"Oh, that won't do!" exclaimed Louise. "Wait, Ralph, I'll fix everything. I'll get Harry to take Linda—he's crazy about her anyhow—and then I'll go with you."
"O.K., Lou. You're the little sport!"
"And fixer," added the girl, to herself, as she bade Ralph good-by, and called first Harry and then Miss Carlton.
Louise's suggestion seemed like an act of Providence to the older woman; it would have been mortifying indeed to her to have Linda appear at the ball without a masculine escort, as if the girl were a mere wallflower. Harriman Smith had been most agreeable about the whole arrangement; anything Louise decided suited him, he told her. And Linda, too, was delighted with the news.
She came out of her bedroom while her aunt was talking on the telephone, dressed in her flyer's suit.
"Where are you going dear?" inquired Miss Carlton, in anxious surprise.
"I'm going scouting," explained Linda. "I think I'll fly around—pretty low—and look for wrecks. I have a hunch that that thief has smashed his plane by now. He was such a poor pilot, you know I told you."
"Well, be careful," cautioned her aunt. "But so long as you fly low, I won't worry."
Linda smiled to herself. If Aunt Emily only realized how infinitely more dangerous it was to fly low than high!