Before the cowboy could reply Dora had continued reading, “Polly has told you that I’m goofy about H. H. but don’t you believe a word of it. I picked him out for you, Mary, so take him and be grateful.”
Dora wanted to look up at Jerry, but was afraid it would be too pointed, so she turned a page and exclaimed with interest, “Aha, here we have him in person. The Seagull’s photograph no less.”
It was an amusing snapshot. Under it was written, “Patsy Ordelle introducing Harry Hulbert to Mary Moore and Dora Bellman—also the ship.”
A pert, pretty girl with windblown hair and laughing eyes was pointing toward the youth at her side, who, dressed in flying togs, stood by his ship. He was making a bow, evidently to acknowledge the introduction, and so his face was not fully revealed. This was remedied by another snapshot of the boy alone standing with one hand on his graceful silver plane. Although not good looking, really, he had a fine, sensitive face, was slenderly built and had keen alert eyes.
“Now I’ll turn the mike over to Polly,” the pert handwriting ended. The languid scrawl took up the tale.
“Guess I was wrong about Pat’s being dippy about the silver aviator. He’s been gone two days and she’s been canoeing with ‘The Poet’ from ‘Crow’s-Nest-Camp’ up in the hills from dawn till dark and even by moonlight. For a once-was boy-hater, she’s going some.
“Well, say hello to Harry for us. He really is a decent kid. Write us the minute he lands. Wish I’d thought to send you a batch of fudge I’d made. Nuts are just crowded in it. Oh, well, up so near the sun it would probably have melted. Tra-la for now.
From Poll and Pat.”
Mary looked thoughtfully at, Jerry. “If Harry Hulbert left the Atlantic coast two days before this letter started, he must be in Arizona by now.”
“I reckon so. A mail pilot makes it in less than three days.”