Many thoughts raced through Linda's mind, as she and Louise sat beside the airplane, nibbling at their frugal supper. For this time, they had decided to eat sparingly; nobody knew how long they might have to stay there, without any more food.

But all of Linda's thoughts were regrets. Regret that her father had met with an accident, regret that Dan Stillman had borrowed her Arrow, regret that she was unable to locate the trouble herself and repair it.

Louise, with her usual practical cheerfulness, interrupted these gloomy meditations.

"We have three good hours of daylight left, Linda," she announced, glancing at her watch. "To try another direction. There must be a real road around here somewhere—where automobiles go. Texas isn't the end of the world."

"If we're actually in Texas!" returned Linda. "It may be Oklahoma, for all we know."

"But Oklahoma has roads, too. Come on, finish your cake! We must hurry."

Taking their coats along, for the night gave promise of being cooler, the girls set off in the opposite direction from the one they had taken that afternoon. This time they had to go right through the shrubbery—the dangerous shrubbery which had threatened disaster to their landing.

"This is awful!" exclaimed Louise, pausing to pull a brier from her sweater. "There can't be any road here."

"On the contrary, I think we'll be more likely to find one, once we get through this. The very fact that we can't see beyond is hopeful."

"That's true," admitted Louise, starting on again.

They walked for some time, carefully picking their way through the undergrowth, thankful that they were wearing breeches. At last they came to a more open space, and stopped to look about them.

"No road!" exclaimed Louise, in disappointment.

"But that looks like a stream over there, Lou—between those two banks!" cried Linda.

"Oh, if it only is! Then we could have a swim!"

"If we ought to take the time."

"I think we might as well, Linda, because it's going to get too dark for us to take a chance getting lost tonight. Let's have our swim and go back to the plane to sleep. Then tomorrow morning we'll start to hike—if we have to go all the way to the ranch on foot!"

"We won't have to do that, because we have plenty of money," Linda reminded her. "Once we get back to civilization, our dollars will be some good. And, even if we have to leave the Pursuit, and never see her again, it would be worth it to get to Daddy!"

Having come to this decision, the girls hurried rapidly towards the stream, and then, taking off their flyers' suits carefully, under cover of their coats, in case there should be some human being around, they both plunged in.

The water felt cold, and oh, so refreshing! They swam happily for some minutes, forgetful of all their worries, in the joy of the invigorating pastime.

When they had gone some distance, Linda suddenly realized how swift the current was, out in the middle of the creek. Already they were several hundred yards downstream.

"Lou!" she called. "We must be careful of this current!"

Her chum did not answer, and Linda suddenly experienced another sickening moment of dread. Suppose Louise were unconscious! She turned around, but she could not see the other girl.

However, the creek turned sharply at this point, and Linda reassured herself with the hope that Louise was beyond the bend. She swam in to where it was shallow enough for her to stand up, and cupped her hands and called.

"Lou! Oh, Lou!"

"Yes!" came the instant reply. "Around the bend."

Linda hurried around the cliff which separated her chum from sight, and there, to her amazement, she beheld a shattered airplane. The wings and the propeller were gone—had evidently been floated out on the stream and swept away on the current, and the plane itself was smashed to pieces. Louise was standing beside it, holding a man's coat in her hand.

"Ye gods!" cried Linda, shocked by the horror of such a wreck. "How terrible!"

But Louise was searching the pockets of the coat madly, excitedly, as if she had no thought for the man who had been killed.

"Look, Linda!" she cried triumphantly. "I had an inspiration it might be your thief! I've got it!"

"What?" demanded the other.

"The necklace!"

Both girls held their breath while Louise steadied her nervous fingers and opened the box—a cheap pasteboard affair, totally unlike the original one in which Kitty Clavering's pearls had been sold. To Linda's unbelieving eyes, she held up the costly jewels.

Louise dropped down on the ground, absolutely overcome with emotion, and Linda sat beside her, examining the necklace for herself, as if she could not believe her eyes. But there was no doubt about it; it was the real thing this time.

"That man didn't know much about flying," remarked Linda, finally. "I suppose, though, he realized that his only chance of escape lay in getting over the border.... But Lou, if his coat is here, why isn't he?"

"He probably took off his coat before anything happened. But his body may be somewhere in the wreckage. I—I'd just as soon not see it, wouldn't you, Linda?"

"Of course not," replied the other, with a shudder of repulsion. "Come on, Lou, let's go. But don't let's try to swim with that necklace. I'd rather walk."

"So would I."

Both girls scrambled to their feet, and started back towards their coats. Suddenly Linda stopped, horrified by what she saw. Over in a little cove, away from the main stream, were not one, but two bodies, half floating, half caught on the shore by the weeds and underbrush.

"It's the thief, all right," she managed to say. "And I wonder who the other man was."

Louise squinted her eyes; she had no desire to go any closer, and in the fading light it was hard to see clearly.

"He looks—as—if—he had red hair," she announced, slowly. "That would explain about the gasoline agent, who tried to put the blame on Ted Mackay."

"Of course!" cried Linda. "Isn't it all horrible? As if any necklace could be worth this! I wonder when it happened."

"Probably last night, during the storm. That would be too much for an inexperienced flyer."

"Of course."

The girls picked up their clothing and dressed hurriedly, reaching the plane just as it was beginning to get dark.

"Let's make a fire," suggested Linda, "and tell each other stories till we get sleepy. We mustn't try to go to sleep too early on this hard ground, especially after having had naps."

"Are you scared at all, Linda?" asked Louise.

"No. What of? Ghosts—or tramps?"

"Both."

"Well, I'm not afraid of tramps or robbers because I have my pistol—Daddy made me promise to take it with me on all my flights—and I'm just not going to let myself be worried about ghosts. After all, those two dead men deserved their fate, didn't they? And I mean to forget them. Now, tell me a story!"

"What about?"

"Some nice new novel you've read that I haven't."

So Louise began the story of "Father Means Well"—a very amusing book she had just finished, and the girls kept their camp-fire going until eleven o'clock. Then, when both were certain that they were sleepy, they spread out Louise's raincoat on the ground, and, crawling close together, put Linda's on top of them. Almost instantly they were asleep, forgetful of accidents and thieves, not to waken until the sun was brightly shining again.