A bright red sports-roadster, loaded to overflowing with young people of both sexes, turned in at the gate of the Carltons’ home in Spring City and whizzed up the driveway to the porch steps. As it stopped at the entrance, Dorothy Crowley, who was Linda Carlton’s best friend, disentangled herself from the group and jumped out.

“Hello, Miss Carlton!” she called to the middle-aged woman sitting on the porch. “Any news of the world’s most famous aviatrix?”

“You mean Linda?” returned Miss Carlton, smiling.

Dot nodded.
8

“Of course. Have you heard from her?”

“No, I haven’t, Dorothy. But then, I didn’t expect to. You know, of course, that Linda has set her heart on taking some sort of flying position, and she had several prospects to interview.”

“But she’s been gone a week!” protested Dot. “This is the twenty-second of September.”

“I know, but she expected to be gone a week. She ought to be home some time today. If she doesn’t come, I think she will let me know.”

“Well, we miss her just fearfully,” concluded Dot. “And we want to hear the very minute she gets back. You know Ralph leaves for college tomorrow, and he’s all hot and bothered about going off without even a good-bye from Linda.”

Miss Carlton smiled at the mention of Ralph Clavering’s devotion to her niece. The young man, whose father happened to be the wealthiest citizen of Spring City, made no attempt to keep his admiration for Linda a secret.

“I’ll have her call you the minute she arrives. At least—if she doesn’t come home in an ambulance.”
9

Dot laughed at the absurdity of such a suggestion and turned to go. In her haste she almost bumped into a messenger-boy, who at that very moment was coming up the porch steps with a telegram.

Miss Carlton rose from her seat and stepped forward excitedly.

“Oh, I’m afraid something dreadful has happened!” she exclaimed, ominously.

Dot remained motionless, and even the young people in the car grew silent. An awful tenseness seemed to hang over the peaceful September day, as Miss Carlton received the message into her trembling hands.

“Why, it’s for Linda—not from her!” she cried in sudden relief. “So she must be all right.”

Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when the drone of a motor attracted everybody’s attention to the skies. A plane—yes, with the rotors that proclaimed it an autogiro—was approaching from the west, until it seemed to hover over the very house itself.
10

“There she is!” screamed Dot, joyously, and in another moment the six young people in the roadster had all jumped out and were racing towards the field beyond the house, where Linda always landed her plane.

“Thank goodness!” exclaimed Miss Carlton, grateful that once again the girl who had been through so many catastrophes in her zeal for flying would be safe on the ground.

Linking her arm with Dot’s, she accompanied the young people to the field beyond the house.

With the ease of a cat settling down to take her nap, the Ladybug, Linda’s famous autogiro, descended to the earth, and the slender, pretty girl in a flier’s suit and helmet, climbed out of the cockpit.

“Darling!” cried Dot, dashing forward for the first embrace.

Linda tried to hug everybody at once, with an especially tender caress for her Aunt Emily, who had mothered her ever since she was a baby.

“Were you kidnapped?” inquired Ralph Clavering, the tall, good-looking young man who considered Linda his special property.

“Or in a burning house?” suggested Kit Hulbert, Ralph’s married sister.

Linda shook her head laughingly.
11

“Just taking a good week’s rest, I’ll bet!” surmised long-legged Jim Valier, whose idea of bliss was to sleep. “Don’t blame you a bit, Linda. A fellow can’t get a decent nap with this snappy bunch around, let alone a full night’s rest!”

“You’re surely all right, dear?” inquired Miss Emily Carlton, anxiously. “No bones broken?”

Again Linda smiled.

“I’m fine, and I had a most successful trip. I’ll tell you all about it later—if anything materializes,” she added, mysteriously.

“We want to go to the movies,” explained Kit, as they all turned back towards the house. “Can you make it, Linda?”

“Yes, if you will give me fifteen minutes for a shower, and five for a bite to eat,” she replied. “And if Aunt Emily will come along too,” she added affectionately.

She made even better time than she had promised, and inside of a quarter of an hour, a different Linda Carlton came down the stairs. Clad in a blue silk suit the color of her eyes, her beautiful blond hair showing under her turban, she looked more like a society girl than the world’s most famous aviatrix.
12

In the meanwhile, Dot had gone into the garage and brought out Linda’s roadster, for Ralph Clavering’s car, elastic as it seemed to be, could not be stretched to accommodate two extra passengers. Since Miss Carlton had graciously accepted their invitation, they wanted her to be comfortable.

“So you won’t ride with me!” complained Ralph, as he watched Linda take her place at the wheel of her own car.

“I’ll sit beside you in the movies,” she promised,

“And you even take Dot away from us!” protested Jim Valier, pretending to be angry.

“You’ll be glad of my space!” returned Dot, as she squeezed into Linda’s car, between her chum and Miss Carlton.

“We’ll miss the wise-cracks,” remarked Ralph. “But I can’t say that you occupy much room, Dot.” He started his engine. “Hurry up, now, or we’ll miss the news reel, and think how ignorant we’ll be!”
13

The theatre was already darkened when the group entered ten minutes later, so they all walked quietly, in order to make as little disturbance as possible. Even Sara Wheeler, who giggled on every occasion, managed to suppress any outburst with her handkerchief.

But their good behavior lasted only a moment. No sooner were they comfortably seated than the most extraordinary piece of news was flashed on the screen. As if the manager had been waiting for the dramatic moment to make his announcement.

“WORLD’S MOST FAMOUS AVIATRIX SIGNS CONTRACT WITH THE APEX FILM CORPORATION!” thundered the voice of the announcer.

“As if any other girl could be as famous as you, Linda!” whispered Dot resentfully. “I’d like to know who—”

The words died on her lips as the actual picture of the famous aviatrix was shown. Why—it looked like—it must be—Linda herself!

The girl, in a flier’s costume, smiled and turned aside to sign a contract.

“MISS LINDA CARLTON, THE FIRST GIRL TO FLY FROM NEW YORK TO PARIS ALONE, ACCEPTS PART IN ‘BRIDE OF THE AIR,’ A PICTURE NOW BEING FILMED IN HOLLYWOOD,” continued the calm voice of the announcer.
14

“So that’s where you’ve been!” exclaimed Dot, just a little bit hurt that Linda had kept this a secret from her. They had shared all their joys and secrets ever since their experiences in the Okefenokee Swamp together, and it did not seem possible that Linda would deliberately shut her out of such an important event. Besides, Linda had always refused to go into the movies. Why the sudden change?

“You cagey thing!” muttered Ralph, as amazed at the revelation as Dot, and even more hurt than the latter that he had been excluded from her confidence.

Linda made no attempt to answer; she sat rigid in her seat, staring at the screen with unseeing eyes. The girl whom the announcer had proclaimed to be Linda Carlton was tall and slender, and in her flier’s suit and helmet, had resembled Linda to a remarkable degree. But of course it wasn’t Linda. Why, she hadn’t been near Hollywood!

“It’s not true,” she finally whispered to Dot. “That’s somebody else, posing for me.”

“Now, Linda!” returned Dot, unconvinced. “Don’t try to play innocent!”
15

“You’ll make a stunning heroine, Linda,” whispered Kit, leaning over from her seat beside Ralph. There was sincere admiration in her tone.

Then the whole party grew excited, and all talked at once, shooting questions at Linda without any regard to the fact that they were supposed to keep quiet. People around them showed perceptible signs of annoyance, until Ralph, sitting back in sullen silence, admonished them all to keep still.

The talk subsided, and the crowd’s attention was diverted during the feature, but Linda did not even see it. Inside she was seething at the very idea of anything so preposterous. Usually a peaceful girl, she felt as if she would like to tear that impostor to pieces.

Yet there was no use trying to tell the young people after the show that it wasn’t true. Hadn’t Linda been away for a number of days, on some mysterious errand connected with flying! Didn’t the girl look like her—why, they were sure it was Linda! And they were thrilled, too. It was great fun to have one of their own group a famous actress, as well as a famous aviatrix. All of them—except Dot and Ralph.
16

“I want you to stay at our house for supper, Dot,” urged Linda, as the other car drove off after the show. “Can you phone?”

“Yes, of course,” agreed her chum, wondering what kind of explanation Linda was going to make for her secrecy in the affair.

Neither girl mentioned it until they were inside the Carltons’ house. They did not stop on the porch, but followed Linda’s Aunt Emily into the living-room.

“I suppose your telegram was from Hollywood, Linda?” inquired Miss Carlton, as if to lead up to the all-exciting topic.

“No, it wasn’t, Aunt Emily,” replied Linda, decidedly. “It was from Mr. Eckert—you remember, the head of the Air School at St. Louis, where I took my course?... He wanted me to take a position teaching there this year.”

“Why, that sounds very attractive, dear,” replied Miss Carlton. “Safer and more dignified than all this stunt flying you’ll have to do for the pictures.” A look of distress passed over her face.... “Linda, I don’t like your accepting that contract without consulting either me or your father,” she added, gently.

Linda dropped into a chair with a groan.
17

“Please sit down, Aunt Emily—and Dot. I have a lot to say.”

Not knowing what was coming next, they both complied with her request.

“Haven’t you both always found me pretty truthful?” she asked, seriously.

“Of course we have, dear,” answered the older woman, immediately. “Nobody ever doubts your word. But you never promised me that you wouldn’t go into the films. I never asked you not to, for I thought you wouldn’t consider it.”

“No, Aunt Emily, I wouldn’t. And I haven’t! You and Dot must believe me. That girl you saw today impersonating me is a fake. I never signed a contract, with any picture producer, and I haven’t been near Hollywood!”

Dot jumped to her feet joyfully, and, dashing across the room, wound her arms about her chum.

“I’m so glad, Linda!” she cried.

Miss Carlton breathed a long sigh of relief.

“But think of the impudence of that girl!” she exclaimed. “To dare to do a thing like that—”
18

“Expecting that she can get away with it!” added Dot.

“Well, she can’t!” announced Linda, her eyes shining with indignation. “I’m going to fly right out there and grab her by the collar—and—and—”

“Why, Linda, I never heard you talk so!” remarked her aunt in amazement. “Not even when you were a child.”

“I never had such occasion to do so before. You know what Shakespeare says about stealing your good name. That’s just what that girl’s doing. Making me cheap. As if I were in aviation for publicity, or for personal gain! Oh, I’m stirred up, all right!”

“I don’t blame you one bit, dear!” agreed Miss Carlton, soothingly.

“But what are you going to do?” demanded Dot, realizing that Linda must have already formulated a plan during that moving-picture show. “Going to wire the Corporation?”

“Indeed I’m not!” she replied, emphatically. “They wouldn’t believe me.”

“‘How could they believe you?’” quoted Dot, from the old song of “The Girl from Utah.”
19

“Exactly! If all my own friends—Ralph, and Kit and Jim and everybody—yes—even you and Aunt Emily—actually thought I was fooling, how could I convince a strange director by merely sending a telegram? He’d think I was the impostor, of course, and their Linda was the real thing.”

“Yes, that’s logical,” admitted Miss Carlton. “But what can you do, dear?”

“I’m going to fly right out to Hollywood tomorrow, after I give the Ladybug a thorough inspection.”

Miss Carlton sighed, this time not in relief.

“Then you’ll be home only one night!”

“I can’t help that, Aunt Emily. I must go. I just have to. I’ll stop and see Mr. Eckert at St. Louis, on my way.”

Dot’s eyes lighted up with sudden inspiration.

“May I go with you, Linda?” she asked.

“May you!” Linda repeated. “Oh, Dot, would you? I’d just love it!”

“And I’d feel safer,” put in her Aunt Emily.
20

“It’s decided, then,” announced Dot. “I’m thrilled to death!... Oh, Linda, think of seeing Hollywood. The movies being made—and the stars themselves! We’ll have a marvellous time.”

“Be sure to take plenty of clothes,” cautioned Miss Carlton. “You know how much they dress out there.”

“We’ll outshine Lilyan Tashman herself!” promised Linda, thankful that her aunt was not raising any objection to the trip.

“Going to tell Ralph about it?” inquired Dot, as she rose to telephone to her mother.

“What’s the use?” returned Linda. “He wouldn’t believe me. He’d think I was going back to complete my contract. No; he’s peeved—let him stay peeved. I’d rather spend my evening planning our trip.”

“Flying comes first, as always,” observed Miss Carlton, in a resigned tone, as she, too, left the room, to do her part in making the trip comfortable for the two girls.