examined her plane,
looked over the instrument board to see that everything was in order,
tested the engine, took on a supply of gas and oil and in less than an
hour was all set and ready to go.
Alice Mapes could never see her two daughters take-off without a
feeling of dread. She had none of the confidence of the flyer.
Although she had flown with her husband ever since her marriage she
could never be persuaded to take the controls herself and learn to
fly.
“I’m just an old-fashioned housewife and why try to make me into
anything else?” she pleaded with Dick when he tried to urge her. The
fearlessness of her modern daughters frightened her. She was always
afraid when she was in the air, much preferring to stay on the ground.
Terry saw her look of anxiety now.
“Come on, Mother. Send us away with a smile. I know you’re going to
wish us luck, but we need your confidence as well. We’re perfectly
safe. And remember, if there is any message for us, telegraph to
Harbor Grace.”
With a smile and a wave of her hand, Terry stepped into the plane.
Prim spun the propellor and the motor roared. With a bound Prim jumped
into the rear cockpit.
_Skybird_ headed into the wind as she taxied along the field and
Terry, pulling back gently on the stick, sent the little plane into
the air. She circled the field twice for goodbye, then she began to
climb and took her course northward.
Alice Mapes slipped into the chair beside her husband. Her face was
white. Her hands were trembling.
“Do you suppose it’s all right for them to go?” the mother asked, her
voice husky with anxiety.
“I’d trust Terry anywhere in a plane,” Dick Mapes answered
confidently. “And if anyone can find the boys, she can.”
Long after _Skybird_ had disappeared, Alice and Dick Mapes sat gazing
into the clouds, as if they could follow their daughters all the way
to their journey’s end.
Dick was calm and hopeful and patted his wife’s hand reassuringly as
she voiced her fears.
If the father could have foreseen the danger and treachery that was
awaiting the girls, he might not have been so serenely confident of
their success.