Linda Carlton's Perilous Summer

"Aunt Emily, may we have a picnic lunch?" Pretty Linda Carlton, the first girl in America to fly from New York to Paris alone, stood in the living room of her aunt's summer bungalow at Green Falls, and asked the question. Her blue eyes were pleading, although it was not for the mere favor of a lunch. The older woman glanced at her costumea flying suitand looked grave. "Where do you want to go, dear?" she countered. "Dot and I want to go off by ourselvesin the 'Ladybug.'" "The 'Ladybug!'" repeated Miss Carlton, with despair in her tone. That was the name of Linda's autogiro, which she had purchased in June and flown south to Georgia. There she had met with all sorts of disasters, had been kidnaped by a gang of thieves and stranded on a lonely island with this same girlDot, or Dorothy Crowleyas her only companion. "I should think you and Dot would have had enough flying to last you the rest of your lives." "Now, Aunt Emily, you know I could never have enough flying. IIbelong in the air." Linda's eyes lighted up with joy, as they always did when she spoke of her favorite pastime. She came across the room and seated herself upon the arm of her aunt's chair. "I've stayed on the ground for two weeks, Auntie dearjust for your sake. But I've got to go up nowI just have to! You do understand, don't you?" Miss Carlton, who had taken care of Linda ever since she was a baby, was so afraid of airplanes that she had never even taken a ride with her niece. She sighed. "I suppose so, dear. But don't go far, and promise me you'll be back for supper." "Oh, we will! I'm sure of that!" Linda replied, as she bent over and kissed her aunt. The words she spoke were sincere; the "Ladybug" was in perfect shape, and Linda truly meant to plan her flight so that she would be back in Green Falls before sunset, but, of course, she could not know that circumstances would step in and prevent her. Fifteen minutes later, she and her chum, Dot Crowleydiminutive in size, but bubbling over with spirits and capable to the tips of her fingers, stepped into the autogiro, adjusted the self-starter and left the earth behind. It was a beautiful summer day, without a cloud in the sky, and the girls were as happy as birds. Linda directed her "Ladybug" straight across Lake Michigan, over the heads of the swimmers and above the boats, for the shores of Wisconsin. An invigorating breeze was blowing, so that the girls were glad of their sweaters and helmets, and they laughed and sang as they flew. It was over a hundred miles across the lake, but the autogiro took the distance with the ease of a motor car. On and on they went, pressing into Wisconsin, leaving the lake behind. When they finally landed in a field for their lunch, Linda confessed that she didn't know just where they were.

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