“Sure you can. Mr. Clavering’s going to rent a lot of planes, so anybody with a pilot’s license to fly can enter, and take a passenger. And there’s a bully prize—Oh, I’m not going to tell what it is! And a dinner at the end of the hunt—maybe a week-end party!”
“Here’s where we girls with licenses score!” cried Dot, triumphantly. “We can do the inviting, for once!”
“As if you didn’t always do the picking and choosing!” muttered Ralph. He would have his autogiro by that time, but, of course, Linda Carlton wouldn’t go with him. Not an independent young lady like her!
“I’m not worried,” drawled Jim Valier, Dot’s devoted boy friend, as he reached for his sixth chicken-salad sandwich, although so far he had only eaten one. “Dot’s got to take me—and I won’t have to do any work. Just share the glory!”
Dot’s chin went up in the air.
“I believe I’ll ask a girl—they’re more reliable,” she retorted. “Sue, will you go with me?”
Sue whimpered; she would rather go with a man, but an invitation was an invitation, and she didn’t want to be left out.
“I’d hate to be so mean to Jim,” she replied. “You better let him go.”
“You come with me, Miss Emery,” urged Frank Lawlor, the young man who was seated at her right, and who was an experienced flyer.
“Thank you—I’d love to, Mr. Lawlor,” she murmured, gratefully.