The sun was setting over the snow-covered horizon when Ted Mackay landed his mono-plane at Spring City on the last afternoon of the old year. A trifle stiff from their long ride, but still happy and carefree, the girls stepped out on the field.

At the arrival of the plane several of the men employed at the airport rushed out and greeted Linda Carlton, for they knew her well, from flying her Pursuit over Spring City, and coming there for supplies and inspection. Of course they had read her story in the newspapers.

"But you won't be flying for a while now, will you Miss Carlton?" remarked one of the men, regretfully.

"I shan't be flying the Pursuit," answered Linda. "But we have planes at school. I am taking a course at a ground school in St. Louis this year."

"What kind of course, Miss Carlton?"

"I am in line for two licenses—a commercial pilot's and a mechanic's."

"Mechanic's!" repeated the man, in consternation. "Are you in earnest?"

"Certainly," smiled Linda, for she was quite used to people exclaiming over her chosen study. "Will you give me a job here when I finish?"

"I'll say we will! If you'd take it. But you won't. You'll have bigger offers than this."

"Come along, Linda!" urged Louise, pulling her chum by the arm. "Aren't you cold?"

"No, but I'm dying to see my family," she replied, and followed Louise to the taxi which Ted had engaged.

In contrast to her homecoming before Christmas, when her father and her aunt were plunged in gloom, Linda found them almost hysterical in their joy. Never had her father seemed so wrought up, so emotional. He kissed her again and again. Tears streamed down her aunt's cheeks.

"Darling child!" she cried, "we thought we should never see you again! Oh, your father and I have never had two such dreadful days as yesterday and the day before!"

"But they're over now," returned Linda. "And the only sad part of it all is that I have no plane."

"Which is all for the best," was Miss Carlton's comment.

"I wish that I could buy you another," lamented her father.

It was then that Linda told her story, giving her reasons for the trip, and the events that led up to her suspicions about Bess Hulbert. Only one part she omitted—and that was her own desire to buy a Bellanca and fly the Atlantic. It would be a very poor time to tell her aunt of any such a wish.

Mr. Carlton listened in amazement; he was sure his daughter was correct in all her surmises.

"We can easily put an end to Miss Hulbert's smuggling now," he said. "With the help of the United States officers.... Why, Linda, you have saved my business!"

"I hope we have, Daddy. But don't forget the credit goes to Louise too. I never could have done anything without her to help me."

"That's all perfectly lovely," put in Miss Carlton. "But the person I'm most grateful to is Ted Mackay. No knowing what might have happened if he hadn't rescued you when he did. And think of the hours of torturing suspense he saved us all here at home!"

"Yes, that's right," agreed her brother, who now thoroughly approved of the young man. "I'd like to thank him myself. Where is he, Linda?"

"He went home with Lou. She invited him before I even thought of it. But she asked us all to come over to their house to dinner. How about it, Aunt Emily?"

"I'd be delighted. At least, if you'd rather go there than to the New Year's Eve dance at the Country Club."

"I'd rather go to both," announced Linda, gayly. "Lou and Ted expect to take that in too, for I heard her saying she'd dig out a costume for him. Could you find something for me, Auntie?"

"Of course I could," replied the older woman, smiling happily. It was just like old times again, she thought—with dinner parties and costume dances to take one's attention.

"I'll go up in the attic right away," she decided. "What sort of thing would you prefer?"

"Anything different from this dirty old flyer's suit. I hate the sight of it, after living in it at that miserable cabin. Why, I haven't had anything else since we left Plattsburg! I'm going to burn it tonight!"

Again Miss Carlton smiled; this was the Linda she liked best, the dainty girl who looked charming in fluffy, feminine gowns.

"I'm going to hurry and get my bath before anybody comes," added the girl. "And get into a dinner dress."

She left just in time, for no sooner had she reached the top of the stairs than she heard Ralph Clavering's voice in the hall.

"Linda! Linda!" he shouted, for her father had told him that she had just gone upstairs to dress.

"Hello, Ralph!" she called back. "I'm dying to see you, but I'm not presentable. Can you wait about twenty minutes?"

"I don't want to," he answered impatiently. "But I must, if you say so. Will you go to the dance with me tonight?"

"O.K.," she replied, joyfully. "I was 'waiting-for-a-partner,' just as we used to sing in that game we played when we were kids. Ted and Lou are going together, and I was left over!"

"As if Linda Carlton would ever be left over!" he muttered to himself, in amusement.

When she came downstairs, fifteen minutes later, arrayed in pink chiffon, he longed so to take her in his arms that it actually hurt to restrain himself. It was so good to see her again—alive and unharmed—more beautiful than ever! He wished she were not so capable, so bent upon having a career. A girl who looked so adorable had no right to possess the keen mind of a man.

But both Mr. Carlton and his sister were in the room, and Ralph had to content himself with shaking hands with Linda.

The time was short, however; even as she began to answer his questions, the phone bell rang. Congratulations were pouring in; telegrams and flowers arrived, and finally Ralph gave up hoping to talk to her.

"I'll come for you about ten o'clock," he managed to whisper into her ear while she sat at the telephone. Ever so lightly, without her even realizing it, he touched her hair with his lips.

It was with difficulty that she broke away at last, and went with her father and her aunt to Louise's in the big car that the chauffeur drove. Thanks to Linda, her aunt Emily would not have to give it up as she had expected.

That dinner party was the noisiest, jolliest affair Linda had ever attended. No holiday occasion had ever aroused such unrestrained merry-making. Even Ted Mackay, who usually was shy among strangers, felt perfectly at home. Louise's small brother insisted upon sitting next to him at dinner, and regarded him as a favored hero—in the class with Byrd and Lindbergh.

"Ted and I have gone into a conspiracy," announced Louise. "We're going to track down Bess Hulbert tonight, and make her confess everything!"

"At the party?" asked Linda, in amazement.

"Surest thing! It'll only add to the excitement."

"You'll never catch that baby!" remarked her brother, significantly.

"Go carefully," warned Mr. Haydock. "After all, there is a chance that she isn't guilty."

"A pretty slim chance!" laughed his daughter. "Anyway, it will be fun to spot her among all those rigs and false-faces."

"I thought you were going to say rigs and wigs, Sis!"

"All right, any way you like, Tim. Only I guess we better stop fooling and get dressed. It may take a good while to wiggle into our costumes. Especially yours, Big Boy," she added, to Ted. For he was to wear an old suit of her father's, which was sure to be rather small for him.

The girls, who had been used to these sorts of affairs, found the dance just like all the other parties. Lights, splendid costumes, gayety, color, and music; but to Ted Mackay it was strange and exciting. But he danced well, and his manners were just as good as those of the other boys—if anything he was more courteous than many of them. To his surprise he found that he was being fÊted along with Linda and Louise, who were singled out and congratulated every few minutes, not only by friends, but by mere acquaintances as well, who had read about them in the papers and felt proud to know them.

But although Ted was carried away by the fun and the excitement, Louise did not forget the fact that she had a self-appointed duty to perform, to corner Bess Hulbert, and ply her with questions.

She thought she had identified her in a Dutch girl's costume, but she found when they all unmasked for supper that she was mistaken.

"Where's that Hulbert woman?" she asked Kitty Clavering, irritably. Louise just had to be frank; if she felt no respect for a person she made no effort to conceal her opinion.

Kitty flushed. She never could understand why her friends did not care for Bess Hulbert as she did. The young woman was getting to be very unpopular at the Flying Club, and Ralph positively detested her.

"Bess?" she stammered. "She's gone abroad."

"Abroad!" repeated Louise, aghast, wondering whether she and Linda could have been mistaken all along. "When did she go?"

"She's sailing today. She left here for New York yesterday."

"What for?" demanded Louise, bluntly. But already she had guessed the reason. They had not been mistaken at all: Bess Hulbert was fleeing from justice!

"She's English, you know," Kitty explained. "Her family—except her brother—are all in England."

"Has she given up the idea of competing for that prize?"

"I don't think so. Not if she can get a boat, as she calls it."

"Have her people money?"

"How do I know?" retorted Kitty, in exasperation at this cross-examination. She never had got on well with Louise Haydock; she couldn't understand how such a sweet girl as Linda Carlton could want her as a best friend.

She turned abruptly away, for at that moment Lieutenant Hulbert entered the room, and made straight for Kitty. From that moment on, she had neither eyes nor ears for anyone else.

Louise was thankful to have Ted appear to claim her for another dance, and she told him immediately of Bess Hulbert's sudden departure.

"Just what we might have expected," said Ted. "Well, that is proof enough that she is guilty. Are you going on with the chase?"

"How can I—now? But if she ever dares to set foot in the United States again, and compete for that prize, I'll certainly do everything I can to expose her guilt."

"Don't forget, if you need me, I'm always right there!" Ted reminded her.

"I'll never forget it," Louise replied, wishing that she didn't like him so much. After all, he was Linda's find—and if her chum cared for him—and wanted him——

But Linda Carlton did not look at this moment as if she wanted anyone or anything more than she had. One partner after another would snatch her away when she had danced only half-way around the ballroom. Ralph Clavering was the most persistent pursuer of them all; he never allowed her a single dance without cutting in at least twice.

At first Linda took this as a joke, but when it happened for seven dances in succession, she grew a trifle weary, and asked him to stop it.

"If you will give me two whole dances alone—sitting them out in the balcony," he agreed. "Then I'll be satisfied."

"Why two?" she countered.

"Because I have so much to say to you!"

"Oh, all right," she said, and together they pushed through the crowd, up the stairs to the balcony to a spot where a long bench was hidden behind some palms.

She looked at him questioningly.

"Linda darling, haven't you guessed what it is all about?" he demanded, bending over so close to her that his face almost touched hers. "I love you! I've always loved you! I want you to give up this fool air school, and marry me. Elope with me! Tonight!"

Linda drew back, in amazement.

"Why, Ralph, you're talking of something impossible!" she said, hurt at the very idea. "Imagine your father—my Aunt Emily—if we eloped!... I never did think elopements were romantic—only selfish, when you consider the folks at home. Besides, you have college to finish——"

"I could chuck it!" he interrupted, putting his arm about her slender shoulders, and drawing her closer to him. "Please! I'll buy you a new plane——"

"Now Ralph!" she laughed, and rose quickly to her feet. "Don't try to bribe me. No—positively no!"

"But you do like me?"

"Yes. Heaps."

"Not love?"

"I don't care for any man in that way," she declared.

"Are you sure you don't love Ted Mackay?" Jealousy was always a part of Ralph's nature.

"Oh, no! I have always admired him for his ability. But I don't love him.... No, I'm only in love with aviation."

He was standing too, looking disappointed, but not heart-broken.

"I may ask you again?" he pleaded.

"When you graduate from college, yes."

"Two and a half years to wait!" he sighed, despondently.

"If I'm not lost in the ocean in the meanwhile," she added, lightly.

"Linda, that reminds me—" He pulled her down to the bench again. "I know you're counting on trying for that prize—oh, don't deny it, for I saw the excitement in your eyes that day Bob Hulbert made the announcement—but I don't think you can hope to win, even if you do get hold of another plane.... I'm afraid that Hulbert woman is going to beat you to it."

"Why, Ralph?" asked Linda, seeing that it was useless to deny her desire.

"Because I believe she's planning to fly soon."

"What with?"

"She's gone to England to have a special plane made.... I'll tell you a secret, if you promise not to breathe it to Kitty that I told you: Sis lent her her pearls, so that Miss Hulbert could raise a loan for the price of the plane."

"Oh, no!" cried Linda, shocked for Kitty's sake, as well as for her own and Louise's.

"Yes, she did. I saw Miss Hulbert take away a box yesterday, and I questioned Kitty. So she told me why."

"Then," concluded Linda, dolefully, "I guess that settles it!"

"So you might as well give up aviation and marry me!"

"Forget it, Ralph!" Then, deliberately assuming a light-hearted manner again, she added, "Come on back and dance.... But remember—no more cutting in!"