CHAPTER VI
_Bad News_
The next four weeks at the school opened an entirely new chapterin Linda Carlton's life. Cold weather flying! Figuring on drops intemperature, high winds, sleet and snow! Using instruments as she hadnever used them before. Practicing landing her plane in small spaces,marked off by the instructor. Learning to repair simple injuries likecuts in the wings and installing new propellers. Never had anythingbeen so fascinating; sometimes, late in the afternoons after regularschool hours, she would stay on with Eckers, watching him inspect amotor, or going up in the air with him on a test flight, till she wouldforget all about supper. By the time the holidays had arrived, he toldher he would be willing to have her do some testing herself.
Usually as she sat there, watching him intently, and now and thenperforming some simple service, she would be absolutely quiet. Butsometimes she talked of the future, of her hope of securing a good jobin aviation, of her dream of flying the Atlantic.
Home, social life--even family life--at Spring City seemed far awayfrom her now. It was with a start that she suddenly realized it wasDecember twentieth, the first day of vacation, when she and Louise wereexpected home. And they had not even bought a Christmas card!
Only once in those four weeks had she met with the slightest accident.It happened early in the month, one afternoon when, flying a schoolplane, a sudden shower, a veritable cloudburst, came up, and one of hercylinders cut out. She happened to be rather low--only a few hundredfeet above the ground--so it was necessary for her to land. Cutting thethrottle, she came down into a soft muddy swamp. The wheels touchedthe oozy ground, the plane ran a few feet and nosed over. But nothingserious happened; the propeller was badly cracked, and both Lindaand the plane covered with mud, but she stepped out laughing. Minoraccidents like that are all in the day's work!
As each succeeding day had passed, she was gaining confidence in herability to cope with any sort of accident. And now, flying home toSpring City in the clear morning sunlight seemed only like so muchplay. She suggested that she turn the controls over to Louise, to addto the latter's flying hours.
They came down in the field behind Linda's house, but Louise refused tostop to go inside with her chum.
"I can run home across the back field by the time you'd have the carout of the garage," she said. "Glad I didn't bring a suit-case--I'venothing to carry but this hand-bag.... So you go on in to your aunt.She's probably waiting breathlessly to see how many broken limbs youhave!"
Linda laughed: it was true that Miss Carlton expected an injury everytime anyone rode in an airplane. So she hurried into the house throughthe back door, and skipped into the library where she knew her AuntEmily would be waiting.
But she came upon a surprise. Her father was standing beside the table,nervously fingering a magazine. Linda knew in a glance that somethingwas wrong; he smiled at her in a queer manner as he kissed her, andMiss Carlton's expression was like a person's at a funeral. What werethey both trying to hide?
She looked questioningly at her aunt.
"We can't keep anything from you, can we, Linda?" remarked the latter.
"Please tell me what is wrong, Aunt Emily!"
"Nothing so dreadful. Only--business. I'll let your father tell youwhile I go to look after the dinner.... You're all right, dear? Noaccidents?"
"Just fine!" replied Linda, her eyes still sparkling from the fun offlying in that cold, clear weather.
Miss Carlton left the room, and her brother began almost immediately,without even sitting down.
"I guess I never should have tried going into a new business at myage," he remarked, almost bitterly. "It looked like a good thing,though--a novel thing. But conditions arose that I could never haveforeseen. I'm--I'm going to be bankrupt, Linda, I'm afraid--unlesssomething happens in the next month."
"Bankrupt!" repeated his daughter, in amazement. "But Daddy, why?"
"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand, dear--or rather, it's no useburdening you with unnecessary worries. Your Aunt Emily is willing forme to sell this house, to raise some money. I'm only too thankful thatyou won't have to give up your school--that that's all paid for, and Iput the money aside for you."
"But Daddy, you can have that back again--or most of it! So long as thecourse is paid for in advance, I'll have very few expenses till the endof the term. Only my board--I don't even need clothes."
She had spoken impulsively, but she knew as she said this, that itmeant death to her hopes of flying the Atlantic. Yet she did nothesitate; her father's happiness was worth all the prizes and fame inthe world.
"And how would you live, after you finish at the school?" he asked."It's awfully generous of you, dear, but I don't see how I could takeit."
"I'm going to get a job--flying. I intended to, anyhow, once I have acommercial pilot's license. Oh, Daddy, please!"
"Well, maybe I will, if I can't see my way clear any other way. But ofcourse it will be only a loan. That is, if the business can be saved."He had forgotten her dream of flying the Atlantic, and she did notremind him.
"I wish you would tell me just what happened," she urged. "I'm sure Ican understand.
"Of course I will," he agreed, realizing her genuine sympathy andinterest. "Though there is a mystery about it that even I can'tunderstand.
"I sold all my first order to the stores in New York and Philadelphiaand Chicago, as I told you at Thanksgiving, and I had a lot moreorders. I even took on new salesmen for other cities, and I sent myagent up to Canada, to the convent, to rush me a new supply. I evenwrote ahead to ask the Mother Superior to employ some poor women in thevillage, and teach them the needle-work--at my expense.
"Yesterday the blow came. My agent wired that all the work had beensold to someone else--someone who paid more than I did!"
"But how could they, Daddy?" demanded Linda. "Didn't they promise you?"
"Well, not exactly. You see I didn't know how well the thing wouldtake, so I didn't have any actual contract. Besides, the MotherSuperior probably never noticed the agent--or she may have been led tobelieve he was one of my men. Anyway, she sold everything. And here isthe queer part of the story:
"The stores which bought from me became impatient when I didn't refilltheir orders, and bought from this other man _at a lower price_! Hepaid more for the lace-work, and sells it for less!"
It was certainly baffling; Linda tried hard to see it from every angle.
"Had you marked the goods too high, Daddy?" she asked. "I mean so highthat this other man could afford to sell for less, and still makemoney?"
"No, I hadn't. I was taking a very small profit, because I was afraidto make the work too expensive, for fear it wouldn't sell. And there'sa big tax to pay, besides, for bringing it into the United States fromCanada. No, every way I figure it out, this man must be losing money."
Suddenly he sighed, and dropped into a chair, as if he were thoroughlybeaten.
"So you see, dear, there's nothing I can do," he concluded. "It wouldbe folly for me to go on, because even if the convent would sell to meagain, I would have to pay this new high price--and lose more money.The best thing I can do is pay my debts--sublet my offices, if Ican, for unfortunately I took a long term lease--and get out. And bethankful I haven't lost more!"
"But Daddy, aren't you going to even try to solve the mystery?" askedLinda, her eyes blazing with anger. "Somebody is just planning to kickyou out, taking a loss for a few months, so as to get the business! Itcan't last. Why not take my money and go on--at a loss--for a while?"
"But I couldn't hold out as long as he could. He probably has a lotmore capital than I have, and could afford to play a losing game fora long while, until he had wiped me out, and gotten hold of the tradefor himself. He's probably begun already to build up a trade all overthe country, while so far I've only handled some of eastern cities--asfar as Chicago. No, Daughter, I'm afraid I've made a mistake--I'm notthe sort of fellow for cut-throat competition, as they all practice inbusiness today."
"H
old on for a little while longer, Daddy, and--investigate!" she urged.
"And use up all your money?"
"Yes. Why not?"
He placed his hand upon hers, and stroked it gently. Then he suddenlyremembered her proposed flight over the ocean, and stopped:
"But Linda, isn't it your greatest hope to fly the Atlantic?" he asked.
She choked a little, but she answered resolutely.
"I think I'll give that up. There are other women flyers so much betterand so much more experienced than I am, that they'll be sure to do itnext spring."
He could not know how valiantly she was giving up her greatestaspiration.
"Well, if that's the case," he said, "perhaps I will borrow some ofyour money, and try to go on. But we will sell this house anyway, andtake an apartment. Your Aunt Emily says it's too big for her now....But stop thinking about my troubles, dear, and go find out about yourengagements for the holidays. There's a pile of mail on your deskwaiting for you."
Linda dashed off, in the pretense of being interested in her mail,but in reality to get control of herself, to steel herself to thegreat sacrifice she had just made. She mustn't let her father seehow terribly disappointed she was! She mustn't tell him how they hadpraised her work at the school, how she ranked far above most of theyoung men who were studying! She must get hold of Louise, and stop herfrom talking.
Oh, the pain of going back to school, and telling her instructor--Mr.Eckers, who was so much interested in her project that he kept itconstantly in mind, the better to prepare her for every emergency thatmight arise when the time came for the momentous trip! The tears cameto her eyes, but she fought them back. There was no good in sacrifice,if one had to be a martyr about it. No; she must pretend to beperfectly satisfied over the affair.
She lay on her bed, her head buried in her pillow, fighting for controlof herself. The unopened invitations lay in a tumbled pile beside her.
But it suddenly dawned upon her that her aunt might come in at anymoment. She mustn't let her guess anything!
Then, like a refuge in a storm, she again thought of Louise. She wouldgo to her right away. With her chum there would be no need of acting.And though Louise would be almost as disappointed as Linda was herself,yet the sympathy would help.
So she hurried and changed from her flying suit into a street dress,and hiding her invitations under her pillow so that her aunt wouldn'twonder at her lack of interest, she skipped lightly down the stairs,and, calling good-by to her aunt, ran out to the garage for her littlecar.
She found her chum lying luxuriously on her bed, sipping tea andreading her mail. Impulsively Linda threw her arms about her, andstarted to cry. It was such a relief to weep!
"Darling!" cried Louise, in genuine alarm. "What is the matter? Is yourfather sick--or hurt?"
"No, no," sobbed Linda. "Oh, Lou--it's good to cry!"
"Good to cry!" repeated the other girl in utter amazement. Less thanan hour ago she had left her in the best of spirits. Besides, it was arare thing to see Linda in tears.
"Yes. I can't cry at home. Listen...."
And she told the story of her father's failure.
"So it means giving up our flight--for the prize!" she concluded.
"And let Bess Hulbert win!" added Louise, bitterly. "Not without astruggle, you can make sure of that!"
"But what can we do, Lou?"
"I don't know.... Oh, if Dad only had a lot of money! But I'm sureeverything he has is tied up in his business.... Linda, why aren't werich like Kitty Clavering?"
"Yes, why aren't we? I never cared much before. I always thought we hadenough to be happy."
"So we did. Till something like this comes along.... We might ask theFlying Club to back us."
Linda only smiled.
"If they can back anybody, it will be Miss Hulbert. But they can't,unless Mr. Clavering does it personally."
"Well, we'll just have to think up some plan. Maybe the school----"
"No, that's no hope, because every flyer there wants backing forsomething, some race, or some enterprise. No, that's out."
"Just the same, we're not giving up yet!" announced Louise, withdetermination. "Your father may pull out, or somebody may stop us onthe street and take such a fancy to one of us----"
"Lou, you've been reading dime novels!" teased Linda. "There are toomany good flyers today--good women flyers, too--for anybody to do thatnow."
"True. But there must be something--some way----"
"If we could only help Daddy in some way," mused Linda. "Find out whothe man is who is trying to kill his business, and persuade him to takeDaddy into partnership."
"Now you're on the track, Linda!" cried the other girl,enthusiastically. "We'll do that very thing! Hunt the mystery! Why,Linda, we've got over two weeks, and a plane and two cars! Who'd wantmore?"
"Wonderful! And we don't want to go to all these parties and dancesanyhow, feeling the way we do!"
"Righto!"
The girls hugged each other in their ecstasy, and swayed back and forthhappily. Then Louise grabbed her invitations, and began to make a list.
"We'll go over our mail and decline everything that comes afterChristmas day," she said, in a business-like manner.
"And tomorrow morning we'll go to the stores and buy some of thisstuff, and get the name of the dealer."
"Then fly to Montreal in his pursuit, if necessary!"
"In our 'Pursuit,'" corrected Linda.