Briefly Linda told him the facts of her story—about the stolen planes, which had since been regained, and the forged check for five thousand dollars. But she said nothing about the part in the talking-picture, or of the girl’s having taken her name. There was no reason, she felt, for emphasizing that point or drawing publicity to herself.
“So we think this couple have sailed,” she concluded. “Though under what name, we don’t know. Probably neither Sprague nor Bower, but something else, to fool us, and throw the police off the track. Our first desire is to find out what big vessels have left this vicinity today or yesterday.”
“I’ll get in touch with the docks immediately,” the man assured her. “Though I think can tell you myself. A vessel named the ‘Mona’ left here yesterday for Hawaii. There isn’t another until day after tomorrow, which sails for South America.”
Linda’s eyes shone with excitement.
“Hawaii!” she exclaimed. “I always did want to fly the Pacific!”
“You wouldn’t try it!” he cried, in horror.
“Why not?” she demanded. “It’s only a matter of about two thousand miles—less than a non-stop flight across the United States. And I have a marvellous plane.”
“You mean—this?” he asked, pointing to the Sky Rocket.
“Yes. She’s a marvel, even if she has only one motor. She can make a hundred and fifty miles an hour, and is equipped with all the newest inventions and improvements.”
“I can see that.... But the danger—in any kind of plane,” he remonstrated. “No woman has ever attempted it, and plenty of airmen have found a watery grave in the Pacific.”