“Mexico!”
“Yes. And I’m so afraid of bandits there.”
“Now, Emily, you’re judging Mexico by the movies. That sort of stuff has gone out long ago. Mexico City is as civilized as New York.”
“Mexico City—yes. But that isn’t where Linda’s telegram is from, and that isn’t where she’ll be. Trust her to find some lonely wilderness! Oh, I’m so worried. In fact, I’m packing now to go out to Los Angeles.”
Her brother sat down and lighted a cigarette.
“You might as well tell me the story,” he said.
Miss Carlton made it as brief as possible and showed her brother the telegrams she had received thus far. The man listened quietly, more worried than he cared to admit to his sister, but then and there he decided to go with her.
He would have preferred to fly by the commercial air-line, in order to save time, but since Miss Carlton stubbornly refused to get into a plane, he agreed to take the fast train on which she had already engaged passage.
A few hours later, just as they were about to leave the house, a very excited young man rushed into the living-room, without even waiting to ring the doorbell. It was Ralph Clavering, who always had the right to come and go as he pleased.
“I’ve just heard the news about Linda and Dot!” he exclaimed. “And so Jim Valier and I are flying to the coast in my autogiro immediately.”