“But that is contrary to the rules,” the attendant at the gate replied politely. “The cabin is small. A brief case is quite all right. But bags, no. If everyone took a bag inside, there’d be no getting about. We will give you a check for your bag. It will be locked in the baggage compartment. Nothing can happen to it. In case of loss, the Company’s millions insure you.”
“But I want—” The tall, dark-complexioned owner of the bag cast a sweeping glance over her fellow travelers who stood awaiting their turn at the gate. She appeared to suspect them, one and all, of having designs on her bag.
The much-traveled commercial passengers smiled indulgently, two ladies gave the dark-complexioned one a half sympathetic glance. But the young man who had, through Rosemary’s good offices, so recently acquired a place on the plane favored her with not so much as a look. He appeared to have become greatly interested in a small yellow plane that was just then taking off.
“He just seems to be interested in that plane.” The thought leapt unbidden into the young stewardess’ mind. “He’s more interested in that woman than he’d like anyone to know. I wonder why?”
“Oh well, if you insist!” The dark-complexioned lady dropped her bag, grabbed impatiently at the check offered for it, then hurrying past Rosemary without affording her so much as a look, climbed aboard the plane to sink into the seat farthest to the rear.
“As if she proposed to watch the others all the way to Salt Lake City,” was Rosemary’s mental comment, although she knew the thought to be unwarranted and absurd.
Ten minutes later, with all on board, they were sailing out over the city. Rosemary settled down to the business of the hour. She loved her work, did this slender girl. Hers was an unusual task. She performed it unusually well. She was in charge of the “ship” while it was in the air. She was hostess to the ten passengers entrusted to her care. At once her alert mind took up the problems of this particular journey. She smiled as two of the four traveling men launched forth on a discussion of the country’s economic problems. “That settles them,” she told herself. The third traveling man buried himself in the latest newspaper, and the fourth dragged out papers from his brief case to pour over figures. Two rather flashily dressed young men, who had not slept the night before, asked for pillows. They were soon checked off to the land of dreams. Two middle-aged women began discussing the feeding and training of children.
All this left to Rosemary’s care only the dark-complexioned woman in a rear seat and the young man of great haste. “A very quiet trip,” she told herself. In this, as all too often, she was mistaken.
“What can I do for you?” She flashed a smile at the dark-complexioned woman. She received no smile in reply.
“Nothing.”