When the girls awakened at practically the same time—for Louise, in stirring, moved against Linda—they were horrified to see that it was half past eight by their wrist watches.

"Two hours wasted!" groaned Louise. "And it's going to be hot today! Oh, Linda, why didn't we wake up at six?"

"Next time I'll bring an alarm clock," laughed her companion. "Come on, let's straighten ourselves up. I—I—believe I'd rather not swim!"

"No, indeed!" agreed Louise, recalling the horror they had witnessed the night before. "We'll use what water we have—we can't carry much on our hike anyway.... Now, let's see what we have for breakfast."

"There's some fruit left, and a little bit of chicken. With water to drink we'll have a fine meal."

They sat down beside the plane to eat, and both girls seemed to enjoy their breakfast, meager as it was. For each had resolutely made up her mind to be cheerful.

"Are the pearls safe?" asked Linda, as she gathered up the chicken bones.

"In my pocket!" replied Louise, taking them out for examination. "How about your pistol?"

"O.K.... Lou! Look! A plane!"

Both girls jumped instantly to their feet and waved their arms and their coats in the air as signals of distress. If only the pilot would look down and see them!

He was flying low enough to make this perfectly possible, but a moment later his ascent sent a sickening disappointment into their hearts. He was going away without even seeing them! Useless to yell; no one could possibly hear above the deafening noise. To be so near to a rescue, and then to have it fail them in the end!

It was Linda, with her knowledge of flying, who was the first to realize that the aviator wasn't really going away, that he was only retreating farther into the field to make a safe landing, clear of them and their plane. In her ecstasy she hugged Louise tightly.

"He's coming down, Lou! To rescue us!"

"How do you know?" demanded the other, incredulously. "He seems to be going farther away to me!"

"No, he isn't! It's only to land clear of us. Lou, it must be Roger!"

"Roger? Why? How!"

"Because he would investigate, when we failed to telephone!"

"But suppose it's another bandit—like—you know! Get your revolver!"

"It's right here. But don't worry, Lou. Look! He's on the ground!"

The pilot brought the beautiful new cabin monoplane expertly to a stop and shut off the engine. To the girls' amazement two men, not one, stepped out. Both of them were old friends!

"Roger! Ted!" cried both the girls at once, in their delight in recognizing them. They felt as if they had been rescued from a desert island.

"You're both safe? Unhurt?" cried Roger, excitedly.

"Thank God!" murmured Ted, reverently.

"Yes—safe, but stranded," replied Louise. "We've only seen one person since noon yesterday—and he couldn't speak English!"

"Nevertheless, he's the one you owe the rescue to!" replied Roger.

"You saw him?" demanded Linda, incredulously. "But you must have been out hunting for us, first, Roger. Oh, I think you're just wonderful!"

"No—the credit goes to Mr. Mackay," returned Roger, modestly. "And the German fellow, with his apple-cart." And he proceeded to relate in detail everything that had led to their pursuit and discovery.

"Your shoulder is all right, Ted?" inquired Linda, after she heard that he was back at his job.

"Yes, fine, thank you. And I can never thank you enough for what you did for me, Linda! I'll tell you all about it later."

"Oh, that was nothing!" protested the girl lightly. Then, turning anxiously to Roger, "Have you any news of my father?"

"He is alive, but that is all my mother could learn last night from the housekeeper over the telephone. But don't worry—you'll be there yourself in a few hours!"

"How?" she asked, glancing helplessly at her plane. "There's something wrong with my motor. It may take a long time to fix—and—if I go by train—Daddy might—" she stopped; she just couldn't say "die."

"You're flying in my new plane!" Roger informed her. "Which I have just purchased from Mr. Mackay. We'll leave right away, or as soon as he examines yours, so he can tell me what to send out to him here. We'll stop somewhere and phone for help."

"Roger, would you really do that?" cried Linda, in relief. "That would be wonderful!"

"A pleasure!" he said. "Now—tell us what happened to you."

"I really don't know, except that the motor acted awfully queer. But I was lucky enough to make a safe landing."

"It was just dreadful," put in Louise. "I was absolutely certain we were going to be killed. Linda was wonderful."

"She's a fine little pilot," said Ted, admiringly. "Shows she can keep her head in an emergency—and that's one of the most important things for an aviator.... Now, let's have a look at the plane."

They all went with him while he examined it.

"I'm afraid I can't fix it without some new parts, and some special tools," he said, making notes as he spoke. "But it's nothing that can't be repaired quickly. If you'll telephone our Denver field, Mr. Stillman, and read this note to the mechanic, they'll send a man out. And as soon as it's fixed, I'll pilot it to you at the ranch, Linda.... Be sure to give me the directions.... Now, have you girls had anything to eat?"

"Oh, yes, we had supper last night," answered Louise, "left over from our picnic lunch, and we even saved some fruit and some chicken for breakfast."

"Then you people might as well start," urged Ted. "No use wasting time."

"One thing more," added Louise, while Linda busied herself writing the directions for Ted, "we almost forgot! We found a wrecked plane last night—two men dead—and recovered the necklace!"

"What?" demanded Ted, in consternation.

Roger, however, did not know what they were talking about, and no one had time to explain.

"The wreck's over by a stream—about half a mile beyond those bushes," Louise informed Ted. "You can explore it while you're waiting."

"And maybe salvage some of it!" added Ted, hopefully.

Five minutes later the other three took off in the new plane, Louise somehow sitting on Linda's lap. It wasn't very comfortable, but it would not be for far. They would descend at the nearest landing place, Roger getting in touch with Denver, while Louise called Miss Carlton, Mrs. Stillman, and her parents, and then summoned a taxicab, to take her to a railroad station.

The rest of the trip was smooth and uneventful. Once only did they make a stop after Louise left—that time to get some lunch at a hotel in Fort Worth. In another hour they reached the ranch and landed right on Mr. Carlton's field, for Linda knew from former directions just where the best spot would be.

"Come in with me, Roger," she invited, trying to keep her voice steady.

They approached the house, an old-fashioned, rambling affair, and knocked at the screen door. A middle-aged woman, neatly dressed, came through the hall.

"How do you do, Mrs. Cates," said Linda. "I am Mr. Carlton's daughter, and this is Mr. Stillman, who has brought me in his plane."

"Good afternoon," replied the older woman. "Come right in, my dear. I've been expecting you."

Linda had been watching her face, to try to ascertain from her expression whether the news of her father was bad.

"How—how—is Daddy?" she asked, with trembling lips, as she and Roger followed Mrs. Cates into the big room where her father evidently spent most of his indoor hours. A huge fireplace occupied most of one wall, and there were many book-shelves. A table, a few chairs, and an old couch were all the other furnishings, so that the great room looked almost empty and desolate without its master.

"He is still alive—but unconscious," sighed Mrs. Cates, shaking her head mournfully. Her expression was one of resignation; she felt sure that Mr. Carlton could not get better.

"Unconscious!" repeated Linda. "Has he been so, long?"

"Ever since his fall. He was riding a new horse—that he never should have bought—and was thrown down a steep bank. His leg is broken, but worse than that, he suffered severe internal injuries. Dr. Winston is afraid there ain't much hope."

The words were the cruelest Linda had ever heard; she burst out crying, and hid her face on Mrs. Cates' motherly shoulder. Roger Stillman remained standing, embarrassed. He did not know what to do.

He coughed slightly, and Linda looked up, ashamed of herself for breaking down.

"Is there anything at all, Linda, that I can do for you?" he asked. "Or for you, Mrs. Cates?"

"I'm afraid not, thank you, Roger," replied the girl. "But don't you want something to eat before you start back?"

"No, thanks. I ought to be home early this evening, and I'll get supper then. I'm not a bit hungry now." And with a sympathetic handshake, he left her.

"Would you like to go to your room, my dear—or do you want to see your father first?" asked the housekeeper. "I have him here on the ground floor."

"I want to see Daddy!" replied Linda, wiping the tears from her eyes.

The older woman led her across the hall to a room where the door was open, and she caught sight of her father, lying almost lifeless upon the bed. Impulsively Linda rushed in to him. It just didn't seem possible that he wouldn't recognize her, and hold out his arms to receive her!

But he continued to lie death-like upon the bed, his head motionless upon the pillow. His eyes were closed.

"Daddy! Daddy darling!" she cried, in a voice that shook with pain. Dropping to her knees, she knelt beside his bed, and covered his limp hand with kisses.

But there was no response whatever to her greeting!

For some time she stayed there, praying that he would get better. Mrs. Cates had left them alone, but in half an hour she came back.

"Come, my dear, you must get some rest. Take off your clothing, and wash your face and hands and lie down for a while. Then perhaps you will be able to eat some supper."

Obediently Linda did as she was told, for she realized that the housekeeper was only trying to be kind. And, after a short nap, she had to admit that she felt better.

"Any change, Mrs. Cates?" was her first question, when she sat down to supper with the woman and her husband. The rest of the help ate in the kitchen, but Mrs. Cates realized that this was no time for the girl to be alone.

"No. Not a bit."

"Oughtn't there to be a trained nurse?"

"Dr. Winston didn't think so. I'm doing what needs to be done."

"When will the doctor be back?"

"Tonight, after supper."

Somehow Linda felt dissatisfied, as if enough were not being done. Another doctor should have been called in—a surgeon, perhaps. And surely a trained nurse.

She spoke of these things to Dr. Winston when he came over about eight o'clock that evening. But he shook his head.

"I'm afraid nothing can save your father, my child," he said. "There's only one chance in a thousand he might get well, if we operated. And there's only one surgeon in the United States who ever had any success with that sort of operation."

"But if there is one!" cried Linda, eagerly jumping to the tiny hope his words suggested. "We must get that surgeon! Who is he? Where is he?" She was talking rapidly, excitedly, almost incoherently.

"He is a Dr. Lineaweaver. A marvelous man. But I happen to know he is away on his vacation now."

"Where does he go?"

"That I don't know."

"But you know where he lives?"

"Yes. St. Louis."

"Then won't you please call his home and find out where he is, and I'll go for him as soon as I get my plane back."

The doctor shook his head sorrowfully.

"I'm afraid it's too late, my child. I—I—doubt if your father will live through the night. And you couldn't fly at night—even if your plane were here."

"I can—and will! And I think I hear my plane now—yes, I'm sure that's it. Get me the address—quick—and you put in the call while I run out and see my plane! And try to get a trained nurse immediately. I'll be back before dawn—unless the surgeon's in Europe or Canada!"

And, dashing in to give her father one kiss, she hurried out to find faithful Ted Mackay, alighting from her beloved Arrow.