Real night hawks fly by day as well as by night. It is not unusual to
hear and see one as it circles over the city at near noon and calls its
loud “Kee-ou.” And at night many a tempting insect, fit for a night
hawk’s menu, flutters about the city lights. The name, then, which
Isabel had given to the aeroplane was not so inappropriate. “There’s the
Night Hawk,” she would say when the droning sound was heard. Whether
there was only one plane, which chose this neighborhood for its
manoeuvers, or several they did not know.
Greycliff girls were more busily occupied than ever, it seemed. The
seniors were practicing and learning parts for the senior play, planning
a Collegiate Field Meet with the juniors, preparing for final
examinations, paddling, rowing, having beach parties, and rushing out at
odd times to see the wood warblers, which were going through or stopping
to nest there.
One afternoon about four o’clock, Betty, Isabel and Pauline were over in
the meadows which stretched away from the foot of “high hill,” having
been lured there by an ever-disappearing warbler, which would sing its
little song and then fly to some farther perch. Now the song came from a
little clump of bushes and small trees in the center of an expanse of
meadow land.
“Oh, I wish it would be a chat,” sighed Isabel.
“It can’t be,” said Betty. “Its song is more like that of a myrtle
warbler.”
“If it is a myrtle warbler, after all this chase, I shall be all out of
patience,” declared Isabel. “Every other warbler I’ve seen is a myrtle
warbler or a chestnut-sided! Hilary has seen ten different kinds
already!”
“Listen, girls,” said Pauline, “there’s the plane right over us.”
Betty and Isabel looked up. “The Night Hawk,” said Isabel. “Why, there’s
something the matter; it’s coming down!”
“Perhaps it’s just landing,” suggested Betty. “This is a good place.”
Realizing that they might be in the way, they scurried for safety’s sake
to the little clump which they had been watching, and stood there to see
the aeroplane land.
“There are two men!” said Pauline in surprise, as the aviators climbed
out and one of them began to adjust something about the plane. “I’d like
to turn the field glasses that way. I wonder if I couldn’t be looking at
a meadow lark or something and accidentally swing the glasses around
toward them!”
“I fear that it would not be very polite,” said Betty, laughing, “and I
imagine that the better part of valor would be for us to start for the
Hall.”
But no sooner had Betty spoken than they observed the idle aviator in
the act of turning a field glass in their direction. A look seemed to
satisfy him, for he touched his helmet in salute, and came hurrying over
the grass toward them.
“What shall we do?” asked Betty.
“Wait and see who he is. He might be Donald.”
“No, it isn’t Donald at all,—it looks like,—it is—Oh, dear, help me to
be polite, girls!”
“How fortunate I am,” said Captain Holley, as he came up to the girls.
“My friend was taking me for my first ride in an aeroplane and something
about it was not just right. I was quite glad to reach _terra firma_ in
safety. I suppose this is part of a bird class?” The captain was
assuming all the dignity and patronage which as a teacher in a
neighboring school he could take.
“Yes, Captain Holley,” replied Isabel, with remarkable meekness. “We
were looking for a warbler and found a night hawk instead,—I have called
this plane that we hear occasionally the ‘night hawk’,” she added on
noticing that Captain Holley looked a little taken aback and startled.
“Is it an army plane?” she continued, not thinking that as an ‘enemy
alien’ he would not be permitted to ride in one.
“No, not exactly,” replied Captain Holley. “A friend of mine is
experimenting. By the way, Miss Betty, do you know whether our young
friend Donald Hilton has gone across yet?”
“No, I think not, but I think that he is to sail soon with one of the
convoys.”
“Do you know the vessel on which he will sail?” continued Captain Holley
pleasantly and with an air of slight preoccupation, as he looked back at
the plane and the busy aviator. Isabel nudged Betty at this juncture,
and replied for her:
“Oh, none of the boys know what vessel they are to go on or when, you
know.”
Captain Holley, with perfect poise, paid no attention to Isabel’s reply,
but looked inquiringly at the young lady whom he had addressed. Betty
hesitated. “I have not heard for some time, but he wrote that he was
hoping to go over before long. I know nothing definite.”
“Perhaps Donald will be back to see his friends before he goes,”
suggested Captain Holley.
“I do not know as to that,” said Betty. “When men are in the army their
time is not their own. Do not the people at Grant hear from their boys?”
“Sometimes,” assented Captain Holley.
The girls began to move off and Captain Holley managed to fall in by
Betty and to detain her a little, while the other girls had no choice
but to go in advance, though slowly.
“May I call some evening, Miss Betty?” asked Captain Holley.
“Certainly,” said Betty, who did not know how to get out of it, and felt
that for some unknown reason she must keep this young instructor in a
good humor.
“By the way,” said the young man, after he had thanked Betty and said
that he would be over some time soon, “I found something which
interested me very much the other day.” Unbuttoning his outer coat a
little way, he touched, upon the lapel of the coat beneath, a little
butterfly pin.
“O!” exclaimed Betty, “my butterfly pin!”
“But you have one,” smiled Captain Holley, buttoning his outer coat
again.
“I had to send for another. Oh, you _wouldn’t_ keep my pin, Captain
Holley! Why, it has my name on it, and everything. _Please!_”
But the captain merely smiled, made her a bow, and went back with rapid
steps to the aeroplane whose aviator was beckoning.
“What do you think, girls!” exclaimed Betty. “He has my butterfly pin
and wouldn’t give it to me!”
“Why, the _idea_!” exclaimed Pauline.
“That is certainly the limit!” said Isabel.
“And worst of all he was wearing it right on the lapel of his coat for
everybody to see, and some of the boys over there know all about our
Psyche Club.”
“I saw him fixing something before he started over toward us,” said
Pauline. “I imagine he was putting it there. I don’t think that for his
own sake he would wear it around there at Grant. He just wanted to tease
you. He likes you, Betty.”
“He takes a funny way to show it, then.”
“I nudged you, Betty,” said Isabel, “because I thought if you did know
anything about Donald’s sailing it would be better not to tell him. He
might possibly tell some spy,——”
“Or be one himself,” added Pauline.
“Oh, no,” said Betty kindly. “I guess he isn’t that bad, though he has
done some funny things.”
“What are you going to do about the pin?”
“When he comes over to call, I’ll try to persuade him to give it to me,
and if he doesn’t, I’ll ask Miss Randolph what to do, though I would
hate to have her know anything about it. Oh, I guess I can persuade him.
But he has gotten so flirtatious lately whenever I have seen him. At
that faculty party they had last week, when we girls served for them,
Captain Holley came over to me, and talked and talked.”
“What did he talk about, Betty?”
“Oh, he wanted to know if Louise was pleasant to the girls, and if they
like her,—that was a poser, but I got around it some way, and spoke of
that compliment Patty gave her on her Latin lessons. Then he talked
about me, always a pleasing subject, of course,” Betty’s dimples were in
evidence then. “And he talked about himself, also, hinted that his
family fortunes were going to change for the better, and asked me if I
liked to travel.”
“Betty, you mischief! You are making that up!”
“Indeed, Pauline, I’m not. He would look at me once in a while, to see
if I were taking it in. Of course, I was only seeing him out of the
corner of my eye, and would raise a bland countenance to him and ask him
some question about Grant, or something,—anything!”
“He is very handsome,” said Pauline, “has so much style, but it is hard
to be fair now to an enemy alien no matter how innocent he may be.”
“Style?” said Isabel, “I call it pomposity. Look out for him, Betty.”
“I will,” laughed Betty, “but I’ll have to be nice till I get my pin
back.”
“He found out whether you wrote to Donald or not, didn’t he?”
“Yes, Isabel, or rather that Donald wrote to me.”
“Well, the night hawk drove away the warblers from this spot and we’d
better go back. I think that the aviator of the night hawk is a skilled
gentleman. Look at the way it is performing up there.”
“Do you suppose that it really was Captain Holley’s first trip?”
“I doubt it, Pauline,” replied Isabel. “To change the subject, girls, do
you mind if Virgie and I come over tonight to talk with you girls about
the Inter-Society Debate? We want to have every point that can be
thought up for and against. Sometimes it helps to talk it over with
somebody who has not been thinking about the subject and has a different
viewpoint.”
“We’ll be delighted to have you come,” said Betty, “but we are not a bit
worried about the result of the contest, with you and Virgie on our
team. It is the first time that there have been two juniors with such
responsibility.”
“That is what worries us, for fear we won’t come up to expectations.”
“Have you gotten your main speeches ready?”
“Yes, and notes on all the points that we think they can bring up, ready
for rebuttal. We’ve even spouted against each other, taking the
different sides, either finding a weak point or defending a point. It is
lots of fun, but takes so much time from our lessons!”
“All for the glory of the Whittiers, though, and it will soon be over
with victory for us,—depend upon it.”
“I hope so, but Jane Mills will be fine, has so much self-confidence and
a splendid memory for what her opponents have said.”
“Your memory is just as good, and your enthusiasm, united with having
real arguments, will certainly carry the day for us. Hurrah for the
Whittiers!”
“There go Eloise and Hilary, comparing bird lists, I suspect,” said
Pauline. “Mercy, Cathalina, how you startled me!”
The girls were passing a tall hedge of bushes not far from the “pest
house” just as Cathalina and the slim Juliet slipped between bushes,
without seeing the girls, and crept along a step or two, on the bird
trail also.
“Cathalina, you looked just like an ovenbird then,” said Isabel,—“like
this,” and Isabel gave an exaggerated imitation of a stealthy walk.
“Anyone would know that you and the ovenbird belong to The Stealthy
Prowlers. Pauline scared your bird away, didn’t she?”
“That’s right, blame it on Pauline,” said that young lady.
“You were the one that called out, weren’t you?”
“I was, but then we were all hurrying along and talking. Cathalina, what
do you suppose is the latest adventure of your giddy room-mate?”
“I’m sure I couldn’t guess,” said Cathalina, tucking back a sunny lock
and brushing a dry leaf or two from her blue sweater. “What have you
been doing now, Betsey?”
“Nothing at all but trying to find a warbler.”
“She found a night hawk instead,” said Isabel. “A gay young Lochinvar
came out of the skies, and doubtless would have carried her off had it
not been for Pauline and me.”
“Listen to Isabel’s raving!” exclaimed Betty. “I’ll tell you how it was,
girls. It was an interesting adventure, but I was a passive observer.”
Betty’s account of the descending plane was a spirited one and the
climax thereof was the sight of the butterfly pin on the lapel of the
Captain’s coat.
“Oh, Betty!” exclaimed Lilian. “I don’t think that was a gentlemanly
thing to do at all. I wonder what will happen to you next!”