CHAPTER VI
KIDNAPED
As Roberta attended strictly to her business she became thoroughly convinced that her “hunch” regarding her employer was well worth heeding; that the woman’s mission was not only mysterious and confusing, but that it was an enterprise with which she did not care to be associated a minute longer than that she could possibly help. Following the course set, going higher when the country beneath them demanded it, or lower as permitted, she thought things out carefully. Nike did not carry gas enough to take her back to Long Island, but she had money enough with her to drop down onto a landing field and purchase more; also she knew that even if she hadn’t the cash she could give them a draft on her bank in New York if they were not willing to accept a check.
Carefully studying the chart, which she knew almost by heart anyway, she realized that the route they were following was, for the most part, well out of the usual air lines, but there were several places where she would fly parallel or across those laid out. Roberta thought of the towns and cities over which they would pass, calculated their location and which ones she would be near early in the evening, when the woman beside her would probably order a landing. They had been flying nearly three hours when Mrs. Pollzoff glanced up at the speedometer.
“I wish that you would go a little faster,” she directed, so the Girl Sky-Pilot nodded and opened up a bit wider, but she did not put on full speed. They had been averaging eighty miles an hour, so she increased it to ninety-five, which meant that when conditions permitted she was doing more, and less when the air and country were not so favorable. Another hour passed and Roberta began to wonder when they were to come down, but Mrs. Pollzoff still seemed absorbed in her book, although Roberta was positive that she was not so intent as she was trying to pretend.
Glancing at the sky, Roberta saw, far ahead, a dark cloud rising in the west which looked as if it might cause them trouble in the course of a few hours, but she paid little attention to it for she figured they would have landed before the storm reached them, or they reached it. To get a better view of the world, she gradually increased her height a thousand feet. Roaring swiftly along she saw, far ahead of them, a large plane which looked like one which carried passengers, and another time, when her eyes rested a moment on the mirror, she saw a small plane behind them. This looked like an ordinary machine with one passenger—or perhaps no one but its pilot, and while she watched the tiny speck, it dropped lower and out of her range of vision.
Studying the chart again, without seeming to do more than observe the various controls the girl Sky-Pilot looked for the nearest flying field. In another hour they would be over Wisconsin, for the end of Lake Michigan was tossing beneath them, and on its rough surface raced a huge speed boat across the great body in exactly the same direction that Nike was flying a mile above. The water was thickly dotted with numerous boats, large and small, but this little one, which looked no bigger than a dark dot with a long foamy tail, attracted the girl’s attention because of its speed. Nike soon left it behind, however. Glancing about the horizon, she saw that they were well away from the storm, but she anticipated bad weather for the following day. A bit later, listening to the radio reports, this calculation of hers was confirmed by the Bureau from Washington.
From time to time Mrs. Pollzoff glanced up, studied the dials, chart and the whole array, for even if she hadn’t qualified for a license, and could not pilot a plane, it was not because she did not thoroughly understand every bit of flying. She just happened to be one of the persons whose knowledge on the subject was not sufficient to make her act wisely at all times in any emergency. Even though she never asked to carry a passenger, wanted nothing more than to fly herself, a plane in the air piloted by a man or woman who might behave erratically, was a menace to the world below. She might suddenly crash into a building, come down with a blazing machine in a dry forest and start a fire which would do countless dollars worth of damage, or she might drop on a gas tank and blow the whole vicinity to tooth-picks.
Suddenly, as Roberta visualized the chart she realized that it would not be very long, according to the course they were following and the speed they were going, before Nike crossed the border into Canada. She would be on foreign soil without the usual curtsy to the Dominion, also they were getting further and further away from Long Island and her own home. If she was not going to continue the trip, why not stop now? As a matter of fact, why had she come so far at all; why hadn’t she dropped down a couple of hours ago and informed Mrs. Pollzoff that she was not going on, land that lady wherever she wanted to be landed, then go on east? Silently scolding herself for her stupidity, the girl decided that if Mrs. Pollzoff did not order a descent within the next few minutes, Nike would make a landing without it. As if she rather suspected something of what was going on in her companion’s mind, Mrs. Pollzoff closed her book, looked about at the sun, which had almost set, then taking a package from under the seat, proceeded to open it. To Roberta’s surprise it contained food; it seemed enough for several generous meals, including thermos bottles with hot and cold drinks.
“We will have something to eat in the air,” the woman announced quite casually, but there was something deadly in her tone. However, Roberta had herself well in hand and she answered firmly.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Pollzoff, but I am going down,” she answered.