Grabbing her companion's arm, Linda ran forward eagerly. When they were within fifty yards of it, she knew that it was the very plane they were seeking.
"It is! Oh, Ralph! Even the license number—so I'm sure! Remember? Look! Do you suppose that man was killed?"
"Would serve him right!" muttered the boy, resentfully. "Stealing a necklace, and crashing a plane that wasn't his! But let's go over and have a peep at him—there's the ambulance."
The crowd, which was still gathering, although the field was in an isolated spot, was being held back by a policeman, for the ambulance was ready to start. Ralph dashed forward, anxious to get a look at the thief before it departed.
"Not that we could claim the necklace now," he explained to Linda, whose arm he was holding, "for we haven't any proofs of our ownership. But at least we could warn the cop to look out for it."
"Back! Back!" shouted the officer, for the driver was tooting his horn.
"Oh, please wait a minute!" begged Linda. "Please let me see the man who is inside!"
The policeman regarded the girl doubtfully, but she was so eager in her pleading that he thought perhaps she had a good reason. Perhaps the man inside the ambulance meant something to her; he decided to grant her request.
"Take a look, miss," he agreed. "But be quick about it."
Stepping ahead of Ralph, Linda climbed upon the back step of the car, and peered anxiously into it, past the white-clad interne, to the unconscious figure on the stretcher. Suddenly she started violently, and clung to the door of the ambulance for support. It was incredible, impossible! Her knees shook, her hands fell to her side, and she swayed backward in a faint. In an instant Ralph's arms were around her; he carried her out of the crowd.