Peggy awoke the next day with a feeling of distinct uneasiness. She and her aunt had sat up till after midnight awaiting Roy’s return, but, as we know, the lad was in a position from which he could not extricate himself. An attempt had been made to communicate with the aviation grounds, but an unlucky aeroplane had blundered against the telephone wire during an afternoon flight, snapping the thread of communication.
In spite of the late hour at which they had retired, however, Miss Prescott and her niece were up betimes. But early as it was they found the little town all astir. Excursion trains were already pouring their crowds into the place and the streets were fairly alive with humanity. Peggy’s first act on awaking was to gaze out of the window, beneath which some fine trees grew. Not a breath of wind stirred their leaves. The air was as clear and undisturbed as it was possible for it to be.
Donning a white duck skirt and a plain shirt waist, and dressing her hair in a becomingly simple style, Peggy hastened to the office of the hotel, and going to the telephone switchboard asked the operator to put her in communication with Roy’s room. But after several minutes spent in a vain attempt to obtain an answer Central had to inform the anxious girl that there was no reply.
Thinking that after his late absence of the night before Roy might have overslept, Peggy despatched a bellboy to his room. But the report came back that the room was empty and that Roy’s bed had not been slept in.
“See if you can get the executive office on the aviation grounds,” said Peggy to the ’phone girl. But although the wire had been repaired and communication was easily established, there was no news of Roy. Worse still for Peggy’s peace of mind, she learned now, for the first time, that there had been no meeting at the aviation field the night before.
“If your brother got a note to that effect it was a forgery,” said the official who answered the call.
Peggy fairly flew upstairs to her aunt’s room. Rapidly she informed Miss Prescott of what had happened.
“Oh, I’m certain now that that hateful Fanning Harding has something to do with it,” she almost sobbed.
“Hush, dear,” said her aunt, although in the gentle lady’s breast a great fear had arisen, “everything may be all right. At any rate, I do not believe that any one, no matter how anxious they were that you should not compete in the race, would dare to resort to such methods to keep Roy out of the contest.”
“I don’t know so much about that, auntie,” rejoined the girl. “I was in our hangar yesterday afternoon and I noticed a horrid looking man prowling about with Fanning Harding. If it had not been too improbable I should say that I knew the man’s face.”