The girls' visit with the elderly couple at the hotel at Kansas City was restful, but uneventful. As soon as they arrived, Linda telephoned to her aunt over long distance, and made a satisfactory report. Dinner and the movies occupied their evening.

Early the next morning they bade their host and hostess a temporary farewell—for they were scheduled to return in a couple of days—and took a taxi to the airplane company where their Arrow was being kept.

"It's a little cloudy, girls," observed Mr. Jordan as he came over to meet them. "But I don't think it will actually storm before night. Are you going far?"

"To a place called 'Sunny Hills'," replied Louise, producing her map. "In Colorado."

The man studied it for a few minutes, and then pointed out their best course.

"And your plane's O.K.," he added. "She certainly is a neat little boat."

"I'm fond of her myself!" replied Linda, her eyes shining as they always did when she spoke of her most precious possession.

"And have you had any word from Mr. Mackay?" asked Louise.

"Yes. He's coming back today," answered Mr. Jordan. "I sent a plane for him, with the letter you suggested. The pilot wired last night that he arrived safely, and both men would be back on the job tomorrow."

"He didn't say anything about the detectives?"

"Not a word."

"Then everything must be all right!" breathed Linda, with a sigh of relief.

"Well, good-by," concluded Mr. Jordan, as the girls stepped into their plane. "And fly carefully. That's rather lonely country you're passing over."

"But the skies are safe!" returned Linda, as she started her motor.

It was indeed a more desolate stretch of land than any they had flown over before. The girls noticed this as they sped on, the miles piling up in rapid succession.

This time they carried no lunch, for they had hesitated to ask at the hotel, and as the hours passed, they grew very hungry. Moreover, the sky was so cloudy that the sun was totally obscured, and they had to be guided entirely by instruments. Two or three times they seemed to get off their course, and it was almost five o'clock when they finally landed at an airport and inquired their way to Sunny Hills.

"It's about five miles north," they were told. "But wouldn't you rather leave your plane and taxi over?" their informer suggested.

"No, thanks," replied Linda. "Because we want to have our plane there, to use it if we need it, and to show to our friends. But we would love to have something to eat, if you can tell us where there is a stand for refreshments."

While the man was leading them to a sandwich booth, a mechanic came up and filled the plane with gas, and at Linda's request, looked it over hastily. Fifteen minutes later the girls took off again, having been assured that there was a field for landing at Sunny Hills, because, it seemed, the owner—or possibly the owner's son—had a plane.

As they descended over the field in back of the huge country house that was the home of the Stillmans the girls observed numerous people running out of the doors and from the porches to be on hand to welcome them. By the time they had landed, Louise counted seventeen.

"Hello, everybody!" she shouted, as the noise of the motor died. "Get our wire?"

"Surest thing!" answered a man of about thirty, tall and heavily-built, and smiling.

An elderly woman was pressing through the throng, holding out her arms to Louise.

"Aunt Margaret!" cried the girl, rapturously. "I'm so glad to see you! And I want to introduce my chum—Linda Carlton."

"I am more than delighted to meet you, my dear," said Mrs. Stillman, pressing Linda's hand—"I am proud to meet you!"

"Thank you," murmured the girl, her eyelids fluttering in embarrassment, for she felt that as yet she had done nothing to merit praise.

"And now I'll tell you everybody's name," continued the older woman. "Though I know you can't possibly remember them."

She proceeded to introduce her friends and her children—the latter all younger than Roger, the man who had first spoken to them, and evidently her oldest son. There were four small children among the group, two of them grandchildren of Mrs. Stillman.

"I want you girls to use my hangar," offered Roger, immediately. "My plane's away getting repaired. So shall I put yours away for you?"

"Oh, thanks!" replied Linda, gratefully. "It's so nice to find another pilot—to do the honors, and the work!"

As the happy, noisy group walked with the two girls back to the house, they asked all sorts of questions at once, about the trip, the plane, the relatives back home. Louise and Linda answered as fast as they could, but finally gave up, laughing in their confusion.

"Now everybody stop talking!" commanded Mrs. Stillman, and though her tone was jovial, Linda could see at once that she meant what she said, and that she was used to being obeyed.

"Our brave flyers must be awfully tired, and this is no way to treat them, before they have even had a drink of water. Elsie," she nodded to a girl about Linda's age, "I want you to take the girls to their room, and I'll send up their suit-cases and some iced tea. And then they are going to have peace until dinner-time!"

"Oh, Aunt Margaret, we're not so tired," protested Louise. Still, the thought of a cool shower, iced tea, and a few minutes for a nap was very pleasant.

Elsie and Louise, who had been great friends when they were younger, spending several long, happy summers together, were both delighted at the chance of renewing their friendship. Linda, too, found Elsie charming, and the three girls were soon chatting merrily over their iced tea.

"I want you to tell me the news of your family first," said Louise. "And begin in order, so Linda can get them straightened out. I mean—which ones are married, and which have children, and all that sort of thing."

"Yes, do," urged Linda. "I only know Roger—because he is a pilot—and you, by name."

A knock at the door interrupted them, and when Elsie answered it, two young men brought in the girls' suit-cases.

"The twins," explained their sister. "Dan and David. It really isn't hard to tell them apart, if you look closely."

"I remember!" cried Louise. "Your hair is curlier, isn't it, Dan? And David has a broken finger."

"Righto," agreed the latter, holding up his finger for inspection, and keeping his eyes on Linda. He had fallen for her charms already.

"You're excused," said Elsie, tersely.

"With many thanks," added Linda, graciously.

"Now begin over again," urged Louise, when the boys had gone. She began to open the suit-cases and to pull out the negligees, so that they could be perfectly comfortable.

"Well," continued Elsie, settling back in the pretty cretonne-covered chair that matched all the furnishings of the lovely, yet simple bedroom, "you know Aunt Margaret, of course. Those other two elderly women are friends—no need for you to learn their names.

"Of us, Roger is the oldest—he's thirty-one—and he isn't married. He's had dozens of girls, but I think he loves being a bachelor. He goes in for all kinds of racing—motorboat, automobile, and now airplane. And he adores young girls. You want to watch your step, Linda, for we're always expecting him to marry all of a sudden sometime. To somebody a whole lot younger!"

Linda smiled, and Louise shook her head knowingly.

"Linda's wise," she remarked.

"And Anita's the next oldest," went on Elsie. "I guess you didn't recognize her, did you, Louise? The stout woman, with those two children clinging to her."

"No, I didn't!" exclaimed her cousin. "But remember, it's been ten years since our family were here. I do recall her now—she was a High School graduate that summer. And so thin!"

"Well, she's fat now, and so is her husband. You'll see him tonight—they're spending the summer here. They have two kids.... The twins come next—they're twenty-three, and then my other married sister Jennie. You remember Jen?"

"Naturally!"

"And I'm the baby!" concluded Elsie, cheerfully.

"But does that account for that whole crowd?" asked Linda. "Lou said she counted seventeen."

"Oh, the others were gardeners, and gardeners' children, and servants. There are twelve of us at dinner every night, with father and Anita's husband. And you girls will make fourteen."

"I always thought it would be wonderful to have a big family," sighed Linda. "My aunt and I live all alone, except once in a while when my father comes home."

"All the more reason why you should spend a couple of weeks with us!" urged Elsie, cordially.

"We'd love to, but we can't," answered Louise. "But we'll promise to come oftener, now that Linda has her Arrow."

"And that reminds me," put in Linda, "that we must call our folks."

Elsie handed her a telephone, which was on a little table beside the bed, and made her excuses and left them alone. It was almost time to dress for dinner.

Before the girls had answered the summons of the gong, the rain, which had been threatening all day long, came in torrents. But it did not dampen the spirits of the happy group that was gathered about the long table.

David Stillman, a starry-eyed young man with a serious expression, had managed to persuade his mother to let him sit next to Linda on her left, while Roger, the eldest, had naturally preËmpted the place on her right. The younger man, it seemed, believed her to be the ideal girl he had always dreamed of. He tried almost immediately to make her promise to play tennis with him, to go canoeing and swimming. Roger, on the other hand, saw two days' fun ahead of him, playing with the girls and the plane, and he made up his mind not to give his younger brother a chance.

Sizing up Linda immediately as a girl seriously interested in aviation, he began to talk on that subject, shutting out poor David completely. He told her about his plane, and the trips he had made, and the races he had won.

"But you are a new pilot, aren't you?" he asked her.

"Yes, why?" she asked. "Did I do anything wrong?"

"No, indeed! You fly like an old-timer. But what I mean is, you haven't gone in for any competitions yet, have you? Air-derbys, endurance flights—height records?"

"No, I haven't had time."

"But you will?"

"I don't know. I want to do something. But just what...."

"You have a wonderful opportunity," continued Roger. "Because you have ambition, and time, and youth—and enough money to back you." He paused to eat a generous slice of roast-beef. Unlike David, who was staring moodily at his plate and playing with his food, Roger ate with enormous appetite. "You see, the trouble with most of us is, that we haven't the time and the money. And the very rich are seldom ambitious."

"I am hoping to do something next year," Linda announced, slowly. "But not until I study some more."

"Wise girl!" was his comment. "I wish my kid brother—Dan—were of the same opinion. I can hardly keep him out of my plane—and he hasn't even a license. He's a perfect pest."

"Won't you please talk to me?" entreated a voice on the other side, and turning her head, Linda realized for the first time how she had been neglecting David.

"I'll give you all the rest of the dinner-time!" she said, laughingly. But the conversation at once became so general that she did not have a chance to keep her promise.

After dinner the rain abated, but nobody went out except Dan, who said he was always looking for adventure. But in such a crowd, they did not miss him; the young people danced and sang and played pool and ping-pong in the game-room.

They were just finishing some lemonade and cake which Mrs. Stillman had brought out for their refreshment, when a telegram arrived for Linda. Her mind flew instantly to Ted Mackay, wondering whether he had been arrested in spite of all her efforts to help him.

But the news proved worse than anything she had expected. It was from her aunt.

"Your father seriously hurt. Fly to ranch at once."

Helplessly, she handed the telegram to Mrs. Stillman, who read it aloud to the others. Heroically, Linda managed to keep from crying.

"Thank Heaven for the Pursuit!" cried Louise, who had her arms about her chum. "We'll get there in no time."

"Let me go with you," suggested Roger.

"No—thank you," stammered Linda, clinging to Louise. "I need Lou—more than anybody."

"Well, then, I'll map out your course for you," offered the young man. "It's strange country to you?"

"Yes. I've never been to this ranch before. Dad had another one that I used to visit, when I was a child." And she gave Roger the exact location.

Ten minutes later, with their arms still entwined, Linda and Louise went up to their room, having exacted a promise from Mrs. Stillman to waken them at five o'clock the following morning.