The airplane had fallen not far from the race track, but the girls could not see the wreckage, for hundreds of persons had crowded about the spot. In vain they endeavored to push through.
“We must get to them!” Doris cried frantically.
An ambulance, its siren crying out a warning to those in its path, came rattling through the gate. The crowd was forced to bredk away.
“Quick!” Doris ordered. “Jump on the running board!”
As the ambulance moved slowly through the crowd, she sprang up on the side, Kitty following her example.
“Hey, get down!” they were sharply ordered.
“Our friends were in that crash!” Doris panted. “We’ve got to get to them!”
A moment later the ambulance came to an abrupt halt, and the girls dropped off. They steeled themselves for the first glimpse of the wreck. The plane resembled so much kindling wood; the wings had been neatly severed, the propeller smashed, the fuselage crushed in. A man lay groaning on the earth not far away and several persons were endeavoring to lift him.
Doris was afraid to look, yet she must know the worst. She moved nearer until she caught a glimpse of the bruised face. It was neither Marshmallow nor Dave!
Frantically she searched the crowd about the wrecked ship. If the boys had been in the crash, what had become of them? Had they been killed outright?
Suddenly she caught sight of Dave and gave a little cry of joy. At the sound he turned, saw her, and rushed to her side.
“Dave! Dave!” Doris cried, clutching him tightly by the arm. “You’re not dead! Oh, I’m so thankful!”
“I’m very much alive,” Dave laughed, “and I, too, am thankful. Had a mighty narrow escape.”
“Marshmallow!” Kitty exclaimed. “Is he—?”
“Not hurt a particle. He’s so roly-poly that when we struck the ground, he just bounced.”
“Where is he?”
Even as she spoke, Kitty saw Marshmallow coming toward her. The usual smile had been wiped from his face, but otherwise he appeared very much the same. The clothing of both young men was soiled and torn, and Dave had an ugly scratch across his left cheek.
“Oh, Marshall,” Kitty cried anxiously, “when we saw that ambulance we were afraid you had both been killed!”
“Not us,” the plump lad returned proudly. “We’re too tough to kill.”
“The pilot is badly injured?” Doris questioned, shuddering as she saw the ambulance attendants lift him upon the stretcher.
“I don’t think so,” Dave told her soberly. “His leg is broken and he’s badly shaken up, but otherwise he seems to be all right.”
“The old crate is sure a wreck, though,” Marshmallow observed. “I guess we were lucky to get out the way we did.”
“Lucky!” Doris exclaimed. “It was nothing less than a miracle. What’happened, anyway?”
“Engine failure,” Dave told her. “If I’d been at the controls, I believe I could have brought the plane down safely, but the pilot became excited. Crowds were milling about over the field, and in trying to pick out a landing place he lost control of the ship completely. We just crashed.”
“And how!” Marshmallow added slangily. “I think it jarred loose my wisdom tooth.”
“Your wisdom tooth!” Kitty chided. “If you had one, you wouldn’t have gone up in that plane.”
“It was a foolish thing to do,” Dave agreed soberly. “I’ve always known that one takes a risk flying with these barnstormers. I guess I let my enthusiasm get the best of me. It was my fault entirely.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Marshmallow chimed in. “I thought of the idea.”
“At any rate, the ride was expensive at the price, and we didn’t pay a cent.”
Assured that the pilot was to be taken immediately to the hospital, Doris and her friends hurriedly left the grounds for they did not wish to be annoyed by reporters or curious persons.
“I guess we’d better go home and change clothes,” Dave declared, leading the way to the parked car. “Are you girls ready to go back?”
“I am,” Kitty announced, clinging anxiously to Marshall’s arm. She could not convince herself that he really had escaped unhurt.
Doris hesitated. She had hoped to call again at Frank McDermott’s office before returning to the camp. Reading this thought, Dave quickly assured her that if she wished to remain he would return for her in an hour.
“Then if you don’t mind, I shall stop to see the lawyer,” she said in relief. “My vacation is fast slipping away, and if I don’t get busy soon, I’ll be forced to return home without my inheritance.” Accordingly, Dave dropped her at McDermott’s office, promising that he would not fail to return after he had made himself more presentable. Scarcely had she said goodbye to her friends when she was startled to hear her name called. Wheeling about, she saw Mr. Baker.
“What are you doing in this end of town?” he demanded pleasantly.
Doris explained her mission, adding that she was somewhat timid about accosting the lawyer.
“I’ll go along with you, if you like,” the old gentleman volunteered. “I know Frank McDermott, though I’m not proud of the acquaintance. I’ll introduce you.”
“You did once before,” Doris reminded him with a smile.
“So I did. Well, another introduction may not be amiss.”
The two entered the office together and Mr. Baker’s presence did give t)oris more confidence. The stenographer informed her that the lawyer was in and would see her in a few minutes.
After perhaps a quarter of an hour the inside office door swung open, and McDermott stepped out into the waiting room. He greeted Doris pleasantly, and after Mr. Baker had explained that she wished to see him on legal business, escorted her to his private room. Mr. Baker, who had no desire to appear inquisitive, withdrew. Doris would have preferred that he remain, for, while the lawyer was very polite, she felt uneasy in his presence.
Quietly she told her story. Mr. McDermott made no comment until she had finished, but while she was speaking his eyes bored into her in a most unpleasant manner. Doris felt that he was reading her very thoughts, and perhaps for that reason did not tell him all of the details of the case. She spoke of Joe Jeffery who had been sent to prison for his attempt to cheat the Misses Gates, but made no mention of her interview with the man who was head of the bank.
As she mentioned the criminal’s name, she saw a strange expression pass over the lawyer’s face, the significance of which was not clear to her.
“So that’s why I haven’t heard from him lately,” McDermott muttered under his breath.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I was just mumbling to myself,” the lawyer said, smiling blandly. “A bad habit of mine.”
He fell into a moody silence, and after a few moments Doris was forced to remind him of her presence.
“I thought perhaps you could help me clear up the affair, Mr. McDermott. That’s why I came to you.”
“My dear Miss Force, I shall do all in my power to aid you, but I am afraid I can tell you nothing of your uncle.”
Doris looked at him somewhat sharply, almost suspiciously.
“But surely you know of John Trent! Mr.
Cooke at the