  The little Mexican adobe house which Bert Chase had discovered was the funniest Linda and Dot had ever seen. A one-room affair, with a slanting straw-covered roof, and no windows. Only two doors, opening back and front. “I’d almost rather sleep under the stars,” remarked Linda. “For there are probably all sorts of bugs in the corners and cracks.” Dot shivered. “Still, bugs are better than bears and snakes, that might come wandering down from those mountains,” she said. “And besides, it would be ungrateful not to use the house after Bert found it.” “It will be protection from the sun in the morning,” added Linda. “Because this Mexican climate gets pretty hot.” So, spreading their blankets on the floor and propping the doors open with sticks, they lay down on their hard bed and fell fast asleep, not to awaken until quite late the following morning. “Fog again!” yawned Dot, as she finally got up stiffly and walked to the door. “I’m sick of these fogs.” “It’ll probably clear up soon,” Linda reminded her. “I’ve read that early morning fogs are the common thing in this part of the country.” “Let’s hunt that stream Bert was talking about, and get a good wash,” suggested Dot. “Before we go back to the autogiro.” They found it not far from the little house, and although it was shallow and narrow, the water was clear and refreshing. They felt much better as they made their way back to the spot where the Ladybug had landed. For several minutes they could see nothing because of the fog, and they began to feel worried. Suppose something had happened to Chase or to the autogiro during the night! What a desolate place to be stranded! Before these dismal thoughts could really take hold of them, they spied the dim outlines of the Ladybug, shadowy in the fog. She was still there! Their means of escape. Dot placed her hands at her mouth, and gave a war-whoop for Chase. “Yo-ho-ho-ho-Bert!” she shouted. “Yo-ho, girls!” came the reassuring reply. “This way!” Then they distinguished a fire, and a moment later, came upon him, contentedly cooking a fish. “Where did you get it?” demanded Dot. “Caught it. Early this morning,” he replied. “I felt guilty about eating so much of your food last night, so I tried to get a contribution. That stream widens out about a mile below your little house, so I went down and tried my luck.” “You’re a peach!” exclaimed Dot. “Because all we have left is coffee and that terrible Mexican bread. It’s a wonder they don’t learn how to bake in Mexico.” “It surely smells good,” observed Linda. “How soon can we eat?” “As soon as you girls make the coffee. I brought up a fresh supply of water this morning. We’ll boil some of it, to take along with us for drinking, while we have the chance to do it.” It turned out to be a delicious as well as a merry meal. While they ate, the fog gradually lifted, bringing a clear, if hot day, for their flight. “We must be pretty near the coast of the Gulf of California,” said Linda. “So I think perhaps our best plan would be to fly across to the peninsula. I have an idea that girl is going to abandon the Sky Rocket as soon as she can, for it’s pretty conspicuous.” “What would she do to get away, if she hadn’t a plane?” demanded Dot. “Hide somewhere, or take a boat for South America perhaps. Now that she and her husband are out of the United States, it would be easy enough for them to book passage on a small steamer—without being noticed.” “Is your autogiro in good condition?” inquired Chase. “I mean—I didn’t damage it yesterday, did I?” “No. You know you never touched me. But I’ll look her over before we start. And put in that tank of extra gas I was carrying in the passenger’s cockpit.” “Perhaps I could help you?” suggested the young man. “I don’t know much about the inside workings of a plane, but maybe two heads are better than one.” Dot let out a peal of laughter. “Linda is a graduate airplane mechanic,” she said. “She is the only woman in the country with a mechanic’s license!” Chase stared in open-mouthed amazement. “Whew!” he exclaimed. “I do take off my hat to you, Miss Linda Carlton!” “You’d better!” laughed Dot. “Oh, don’t be so silly,” put in Linda, anxious to be off. “Let’s all go over to the Ladybug now.” While Dot put the equipment into the autogiro, Chase filled the gasoline tank and Linda gave the boat a hasty inspection. Apparently everything was ship-shape. They climbed into the cockpits and Linda started the rotors in motion. It was Chase’s first experience in an autogiro, and he watched her with absorbed interest. The ease with which the Ladybug rose into the air seemed nothing short of miraculous to him, accustomed as he was to the prolonged taxi-ing of a fast plane. With the aid of her maps and compass, Linda was able to judge their location pretty definitely, and she flew westward to the Gulf of California, aiming to stop first at an airport to make inquiries about the Sky Rocket, and to refuel. They passed over the plateau, and caught glimpses of several Mexican villages, which, however, seemed too small to boast of airports. At last, however, about noon, she spotted a town of some size, with beacon sign-posts, pointing to an airport. Here she made her landing. “We’ll be out of luck if they don’t speak English,” remarked Dot. “Don’t worry about that,” returned Chase. “I can speak Spanish, and they all understand that down here.” But it wasn’t necessary, for one of the attendants at the field spoke English perfectly. “Have you seen a yellow biplane?” demanded Dot, as the man came out of the hangar. “A fast plane?” The attendant nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I did. We got a radio yesterday, telling us to be on the look-out for a stolen plane. I’m pretty sure I saw her yesterday, but she didn’t stop here.” “She wouldn’t,” remarked Dot, bitterly. “What direction did she take?” asked Linda. “Straight across the Gulf. Due west.” “Due west for us, then,” announced Linda. “Fill up my tanks, for we want to leave with all possible speed.” Inside of ten minutes they were off again, more encouraged than they had been since the beginning of their pursuit. It looked now as if they really might catch those criminals. In their eagerness to follow hot on the trail, not one of the three fliers even thought of lunch. Later in the day they were to regret this omission sorely. An hour of flying brought them to the coast, but Linda did not stop. Out over the water she flew, her heart beating rapidly with the expectation of victory ahead. But in her excitement, she had not realized how wide the Gulf of California was at this southern part. Two hundred miles, at least, if she kept her course straight. She had covered only a little more than half of this, when she saw to her horror that her main tank was exhausted. Twelve gallons of gas in the emergency supply, and almost a hundred miles to go! What a fool she had been, not to put an extra tank into the cockpit! To think that after all her experience, she should be endangering three lives by her carelessness! To be forced down in the water! To meet death in a way she had not thought of, since her flight across the Atlantic Ocean! She slowed down her speed and gazed all about her at the limitless expanse of water beneath them. No land in sight—not even a boat to which she could signal. Parachute jumping would be of no use, and she did not carry life-preservers. She glanced again at the indicator; conserving gas as well as she could, it was nevertheless rapidly disappearing. Ten minutes more, perhaps—and then a watery grave! She grew panicky, more for her companions than for herself. She would have to tell them of their fate. Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she called into the speaking-tube: “We’re out of gas. We have to come down. Be prepared to jump clear of the ship!” Chase and Dot looked at each other in incredulity. The young man thought Linda was joking, but the girl knew that it was not her chum’s habit to make ghastly jokes. If Linda said danger, she meant it. Desperately Dot reached for the glasses and peered anxiously about them in all directions. Linda, her lips tight and her heart tense, continued to guide the plane and to watch the indicator. Five minutes more, perhaps—and then—what? The hungry waves, tossing beneath her, seemed to make their greedy answer. A sudden hysterical cry from Dot sounded above the roar of the motor. “Land!” she shouted, wildly. “Bank to the right!” And then, fearing that Linda had not heard her, she repeated her message through the speaking-tube. Although Linda could still see nothing with her naked eye, she did as she was told, thankful that she was high enough in the air to gain considerable distance by gliding. Two minutes passed; the gas ran dry, but now the island was in sight. By careful manipulation, Linda thought she could make it. With a series of side-slips, she gradually made her approach, coming nearer and nearer to the land as she descended, until she was actually over it. Then, with a dead-stick landing, so much easier with an autogiro than with an ordinary plane, she slowly came down on the sandy soil of the beach! “Oh, thank Heaven!” cried Dot, in an ecstasy of relief. “A miracle, if there ever was one.” Chase said nothing for a moment; he was speechless with admiration. “Pretty tight squeeze,” admitted Linda, as she wiped the perspiration from her face. “If it hadn’t been for you, Dot, I’d never have seen it.” Still trembling from their experience, the girls climbed out of the cockpits with Chase’s assistance. At last the young man found words to express his admiration to Linda. But she was too ashamed of her lack of foresight to accept any praise. She was still terribly vexed with herself. “Now we’ll have to explore,” announced Dot. “Do you suppose anybody lives on this island?” “I’m afraid not,” replied Chase. “Or they’d have been here to see us by this time. It looks pretty barren and forsaken to me.” “No trees! No shade at all!” added Dot. Nothing, indeed, but a dry underbrush, and the sort of weeds that grow in sandy soil. The little group walked all around the island, and found it to be very small. Probably it was not even shown on most maps, though Linda did recall seeing some dots in the southern part of the Gulf. And of course nobody lived there. Dismally they came back to the beach where the Ladybug was resting. “Is there any food left at all?” asked Chase, trying not to appear too eager. “Not a crumb,” replied Dot. “Though we do still have about a gallon of water.” “The first thing to do,” he said, “is to climb up on the plane and hoist a signal of distress. So we’ll catch a ship, if one goes past. If you’ll get me something to put....” He glanced shyly at the girls. As they were both in khaki flying-suits, there was no chance of using a white skirt or petticoat, as he had so often read of, in books about ship-wreck. But Linda immediately procured a large square of canvas which she kept on hand for repair, and he did the climbing at once. When he came down again, he produced the fishing-line which he had improvised that morning and set about to try to catch a fish. Linda spent her time inspecting the plane, and Dot went about gathering underbrush for a fire, in case Chase was lucky enough to secure a catch. Each of the three had taken a deep drink of water, resolutely trying to stave off their hunger by that means. An hour passed, and another, without any sign of a boat, and the girls began to wonder whether they would have to spend the night on this tiny island, without any food. They were sitting back on the beach, near to the autogiro, talking a little, and searching the waters often with the glasses for the sight of a ship. The sun was already low against the horizon. “I wonder how far we are from the peninsula,” remarked Dot. “Maybe we could swim.” “Not on an empty stomach,” returned Linda. “Besides, we must be pretty far. According to my figures.... Oh, look, Dot!” She jumped gaily to her feet. “What! A boat?” cried her companion. “No. Only Bert—with a fish! But it surely does look good.” “Light your fire, Dot!” the young man called as he approached. “The fish is cleaned—all ready to fry.” “You’re an ace!” returned the girl, looking admiringly at the young man in his flier’s suit, and his rumpled hair and cheery smile. How different he looked from the first time the girls had seen him—as a stern detective in Von Goss’s office. It didn’t seem possible that they had known him only a few days. She lighted the fire, and half an hour later they ate their scanty supper. If anyone had ever told them that fish without any bread, or even salt, would taste good, they would not have believed it. But now they found it extremely satisfying. “I’m going right back again,” said Chase, when they had finished eating. “If I have to fish all night, I’m determined to get something for your breakfast!” “You—won’t—have—to,” announced Linda, slowly, handing her glasses to Dot. “I’m sure I see a boat!” |
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