Now the documents which were the only proofs of the Misses Gates’s ownership of the land had been stolen!
“Does that mean our trip West is useless?” Doris asked.
“On the contrary, the quicker some authoritative person gets on the scene the better,” Mr. Force declared. “Unless the robbers are caught with the deeds on their person they will be in possession of the land.”
“Something must have suddenly turned up to make the property very valuable,” Doris observed.
“You are right, Doris,” Mr. Force agreed. “For some reason it is highly important to some unscrupulous man to get that land. Just why, we do not know.”
“I’ll bet a gold mine was discovered on it!” Marshmallow exclaimed.
“If a pie mine or some chocolate sundae wells were tapped, you’d probably take the deeds yourself,” Dave accused his friend jokingly.
“No, all I’d ask for would be a spoon,” the stout youth said dreamily. “It’s too bad there aren’t such things. You have made me strangely unhappy, Dave. I always thought this was a perfect world, but now I see it could be improved.”
“Oh, hush, you two!” Kitty cried, half in earnest. “Marshmallow doesn’t eat all the time. Please, Mr. Force, tell us what must be done.”
Mr. Force, who had lapsed into deep thought, looked up at the young people.
“If I could possibly get away myself I would go to Raven Rock at once,” he said. “But there is no way. The annual Community Chest drive is just about to begin and upon its success depends the well-being of the hospitals and charitable institutions of the city. I am director and treasurer. It would take four or five days before I could turn over the details to some other man.
“Mrs. Mallow, you have run your own affairs so competently I have every faith that you can help us by going with Doris and the others as planned, but sooner. Tomorrow, if you can.”
“Dave, tell Uncle Wardell—” Doris began.
The young man was bursting to give the information he had already imparted to the others.
“Mr. Force, a friend of mine, one of the country’s most competent pilots, is flying a tri-motor cabin to Raven Rock this week. I am going as his mechanic. He has invited us to go with him, all of us.”
Mr. Force’s face presented a study of mixed feelings.
“It sounds like Providence,” he said. “But also very dangerous. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes, Uncle,” Doris begged. “There is no danger—no more than by train. Think of the time we shall save!”
“The thieves may have had ready a stamped envelope in which to mail the stolen papers as soon as they reached a letter box,” Mr. Force mused. “Or they may have given them to confederates. Capturing them may not frustrate their plot. Tell me more about this pilot and the airplane.”
“Hooray!” shouted Marshmallow.
In a straightforward manner and without exaggeration Dave told Mr. Force of Pete Speary’s history, and the details of the new airplane.
“If Mrs. Mallow is willing, I will consent,” said Doris’s uncle.
“Oh, thank you!” Doris cried.
Then the young people turned eager and sparkling eyes upon Mrs. Mallow.
“I—really—flying!” she stammered. “But— well, I agree!”
“Then will you find out from your friend how soon he will start?” Mr. Force addressed Dave.
“Oh, Kitty!” exclaimed Doris. “Isn’t it wonderful? Come upstairs. I’ll pack at once!”
CHAPTER III
Locked Gates Again
“We shall have to travel light,” Doris spoke, throwing open bureau drawers and delving into their contents.
“I’m all packed,” laughed Kitty. “Or rather, I’m not unpacked, which is the same thing.”
“I wonder how long we shall stay,” Doris said, lifting an armful of dainty undergarments from drawer to suitcase.
“Not very long, if we are to be at Barry Manor on registration day,” Kitty reminded her.
“Won’t the girls be jealous!” exclaimed Doris. “Miriam Collins and Shirley Dawson won’t have half of the thrilling tales to tell about their vacations abroad, compared with ours right here.”
“Let alone flying out West,” Kitty added. “There,” commented Doris, “that’s that, I guess. That tweed suit, six wash dresses and the taffeta ought to do, with the sweaters and blouses. Oh, I forgot. We’ll probably have to do lots of riding!” She darted to a cedar chest and brought out a riding habit which was still swagger despite evidence of hard wear.
“Now, where can I put my boots? I know, I can roll up these undies and stuff them inside, and put my comb and brush and things in them, too,” and suiting actions to words Doris soon had her packing completed.
“X have no such problem,” Kitty commented. “My habit has long trousers and jodhpur halfboots. Dad gave me the outfit last Christmas.”
“I remember,” Doris said. “You look stunning in them, too, Kit. I need new things, but we have not had very much money to count on. But there, now I’m packed and ready. What shall we do until it is time to leave?”
As chimes sounded downstairs to announce dinner, Kitty laughed. “There’s the answer for a part of our spare time.” ‘
“I hope Dave comes back soon with the information about the plane,” Doris said, as the two girls left the room.
“Or even without it, I dare say,” Kitty commented wickedly.
“Well, of course I’d like to see Dave any time, even if he didn’t bring such exciting invitations.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Kitty added pointedly.
“I’m surprised you’ve noticed Dave at all with Marshmallow around,” laughed Doris. “Oh, don’t misunderstand me! I only mean that Marsh is so fat you can’t see Dave.”
“Marshall is not fat at all,” defended Kitty. With such good-natured teasing the girls entered the dining room, where Marshmallow was waiting behind Kitty’s chair.
“Mr. Force is not feeling well enough to eat,” Mrs. Mallow said, entering the room and seating herself. “No, don’t bother, Doris. I have sent Chloe up with a tray for him, to coax his appetite.” Even Marshmallow had not yet dipped his spoon into his soup when there was a ring at the doorbell and, without further ceremony, Dave admitted himself.
“Come right in and sit down for some dinner,” Mrs. Mallow greeted him.
“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize—” the youth began in embarrassment. “I hurried back to tell Mr. Force that Pete will take off early day after tomorrow.”
“Come join us just the same,” Mrs, Mallow urged. “Take Mr. Force’s place. He will not be with us tonight.”
The tempting odor of a savory soup was wafted to Dave’s nostrils and completed the invitation.
“I really feel foolish, popping in right at dinner time like this,” he said, as he sat down. “But your meals are nothing to refuse with any sincerity, Mrs. Mallow.”
Between mouthfuls Doris and Kitty plied Dave with questions, and between mouthfuls he answered them. To Marshmallow there was no such thing as “between mouthfuls,”