CHAPTER III
_Kidnapped_
As there was no particular hurry about the trip South--it was onlyJune twentieth--Linda decided to go slowly and to stop often. What amarvelous way to see the country, at the most beautiful time of theyear! In an autogiro the flight would never become monotonous, for shecould fly low enough to watch the landscape.
Ohio--Kentucky--Tennessee--Georgia! Each day she could travel through adifferent state, putting up each night at a hotel. Fortunately her AuntEmily had given up worrying about her staying alone in strange cities.For Linda had already proved herself capable of taking care of herself.
"It is because Linda is always so dignified," Mr. Carlton had remarkedto his sister. "The girls who make chance acquaintances, and permitfamiliarities are usually looking for it. Linda's mind is on herplane--on her navigation--and she is too absorbed to be bothered. Ithink we are safe, Emily, in trusting her."
"I suppose so," Miss Carlton had agreed. "Though of course she'llalways be a little girl to me."
The day after the wedding was warm and the skies were clear; theLadybug was in perfect condition, and her forty gallon tank was filledwith gasoline, so Linda decided to carry out her plan. While her AuntEmily packed her lunch basket and a box with an emergency supply offood, the girl called Miss Hawkins on the telephone as she had promised.
"But don't put it into the paper until after I start," begged Linda. "Ialways like to slip off quietly, without any fuss."
"I'll save it for the evening editions," agreed the reporter. "And thenyou'll be well on your way.... And, thank you again, Miss Carlton."
An hour later she bade her aunt good-by, and was off. Heading her planesouth-west, she would avoid the mountains in Kentucky, and pass overthe blue-grass region, of which she had so often read. It was an idealday for a flight, and her heart beat with the same exultation she hadalways felt when she was in the air; there was no feeling to comparewith it on earth. Someone had said it was like being in love--but LindaCarlton had never been in love herself.
For several hours this sense of joy possessed her; then, as noontimecame, and she landed to eat her lunch, she suddenly grew lonely. Ifonly Louise were with her! She sighed as she thought that from now onshe would probably be traveling alone.
It grew hotter in the afternoon as she progressed farther south, buther engine was functioning so beautifully that she hated to stop. Thenthe sun went down, and the coolness was so delightful after the heatthat she continued on her course longer than she had planned, and didnot land until she had crossed the border into Tennessee. There shefollowed a beacon light that led to an airport, and brought the Ladybugdown to earth.
No sooner had she brought the autogiro to a stop than a group ofcurious people surrounded her.
"What do you-all call this?" drawled a big, good-natured looking man,with the typical Southern accent. "It's a new one on me."
Linda smiled and explained, asking that the autogiro be housed for thenight, and inquired her way to the hotel.
"The hotel ain't so good," replied the man. "But I can direct you to afine boarding-house."
Everybody that Linda met in this little town was kindness itself. Shefound herself in a pleasant home, with a marvelous supper of realold-fashioned Southern cooking, all ready for her. It appeared to bethe custom to eat late in the South; no one thought it strange that sheshould want her supper at nine o'clock.
These good people's hospitality only served to strengthen herconfidence in the fact that she was safe in traveling alone. For thisreason the shock was all the greater for her when that trust was sorudely shaken later on during the trip.
Linda liked the town so well that she decided to remain a day, and goover her Ladybug herself. For, she argued sensibly, if no one there hadever heard of an autogiro before, it stood to reason that there wouldbe little chance of a competent inspection by anyone but herself.
Although Miss Hawkins, the reporter, had published the facts concerningher trip that evening, the news had not reached this town in Tennesseeimmediately. It was not until the next day that the story wasreprinted, and someone discovered that this stranger in the autogirowho was visiting them was Linda Carlton of international fame. Then thenews spread like wild-fire about the town, and the band was gotten outto give the girl a royal welcome.
It was hardly necessary, with all this celebration, to wire her aunt ofher safe arrival in Tennessee; nevertheless Linda did so, as she hadpromised when she left home.
Her next day's journey brought her across Tennessee, over the mountainswhere she had a chance to test her plane's climbing ability, and intoGeorgia. Here again she was received with hospitality. It seemed almostas if she were making a "good-will" flight, so delighted were thepeople to greet her and make her at home.
A long flight lay ahead of her--across Georgia, the largest state inthe southeast. Over the mountains in the northern part, across cottonand rice and sweet-potato plantations, towards the coast. The weatherwas hot and dry; she grew tired and thirsty, and the thought of herfriends, enjoying the cool breezes at Green Falls made her envious fora while. But she carried plenty of water in her thermos flasks, and shereminded herself that she was having a more thrilling experience thanthey could possibly have. Tonight she could rest--and sleep.
Her head ached and her body was weary, as she looked at her map andtried to find out just where she was from the land-marks. Dismaytook hold of her as she realized that she must have gone off of hercourse--beyond her destination. The ground below appeared marshy, inmany spots entirely covered with water, in which water-lilies andrushes grew in abundance. Where could she possibly be?
Panic seized her as she realized that this was no place to land. Evenan autogiro couldn't come down in a swamp. She circled around, and wentback. If the light only held out until she reached some sort of level,hard ground!
She thought of her flight over the ocean, when she had been soabsolutely alone, and she felt the same desolation, the same fierceterror. Where was she? Where was she going? Wild-eyed, she studied hermap.
Then she located herself. This must be the Okefenokee Swamp, in thesoutheastern part of Georgia. That lonely, forsaken land, some parts ofwhich had never been penetrated by a white man! Treacherous, dangerousground, which would mean certain death if she attempted to land! Milesand miles of desolation, that only an Indian could safely explore!
There was nothing to do but head the plane towards the west, in hopeof passing over the swamp. The sun had set, and darkness was comingon, but Linda could still see the ground beneath her. The water grewscarcer, and trees--pine and cypress--here and there dotted the land.But still the earth looked marshy, too treacherous for a landing.
A terrifying thought seized her when she remembered that she had notfilled her gasoline tank that morning. Glancing at the indicator, shesaw that she had only three gallons left. Would that be enough to takeher out of this "trembling land," which was the meaning of the Indianword, "Okefenokee"?
It was like a horrible night-mare, watching the decreasing gasolinesupply, the fading light, and the trees and the swamp beneath her. Herbreath came in gasps; the idea of death in a swamp was more horriblethan that of drowning in the middle of the Atlantic, for the formerwould be a lingering torture.
But at last to her delight she saw the trees widen, and a level stretchof dry sand below. This must be an island, she concluded, for she hadread that there were half a dozen or so of these in the swamp, and thatthey were several miles in length. If this were true, she could land,and be safe for the night at least.
She brought her autogiro lower, and with her flash-light and herglasses examined the ground. Yes, there was space enough for a landing,with a plane like hers. She uttered a gasp of relief.
But she had rejoiced too soon, for when she lifted her eyes from theground to the level of her plane she was startled breathless by thesight of another plane, which had come out of nowhere, apparently, andwas rushing madly at her. As if it were actually aiming to crash intoher! As
if this were warfare, and the oncoming plane an enemy, intentupon her destruction!
In that instant she realized that this was an old plane--possibly oneof those abandoned by the Army--one that would not now pass inspection.No wonder it was tipping so strangely; it must be out of the pilot'scontrol.
Linda did the only thing possible, for she was too low to turn. Shedropped gracefully to the ground, avoiding a tree by a few inches.Thank goodness, it was solid beneath her!
The other plane was landing too, she observed, landing with a speedthat was ten times that of the autogiro, in a space that was fartoo small. The inevitable occurred; Linda closed her eyes as shesaw it about to crash. A terrifying thud followed; then a scream offright--and Linda opened her eyes to see the plane on its side, nosedinto a bank of bushes. Had it not been for that undergrowth, the wreckwould have been far worse than it was.
Linda had turned off her engine, and she jumped out of the autogiroimmediately and rushed to the scene of the disaster. What a smash itwas! No one would ever fly that plane again!
Two people were lying tangled up in the wreckage, whether dead oralive Linda could not immediately tell.
At her approach the man in the rear cock-pit opened his eyes and beganto move his hands and legs.
"Got a good knife, Linda?" he yelled, to the girl's profoundastonishment.
"I'll get one," she replied, wondering how he could possibly know hername. Or was he delirious, and thought he was talking to some otherLinda?
Hurrying back to her own plane she took out her thermos flasks and hertool-kit, and returned to the spot of the wreck. It was too dark nowto see the men distinctly, until she turned on her flash-light. As shecame closer, she saw that the man who had spoken was wriggling himselffree. His face was scratched, blood was running down his hands, but heapparently was not seriously hurt.
"Lucky this is an open plane," he muttered. "Now give me a hand, megirl!"
Linda did not like his tone, but she could not refuse to help a humanbeing in distress. Gradually he crawled out.
"Now for Susie!" he announced, as he raised himself unsteadily on hislegs.
Linda gasped. Was the other occupant a woman? A thrill of relief passedover her, for she had been terrified at the idea of being alone withsuch a hard-looking man in this desolate spot.
"A girl?" she stammered, pressing close to the plane.
"Yeah. Me wife. Her name's Susie."
Linda flashed the light under the wreckage of the plane, anddistinguished a young woman in a flyer's suit. She was unconscious.
Without another word they both set silently to work to disentangle her.At last they dragged her out--still unconscious. But she evidently wasstill alive, though the man remarked that her arm must be broken--andmaybe an ankle or two. He seemed very matter-of-fact about it all.
"What's in that flask?" he demanded abruptly, of Linda.
"Water," she replied.
"Water!" he snarled angrily. "Water!"
He looked as if he meant to hit her, and Linda recoiled in terror.
"Go hunt my flask in that wreck!" he commanded.
"Do it yourself!" returned Linda, with sudden spirit. "How do I knowthat that plane won't burst into flames any minute?"
She was surprised at her sudden display of independence; she had alwaysdepended upon Louise to stick up for their rights. But she had risen tothe occasion, now that she was alone.
The man started to swear, when suddenly the girl on the ground openedher eyes.
"Take care, Slats!" she begged, to Linda's astonishment. "We'll needthis girl and her plane--for I can't fly now!"
The man called "Slats" subsided, and went over to the wreckage. Lindabent over the injured "Susie," and put the flask of water to her lips.
Like the man's, the girl's face was scratched and bleeding, and shebegan to moan of the pain in her wrist. Her helmet had been pushedoff, and her blond hair hung about her face. Her lips were painted abrighter red than even blood could have colored them.
"Where are you hurt?" asked Linda, wiping the girl's face with herhandkerchief, and pushing the hair out of her eyes.
"My wrist, worst. And this ankle. And my back."
"If I have enough gasoline, we'll take you to a hospital in my plane."
"No! No!" cried the girl, in terror.
"Why not?" questioned Linda.
"You'll find out," replied the other, mysteriously, closing her eyes inpain.
Linda had no way of guessing what she meant, so she sat waiting insilence until the man returned. Five minutes later he appeared with atank of gasoline, and a flask of brandy, which he gave to his wife todrink.
"We're ready to go now, Linda," he announced. "You can help me carrySusie over to your Bug."
Again Linda started violently at the mention of her own name.
"Do you really know me?" she asked.
"Sure we do! You're Linda Carlton. Think you're about the smartestthing there is in the air today. Bought one of them new-fangled bugs.Ain't that right?"
"Partly," admitted Linda, wincing at the slur in his remark. "But howcould you possibly know?"
"Because we are out to get you. Wasn't your story in all thenewspapers, tellin' all about this trip of your'n? And ain't your Bugthe easiest thing to spot in the air?"
"Out to get me!" repeated Linda. "Do you mean that you wanted to killme?"
"No, lady. You're more use to us alive than dead--for a while, anyway.No. Our gang decided we could pick up a hundred grand easier bykidnapping you than by swiping jewelry. It was my idea!" He swelledwith pride, believing himself exceedingly clever. "And that's what youget for wanting to have your picture and glories in the papers all thetime!"
Linda listened wild-eyed to this information, and edged closer toSusie, as if her only protection would be found in the girl.
"So now these is your orders: You fly us to our camp tonight, and we'llkeep you there. You can sleep with Susie. We won't hurt you, if you dowhat we tell you, and don't get fresh, or try to get away. Once you dothat, we shoot. And believe me, I can aim--O.K. I've had a sight ofpractice in my business! I'm a mighty successful man--in my line."
"And what is your line, outside of kidnapping?" asked Linda.
"High-class robbery. Banks. Big jewels. We don't never hold up nobodyon the street, for a few dollars. Too petty for us! Nope! We're bigmen. Slick! Clever! Ask Susie!"
"Does Susie like all this?"
"Sure she does. We winter in Europe, and South America, and she strutsaround with all the big dames, flashing diamonds and duds that make 'emall look pale.... Now come along!"
It was useless to argue or talk any more, so Linda did as she wastold, and together they got Susie into the passenger's cock-pit of theautogiro. Her husband sat with her, holding his pistol up threateninglyat the back of Linda's head.
"Go where I tell you!" he ordered.
"I haven't much gas," she protested.
"I've got an extra flask here. But I'm not pouring it in till we needit, which I don't think we will. The camp ain't far--on Black JackIsland."
"Black Jack Island," Linda repeated to herself. "What an appropriatename!"
She was terrified, of course, but there was nothing to do except followdirections, and in a few minutes she brought the plane down on theisland that the man had specified.
"Leave the Bug here, Linda," he commanded, as he lifted Susie out ofthe plane. "And go ahead of me, as I tell you."
For several minutes the little procession made their way to the centerof the island, over the white sand towards the cypress and pine treesthat grew in greater profusion. Linda did not look back, but she knewthat while "Slats" carried Susie with one arm, he kept his pistol ather back with his other hand.
At last, by the aid of her flash-light, Linda spied several tents setup near together, and a welcome smell of food cooking greeted her asshe advanced.
"Stop here!" came the order. "This is where you spend the night!"