CHAPTER IThe Skybird Hops Off

With a loud sputtering roar, something like Terry Mapes’ own feelings at that moment, Skybird, her little blue-and-gold airplane sprang forward and taxied over the flying field, taking the air gracefully as a leaping horse, under the guidance of its youthful pilot.

Terry Mapes was working off steam. Half angry, half frightened, the girl knew that a flight in her plane was the quickest way to get hold of her nerves and make her head clear for thinking what was to be done.

“Those boys!” she muttered between close-pressed lips. “What’s happened to them now? Starting out for a flight to Paris and not even getting to Newfoundland!”

Over and over again that terrifying report, “Missing,” kept ringing in her ears. Allan and Syd missing! She could picture a crack-up easily for the two boys. While they knew how to handle their planes skilfully, they were inclined to be reckless and were always taking chances.

Pulling back on the stick, Terry sent the plane zooming, one thousand feet, two thousand! Far beneath her she could see her father’s flying field at Elmwood, and from that distance it looked as if the hangars had been flattened against the ground. Beyond was the Sound, a broad strip of water with what appeared to be toy boats on its glassy smooth surface.

Far to the right were estates, wooded tracts of land, small towns and villages connected by tiny thread-like highways to the large city in the distance.

Terry loved to fly. She was never so happy as when she was zooming to a lofty height. Her brown eyes were glowing, her ivory skin was flushed to rose as she handled the controls of her little plane. Terry claimed that the higher she flew above the earth, the better she could think and plan. But today Terry’s brain was in a whirl. She could think of a dozen different kinds of accidents, any one of which might have happened to the boys.

Allan Graham and Syd Ames had started out on the first lap of their transatlantic flight. They had been reported all along the route until well over the Canadian border. Then they had disappeared, been swallowed up.

And at Dick Mapes Flying Field, their friends anxiously awaited word.

Twelve hours overdue at Harbor Grace!

Then it was that Terry took her plane into the clouds to think out a way to help. What could she do?

Her white face told how much she cared for those two young friends, her father’s first student flyers. At the thought that there might be two more names added to the long list of missing aviators, Terry’s heart sank with fear. She could see Allan’s tall figure, his clear blue eyes and his thatch of unruly blond hair. Terry never knew how dear Allan was to her until that report had come, “Missing!” And Syd Ames had been like a brother to her. She liked this boy with the laughing brown eyes. His fun-loving disposition had saved them from utter despair at times, when everything was going wrong. A groan escaped Terry’s lips as she thought of these boys who might at that very moment be lying crushed and needing help.

But Terry had not come aloft to moan over the imaginary fate of her friends. She knew they must have had an accident or they would have reached the airport long before this. They might be injured.

What could she do?

What would her father, Dick Mapes, have done if he had not been crippled and left helpless by a fall in his plane, two years ago?

“Why Dad would go out and find them!” she exclaimed to herself. “And that’s what I’ll do. I’ll go to Newfoundland and look for them.”

This decision was natural for the daughter of a flyer. And the idea once fixed in her mind Terry did not waste time in further plans. She put her plane into a fast dive. The girl found it hard to come down in her usual way. She wanted to do reckless things. Take chances! But Terry was well trained by her father. She took the long dive with open throttle. She straightened out, banked and spiralled but not for a second did she take a chance with her plane. She would need Skybird to help her in her search.

As she headed toward the flying field she remembered with satisfaction that she had just overhauled her plane the previous day. It seemed that, even then, she must have known that it would be needed. As soon as she put in a supply of gas and oil, it would be ready for the long trip north.

Terry set her plane down neatly on the field in front of the hangar. Skybird settled down like a great seagull with outspread wings. Stepping lightly over the cowling, Terry ran to the veranda of the cottage adjoining the flying field where Dick Mapes sat in a wheel chair. His face was deathly pale, stern and drawn with suffering. His hands opened and then clutched at the arms of his chair, nervously.

“Dad, dear,” said Terry, quietly yet with determination in her voice. “I’m starting out to find the boys.”

Dick Mapes looked into his daughter’s face. He seemed to be measuring the girl, deciding whether she was equal to the task ahead of her. What he saw assured him that Terry would not fail. He could trust her not to take big chances. He held out his hand.

“When do you start?” he asked.

“Within an hour!” said Terry simply. “Skybird is in shape, I’ve been all over her!”

The father nodded his head. Between him and Terry there was no need for many words. They understood each other.

“I wish to goodness Bud Hyslop hadn’t chosen this time to go off on a vacation,” exploded Terry, her big brown eyes snapping. “When we want that fellow around, he’s never here, and when we don’t want him he sticks like a burr. He isn’t much good at any time but now he could take care of the field while I’m away. I hate to leave you alone, Dad.”

“Don’t worry about me, Terry.” Dick put out his hand and let it rest for a moment on his daughter’s curly brown locks. “The boys’ safety is more important than business. If they are in trouble, they’ll need us. Why, oh why do I have to be tied to this chair when...!”

“Now Dad, just you thank your stars that you are getting well! Six months ago it looked pretty hopeless. Now the doctor says that inside of a year you can walk and be back in the flying game again. Think of that, Dad! Won’t that be fine?”

“Yes, I know, Terry, but it’s hard to sit here, just a useless lump, when Allan and Syd are out somewhere....”

“I’m on my way, Dad. I’ll find them somehow. Probably they have been forced down with engine trouble. You know those boys are frightfully reckless.”

“Yes, that’s what makes me so worried about them. I never could teach them to be cautious. If it were you, Terry, I would feel almost certain that you’d find a way out of your trouble.”

“Thanks, Dad!” The girl stooped and kissed her father tenderly. Then with a smile she ran into the house.

While Dick assented to Terry’s plan with very few words, her mother wanted long explanations. Where and how was Terry to carry out her plans? What would she do if she found the boys injured? How would she get them home?

“I don’t know yet,” replied Terry. “Ask Dad, he’ll explain everything!” Terry hurried to the stairway and called, “Prim, come here. Get into your flying togs. Pack food and water and the first-aid outfit. We are going to find Allan and Syd and they may be in bad shape.”

Terry delivered orders like a general and Prim, her twin sister obeyed like a private in the ranks. She did not stop to ask questions. Terry’s commands were always important—or interesting.

The two girls were opposites. Terry was tall for her age, slightly built, high-strung and nervous, while Prim was inclined to be plump and rosy. Her blond hair was cut short to her head. She had none of the fire of Terry’s disposition. She sort of balanced her sister’s temper, for Prim was easy-going, practical and diplomatic. She could get along with any one, while Terry with her quick tongue was always getting into trouble and making enemies. The two sisters were chums. They loved to be together. They liked to do the same things, and while Prim would never make the expert flier her sister was, she enjoyed the sport and was always ready to follow Terry’s lead.

Terry’s decision to go north and hunt for the boys did not come as a surprise to Prim. She had been half expecting it. Her whole heart was crying out with the need to do something for these boys whom they loved, and now she wondered why Terry had not thought of it at once.

Prim needed no instructions regarding her part of the work to be done. A thermos bottle of hot coffee, bandages and food were packed into the plane, then Prim ran to get into her flying outfit. It was a jaunty flying suit, a white fleece-lined jacket, and baggy breeches, high white boots and helmet to match. Prim was fond of dress and her white togs were always in order. Terry had chosen a more practical outfit of brown leather. It was trim and smart and Terry carried it well. She had style.

Terry had left the details of supplies to Prim, knowing that her sister’s part would be done well. She hurriedly examined her plane, looked over the instrument board to see that everything was in order, tested the engine, took on a supply of gas and oil and in less than an hour was all set and ready to go.

Alice Mapes could never see her two daughters take-off without a feeling of dread. She had none of the confidence of the flyer. Although she had flown with her husband ever since her marriage she could never be persuaded to take the controls herself and learn to fly.

“I’m just an old-fashioned housewife and why try to make me into anything else?” she pleaded with Dick when he tried to urge her. The fearlessness of her modern daughters frightened her. She was always afraid when she was in the air, much preferring to stay on the ground.

Terry saw her look of anxiety now.

“Come on, Mother. Send us away with a smile. I know you’re going to wish us luck, but we need your confidence as well. We’re perfectly safe. And remember, if there is any message for us, telegraph to Harbor Grace.”

With a smile and a wave of her hand, Terry stepped into the plane. Prim spun the propellor and the motor roared. With a bound Prim jumped into the rear cockpit.

Skybird headed into the wind as she taxied along the field and Terry, pulling back gently on the stick, sent the little plane into the air. She circled the field twice for goodbye, then she began to climb and took her course northward.

Alice Mapes slipped into the chair beside her husband. Her face was white. Her hands were trembling.

“Do you suppose it’s all right for them to go?” the mother asked, her voice husky with anxiety.

“I’d trust Terry anywhere in a plane,” Dick Mapes answered confidently. “And if anyone can find the boys, she can.”

Long after Skybird had disappeared, Alice and Dick Mapes sat gazing into the clouds, as if they could follow their daughters all the way to their journey’s end.

Dick was calm and hopeful and patted his wife’s hand reassuringly as she voiced her fears.

If the father could have foreseen the danger and treachery that was awaiting the girls, he might not have been so serenely confident of their success.

CHAPTER IIThwarted Plans

Dick Mapes had started in as a flyer when the game was new. For years he had been an air mail pilot and then had established a field of his own for training and commercial flying.

The Dick Mapes Flying Field began with great promise, for Dick was acknowledged to be one of the best aviators in the country and people had confidence in him.

At first Dick had been terribly disappointed that he had no son to follow him in his glorious profession. But on Christmas when Terry and Prim were three years old, Alice had given them each a rosy-cheeked doll while Dick had presented them with toy airplanes. Terry took one look at the doll and thrust it aside carelessly, but the airplane she hugged in her tiny arms, and squealed with delight. The less demonstrative Prim calmly laid aside the plane and rocking back and forth sang a lullaby to her doll.

“Terry’s a chip off the old block,” said Alice with a laugh. “You’ll be trying to make a flyer out of her.”

“That’s an idea!” replied Dick as he watched the child intently. “There’s a great future for women flyers, I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dick Mapes! I was only saying that in fun. One flyer in the Mapes family is plenty. Besides women will soon get tired of this dangerous sport.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, Alice. I’d like to have Terry learn to fly and know all there is to know about airplanes. That is if she takes to it.”

And Terry really started her training the next day. Dick put her into his big plane and placed her tiny hands on the controls. Although the motor was still, the child screamed with delight and pulling back on the stick cried, “Up, up!”

Dick hugged her to him. “You’ve got a great life ahead of you, little daughter,” he said. “That’s right, you are a chip off the old block. You’re like your Dad, you’re a born flyer.” And from that time on, Terry played in Dick’s big airplane whenever her father could spare the time necessary to watch her play.

Prim was her mother’s girl, more home-loving, and not nearly so full of spirit.

“We’ll make a flyer of her, too,” declared Dick, not wanting to be partial. “But I doubt if she’ll take to it the way Terry does. I think Terry has a talent for flying.”

Alice laughed heartily at this joke, for how could Dick tell at that age whether Terry would be able to fly a plane or not?

But Dick was right. As the girls grew older, Terry took to flying as a duck takes to the water, but with Prim it was always hard work and while she had done the necessary solo flying to entitle her to a pilot’s license, Dick was never quite sure of her. She did not love flying as Terry did. She had an indifference to things that frightened him.

But to Terry it was the breath of life. She had the air sense which her twin sister lacked.

At sixteen Terry not only was an expert flyer but was a good mechanic as well. And in the venture of the flying field, Dick called her his “right hand man” and declared that she could do more work and understood more about planes than Bud Hyslop, his helper.

Allan Graham and Syd Ames had been Dick’s first student flyers. And for that reason he felt as if they belonged to him. Syd was an orphan, the son of a flying buddy of Dick’s, and the boy spent most of his time in the Mapes household.

Allan was the son of a wealthy business man and the boy had persuaded his father to back Dick financially. Bennett Graham only half believed in the plan. He didn’t like flying and he wished with all his heart that Allan would choose some other profession. He even blamed Dick Mapes for encouraging the boy to continue against his will.

However Allan, this sturdy, broad shouldered youth, usually got his own way. And what he wanted now from his father was a partnership in the Dick Mapes Flying Field.

Dick had secured an option on a large tract of land belonging to Peter Langley, a strange old man, who lived at his small silver mine in Peru. He had given little thought to this strip of land that he owned, for it had been considered waste until the airplane brought about a new use for it.

With the option settled, Bennett Graham finally put up money for transport planes and agreed to stand back of Dick’s venture until success was certain.

As Dick had been a lucky pilot, he had no difficulty in getting contracts for his airplane transportation service. Everything looked good. Success was certain.

Then had come the crash!

Dick had gone over his plane thoroughly before starting out on an important trip. The plane was in order, the engine running true. Then half an hour later Dick had crashed.

At the hospital his wife and daughters looked on his still form and were given no hope of his recovery. “And if he lives, he’ll be a cripple for the rest of his life,” the doctors had predicted. “A wheel chair is all he can hope for.”

“Pray, Allan, pray that Dad will die,” Terry whispered with a sob as Allan put his arm tenderly about her. “Death would be better, far better, than a broken body. He mustn’t live! I could never bear to see Dad in a wheel chair!”

Allan caught her meaning. He could understand. A flyer who had piloted a plane through the sky, had shot up above the clouds and been alone in the heavens, would never be happy in a wheel chair. Looking down at the death-like face of his friend, Dick Mapes, Allan too prayed that he might die.

But Dick Mapes did not die. His recovery was like a miracle, so the doctors said, and while he stormed at the wheel chair, even that was only to be for a little while. A famous specialist gave him promise of being able to walk and get back to flying within a few years.

Allan Graham and Syd Ames carried on the business as well as they could, but new contracts did not come as rapidly as when Dick was in charge.

Then, for some reason, after the accident, Bennett Graham suddenly lost what little enthusiasm he had and refused any further help, even intimated that he wanted to withdraw his offer of standing behind Dick’s field.

Allan pleaded with his father. But it was no use. Then the father, in his turn, tried to persuade the son to leave the Mapes Field.

“Break loose and I’ll start you in a field of your own,” promised the father. “You’ve nothing to gain by sticking to Dick. He’s down and out, a failure, a cripple, and it’s my opinion that he’ll never be any better.”

“No!” answered Allan. “I couldn’t break away now. Anyway I want to work with him. I want to make the field a success. I’m his partner.”

“If you want a partnership, why not go in with a promising young business man like Joe Arnold whose field is next to Dick’s?” suggested Bennett Graham. “Arnold’s a good flyer and all he needs is more room out there.”

Allan snorted in disgust. “Joe Arnold! I hate that fellow! He’s not a square-shooter. No one on our field has any respect for him.”

“That’s jealousy. It’s well known that Joe Arnold is making a lot of money and will be a big man in the aviation field some day. Think it over and don’t let a big opportunity like this slip by. If you decide to go in with Joe Arnold I’ll back you for any amount you need, but I have no more faith in Dick Mapes.”

Allan thought over his father’s refusal for a long time then went straight to the point.

“What’s the matter with Dick Mapes? What have you got against him? You seem to have no confidence in him.”

“That’s right, son. I have lost faith in him. I’ve had some very unfavorable reports about him.”

“What have you heard?” Allan demanded. “It’s only fair to tell me.”

“It’s something serious, you may be sure, or I would never take the stand I do. But at the present time I do not care to say what it is. Enough for you to know is that he is incompetent.”

“That’s nonsense. Father. You know that his record in the air service has been almost perfect. This is the first serious accident. And it’s the first plane he ever crashed since he got his license.”

But even Allan could not deny that since Dick had established his field one thing after another had happened that might have come from carelessness. There had been minor accidents, forced landings with engine trouble that had delayed delivery of goods. A plane had burned on the field under suspicious circumstances.

Bennett Graham reminded the boy of these mishaps.

“But you know well enough that it was not from any carelessness of Dick’s that the plane was burned,” retorted Allan.

“Why wasn’t it? How do you explain the matter? You said yourself the circumstances were suspicious. How do you clear Dick of responsibility?” asked his father.