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Chapter VII
The Smash-Up

The robbery which was so carefully planned by the gang of thieves who had kidnapped Linda Carlton, was highly successful. One of the largest banks in Jacksonville was entered just before closing time on the afternoon of June 23rd by four masked robbers, who calmly took thousands of dollars in cash and securities, and escaped to a waiting car, without being identified or caught.

By a secret route these men suddenly disappeared – whither, no one but Linda and Susie knew. By midnight they were back again in the swamp, and by dawn they had reached Black Jack Island.

Exhausted from their journey, three of the men dropped down on their cots and fell instantly asleep. The fourth – Susie's husband – stopped to look into his wife's tent.

Flashing the light inside, he peered through the doorway. There was Susie, sleeping peacefully on her cot. But the other bed was empty! "Susie!" he yelled in alarm. "Where's Linda?"

The girl awakened abruptly, and sat up, blinking her eyes at the unexpected light. For a moment she could not think what he meant. Then she remembered her prisoner.

"She's gone," she replied. "Beat it this afternoon."

"How?" he demanded roughly, coming over and shaking her by the arm. Susie winced, and pulled herself free.

"You leave me alone!" she warned him. "How do I know how Linda got away? Could I run after her?"

"No, but you might 'ave watched her!" snarled Slats. "Didn't I tell you to?"

"Watching wouldn't keep her here," retorted Susie.

"Is her Bug still there?" he inquired.

"Yeah. I hobbled over and took a look myself."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Then, worn out and disappointed, Slats started to swear.

Susie sat still, regarding him with contempt. How vulgar such language sounded, when you actually stopped and listened to it! She did not realize it at the time, but just the few hours which she had spent with Linda Carlton had given her a new view-point. Or rather, had brought back her training as a child, before she had "gone bad."

When the man's anger had spent itself in violent words, he began to wonder how on earth Linda could have escaped.

"No human being could get far in this here bog, without a boat or a plane!" he exclaimed. "She must be around here somewhere."

"Why don't you go look for her!" demanded Susie, with a sneer. She was beginning to be glad that Linda had gotten away.

Her husband turned on her savagely.

"Look a here, Susie, if you helped that kid to get away – !" He held up his fist threateningly. "I'll make you sorry! Give you a dose of the medicine I was saving for Linda!"

"What do you mean?" she demanded, trembling.

"This gun!" he replied.

"Well, I didn't," she hastened to assure him. "Linda slipped off when I wasn't watching… But do you mean you were going to shoot Linda?"

"Sure, you fool! That's what kidnappers always do. Bait the big fish till they get the cash, then kill the victim, and ship the corpse. If we sent Linda back alive, she'd have us in the Pen in no time. Our game'd be up."

Susie shivered; she had not realized that the men had any intention of going to that end. True, Slats had once killed a bank messenger, but Susie always excused him on the ground of self-defense. "Hard-boiled" as she was, the idea of shooting an innocent girl like Linda Carlton was too much for her to approve. She felt suddenly sick with the horror of it all.

Slats sat down for a moment on the empty cot, while he thought things over. Linda Carlton must not escape to tell the world of her experience and to give such accurate descriptions of the gang that they would have to be caught. Aside from the matter of the ransom which the kidnapping ought to bring them, they dared not let her go. The case called for immediate action.

"Can you fly that Bug, Susie?" he demanded, abruptly breaking the silence.

"I guess so," replied the girl. "They say they're easier than airplanes."

"O.K. Then we're off. Get dressed as quick as you can."

"But Slats," protested Susie, rubbing her injured ankle, "don't forget I've been hurt!"

"Rats!" was his unsympathetic reply. "Get busy. I'll be getting the gas, and some grub. We'll need coffee – and a lot of it."

Distasteful as the plan was, Susie could do nothing but obey. But she was feeling very miserable as she ate her breakfast, very sorry for the "poor, brave kid," as she called Linda, very resentful against her husband.

The latter helped her down to the autogiro and put her into the pilot's cock-pit, where she sat for some minutes examining the controls. The dawn had changed into daylight, and the swamp was beautiful in the early morning sunrise. But, like Linda Carlton, Susie did not even notice it.

Impatient at the delay, her husband demanded, "Got the idea how to run her?"

"Sure," she replied, listlessly. "Start her up and climb in… Where do you want to go!"

"Circle all around – flying low, so that we can spot the kid if she's here. If we don't see her in the water, we'll stop at some of the islands, and look there. She can't 'ave got out of this swamp."

"O.K.," agreed Susie.

Without much difficulty the girl ran the autogiro along the edge of the island until it rose into the air. It was easy enough to keep it flying; the test would come when she had to make a landing. But Susie decided never to worry about anything until the time came. Luck was usually with her; her only serious crash had been the one of two days previous, and, after all, there was a reason for that.

Slats, who spurned learning how to fly, because he considered his a master-mind, above such practical work, was, nevertheless, enjoying the ride. He congratulated himself upon his own cleverness in securing this new plane for the gang.

"Like her, Susie?" he shouted, through the speaking-tube.

The girl nodded, indifferently.

"You can have her!" he announced, proudly, as if he were giving her a costly present of his own purchasing.

Susie drew down the corners of her lips in scorn, but made no reply. Didn't he realize that she would never dare fly this autogiro where anyone could see her? That the police all over the country would be on the look-out for this very plane? She was understanding for the first time that money was not much use without freedom.

As she sat in the cock-pit, silently thinking things over, she made up her mind not to try to help Slats in his search. She would have to continue to guide the plane, of course, for she never for one moment forgot the pistol that her husband kept ready to enforce his orders with. But she would not attempt to spot Linda, nor would she inform him if she did happen by chance to see the girl. No; it would be better to let "the poor kid" die by natural causes in the swamp than for her to be killed by Slats in cold-blooded murder.

Over the trees and tropical plants of the swamp they continued to fly, until the sun rose directly overhead, and they knew that it was noon. All the while Slats kept his eyes glued to the ground, without any success. Not a sign of human life did he see. Movements in the swamp – yes – snakes and birds, and even an alligator – but no girl! Yet he felt sure that even if Linda were hiding, she would come out at the sound of the plane, for by this time she would realize that escape was impossible. Driven by the pangs of hunger, she would have to surrender to her fate. But noon passed, and they found no trace of her.

Perhaps she was dead by this time, the man thought bitterly – killed by a snake, or drowned in the treacherous water! He would not mind that, if he could only find her dead body. Without it, without the assurance that she was not still at large, he dared not seek a reward. What a lot of money he would be losing!

"We'll land on an island, and have some grub," he shouted to his companion. "Fly south to 'Soldiers' Camp.'"

"O.K.," replied the girl, beginning to doubt her ability to make a landing. But she was afraid to disobey – and besides, they had to come down sometime.

After that things happened with a rapidity that must have startled the peaceful bird-life in the Okefenokee Swamp. Approaching the island, Susie and her husband spotted the carefree picnic at the same moment, and the former made a sudden, sharp turn in the hope of hiding the sight from Slats. At the same instant, he took out his pistol and fired at the group – at Linda in particular – missing her only because of Susie's rapid change of the position of the plane.

The sharp angle had its effect upon the pilot; she lurched over, striking her injured ankle against the rudder, swerving the plane violently to the other side. Panic-stricken, she tried to right the plane, but she had not even throttled the engine down to a landing speed. The inevitable crash followed. With an impact that was frightful, the autogiro headed for a tree with relentless speed, struck it and bounced thirty feet into the air.

By some miracle Susie, crouched as she was in the cock-pit, was not thrown out, but her husband, who had not taken the precaution to wear a safety-belt, was bounced wildly into the air, and landed, face-downward, on a rock.

During all this excitement, Linda and her companions stood tensely rooted to the spot, the girl gripping Jackson Carter's hand as if he were her one support. As the crash came, she dropped her head on his shoulder and moaned aloud, totally unconscious of the fact that the young man was still little more than a stranger to her.

A cry from Susie aroused her to the fact that the girl was still alive. Ignoring the man who had brought about the catastrophe by his hasty shot, all three young people rushed to Susie's aid.

The plane was only partially turned over; the rotor and the wheels were injured, and the nose smashed, but it did not look to Linda as if there had been any serious harm to the engine. Susie's head was cut, and two teeth were knocked out, but apparently no bones had been broken. Very carefully the boys lifted her from the cock-pit and laid her on the ground.

"I have a first-aid kit in the canoe," said Hal, immediately. "I'll get it and fix up this cut. It doesn't seem awfully deep."

"Does it hurt very much, Susie?" asked Linda, offering her a drink of water.

"Not as much as my ankle. And my poor mouth! Without these teeth! My looks are ruined!"

"No, they're not," answered Linda, comfortingly. "Any good dentist can fix you up so nobody will ever know the difference."

Still no one said anything about the man who was lying so silently on the rock a dozen yards away. It was Hal Perry, returning from the canoe, who made the announcement which they had all been secretly expecting.

"The man with the gun is dead," he said, quietly, not knowing how Susie would take the news.

"So he got his at last," muttered the latter, with a certain grim satisfaction. "Nobody – not even his widow – is goin' to shed a single tear!"

Chapter VIII
The Chief of Police

Half an hour after the accident, Susie expressed a desire to eat, and Linda hastened to supply her with food. While the girl ate her lunch, the little group discussed their plans.

"Is my bag still in the autogiro?" asked Linda, surveying the disreputable suit which she had worn for three days. What a relief it would be to get into clean clothing!

"It was when we left," replied Susie. "If it didn't bounce out when we crashed… Linda," she added apologetically, "I'm awful sorry about your plane. I – I – didn't mean to crack it up."

"I know you didn't, Susie. I think it can be repaired, if we can get the new parts to this forsaken place. Probably we can – by airplane."

Jackson Carter, who had been only half listening to this conversation, interrupted by telling the girls that he and Hal would take care of the burying of the criminal. "Unless," he added, turning to Susie, "you would want to take the body back to your home?"

"We haven't any home," Susie admitted sadly. "And no friends, outside the gang… No, it's better for him to lie here in this swamp – where he meant to plant Linda."

The implication was lost to the boys, who did not know the story of the kidnapping, and who thought of Linda as "Ann."

"Then first we'll help you get your bag out of the autogiro, Miss Carlton," offered Jackson. "You can go back into one of those little 'houses,' and change into clean clothing, if you want to, while we attend to the burying."

"Wait a minute," urged Linda. "I think we ought to decide what we'll do about tonight. We can't all four get into that canoe, so Susie and I had better stay here, hadn't we? You could wire my aunt for me, couldn't you?"

To Linda's amazement, before either of the boys had a chance to reply, Susie put in a protest.

"It ain't safe for you to be here an hour more than you have to," she said. "Don't forget there's still three rough guys hot on your trail… No, I'll stay alone, if you leave me some grub, and a blanket. You can come back for me when you bring somebody to fix your plane." This generous offer came as a complete surprise to Linda; she had not realized before that this girl had swung over to her side. What a splendid sign it was! Susie must have decided to cut free from these criminals, now that her husband was dead.

"That's great of you, Susie," replied Linda. "And you needn't worry that I'll ever tell the authorities anything bad about you! I was afraid I oughtn't to leave you alone – but if you really don't mind – "

The other girl shrugged her shoulders.

"I'll get along O.K. I'm used to being left by myself. But don't stay away too long."

The arrangements suited the boys perfectly, for they were anxious to be out of the swamp as soon as possible. With fast paddling, they ought to be able to reach a little town in Florida by dark, where they believed that they could hire an automobile to take them home.

Fifteen minutes later Linda stepped out from the enclosure, dressed in a pale blue voile – the only dress she carried in her bag, for she had shipped her trunk to Atlanta, where she had expected to report for work. The wearing of clean clothing was a pleasure second only to that of using a comb and a tooth-brush. She felt like a different girl.

If she had seemed pretty to Jackson Carter before, in that disheveled green linen suit, she was radiantly beautiful now. Returning from his gruesome task, he stood still, lost in admiration.

Linda laughed at his amazement.

"Do I look like another girl?" she inquired.

"The same girl – glorified," he answered, with awe.

Having unloaded the canoe of its food and blankets, and assured themselves that Susie was able to hobble around with the aid of a stick, the three young people pushed off. It was only three o'clock; all these occurrences – the crash, the death of the criminal, his burial – had taken place in less than two hours!

For some time the boys paddled forward in silence, each of the three occupants of the canoe lost in his or her own thoughts. Hal was going over the exciting events of the last two hours; Jackson was thinking of Linda – or "Ann" – Carlton, and wondering whether her hiding her head on his shoulder had meant that she cared for him. Linda's mind, however, was occupied with the immediate future – with the part she might play in assisting the police to catch those arch criminals who were still at large.

It was she who first broke the silence.

"What would be the nearest large city to this southern end of the swamp?" she inquired.

"Jacksonville, Florida," replied Hal, immediately. "That's where we both live."

"Then that's where I want to go," announced Linda. "Have they a good police department?"

"Best in the country," boasted Jackson… "Miss Carlton," he added, "would you stay at our home while you are in the city?"

"I'd love to," agreed the girl immediately. All through the South, until she had lost her way in the Okefenokee, she had met with this same southern hospitality, and had found it charming.

Jackson Carter was overjoyed at her acceptance, yet he was a little fearful of the reception his mother would give to a girl who was so different from all his other friends. Surely, however, the older woman must see how fine Miss Carlton was, and accept her for her own lovely charm.

The hours passed swiftly and the daylight was fast fading when the boys finally informed Linda that she was out of the swamp. With a prayer of thanksgiving, she gave it one last look, hardly able to believe her good fortune. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been miserably lost in its depths. Now she was free to live again in civilization, untortured by the fears that had held her in such terror for the last three days.

Leaving the canoe in a boat-house on the bank of the small stream which they had been following out of the swamp, they walked to the nearest village and asked for the Post Office. Here Linda made arrangements to send a wire to her aunt, in which, however, she did not mention the fact that she had been kidnapped.

"Have been lost in Okefenokee Swamp," she wrote. "But not hurt. Wire me at Jacksonville, Fla. Love – Linda."

Her next move was to send for her trunk from Atlanta, and to wire for new parts for the autogiro, and while the boys looked up a place to eat supper, she bought a Jacksonville newspaper. She hoped there would be nothing in it about her, for she hated so much publicity.

The first item that struck her eye was the announcement of the Jacksonville Bank robbery. More than a hundred thousand dollars had been stolen – in cash and securities – by four masked bandits on the afternoon of June twenty-third, and still no trace of them had been found.

"That money must be at Black Jack Island," she thought, resolving to get this information to the police early the following day.

She had to go through the paper twice before she found her own name. It was only a tiny notice, among the aviation briefs, and copied from an Ohio paper – stating the fact that Linda Carlton, world-famous aviatrix, had not been heard from for three days, and asking that the air-ports of Georgia report any sight of her autogiro.

Linda breathed a sigh of relief, as she saw how inconspicuous this notice was. For some reason she did not want Jackson Carter or Hal Perry to connect her with the famous flyer, and she longed above everything to keep the story of the kidnapping from her aunt's ears.

The boys came back with the information that they had found a place to eat, and took Linda to a little frame house where a widow ran a sort of restaurant. The cottage was run-down and out-of-repair, but everything inside was neat and clean, and the food, though plain, was excellent.

"How long will it take us to get to Jacksonville?" inquired Linda, as they finished the meal.

"Two or three hours," replied Hal. "Providing we have no mishaps. Why?"

Linda repressed a sigh. She was very tired, and longed intensely for sleep in a real bed. These last two nights in the swamp had taken their toll of her vitality.

"If only we had a plane!" she said.

"It wouldn't do me any good," remarked Jackson. "I've never been in one – and I've promised my grandmother I won't fly until I'm twenty-one."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," offered Linda, with genuine sympathy. Life without flying seemed a dreary thing to her.

The only car which the boys had been able to hire was a dilapidated Ford that looked as if it would hardly last the trip. But it proved to be better than its appearance; over the lovely hard roads of Florida it traveled comparatively smoothly. To Linda's amazement, she found when they reached Jacksonville that she had slept most of the way.

The short rest had freshened her considerably, and she suddenly decided to go to the Police Headquarters that night. It was her duty to report the crash of her plane, and the death of that criminal. She wished that she had thought to ask Susie his real name – she was going to feel rather silly calling him "Slats."

With this purpose in mind, she asked Jackson what time it was.

"Half-past nine," was his reply. "Why?"

"Because I think I ought to report to the Police tonight about those thieves. I understand that it was a bank in Jacksonville that they robbed."

"Which bank?" demanded the boy, excitedly.

"'The First National,' the paper says."

At this information, Jackson Carter dropped back in his seat and groaned. His mother's bank – where all of her money was kept! The bank of which his uncle was president! This was going to mean trouble to the whole Carter family.

"Will you please take my bag to your house, and leave the address with me?" asked Linda, not knowing what Jackson was suffering. "I'll take a taxi out to your home, after I see the Chief of Police."

"Yes, yes, of course," agreed the young man, still absorbed in his own thoughts.

It was a late hour to visit the Chief of Police, but when Linda explained her reason to an officer at the City Hall, the latter sent for the chief immediately.

When Captain Magee came in a few minutes later, Linda was impressed with his appearance and delighted with his dignified and courteous manner. She smiled at him confidently; how different he was from those officers of the law with whom she had come in contact in Canada!

"I am going to tell you my whole story, if you will promise not to repeat the part about the kidnapping to the newspapers," she began. "I don't want my people at home to hear of that – for, after all, it is over now, and I am safe."

"Kidnapping!" repeated the officer. "You don't mean to say that you have been kidnapped?"

"Yes. My name is Linda Ann Carlton – I am the girl who flew the Atlantic in May." She blushed, for she hated to talk about herself, or to appear to boast about her own exploits, but this time it was necessary. "Here in Jacksonville, among friends, I am going to be known as Ann Carlton, because I want to avoid publicity." Her blue eyes became pleading, and she asked, in an almost child-like tone, "You won't tell on me, will you, Captain Magee?"

He smiled. "No, I won't tell. Unless it becomes necessary."

"Thank you so much! Well, to continue: I bought a new autogiro and flew down here to report to a company in Atlanta about a job spraying crops, and the newspapers printed the route of my flight. Early in the evening of June 22nd I lost my way over the Okefenokee Swamp, and finally landed on an island. A plane had been chasing me, as I later learned after it landed – or rather crashed – beside mine. The man in it held me at the point of a gun and compelled me to fly my autogiro to their camp on Black Jack Island, where I was to be held for a ransom. That man was the chief of the gang of bandits that robbed the Jacksonville bank."

She paused a moment for breath, and the Captain leaned forward eagerly. The story, which might have seemed incredulous to an ordinary person, was perfectly believable to him. He was used to the ways of criminals.

"But how did you get away?" he demanded.

"I never should have, if it hadn't been for this bank robbery," she explained. "While the men went off, I escaped, and was picked up by a couple of Jacksonville boys in a canoe."

Linda went on to relate the happenings of the afternoon, concluding with the death of the ring-leader of the gang, whom she knew only as "Slats." She spoke lightly of Susie, showing her merely as a weak pawn in her husband's hands.

The criminals' method of disposing of their stolen valuables was another interesting point in her story, and she told Captain Magee about the barren island in the ocean.

"Now whether this stuff is still on the island or at the camp," she concluded, "I don't know. But I am ready to go and help you find out."

"You mean you are actually willing to go back into that swamp?" the officer asked. "To show us the way?"

"Of course! That's why I came to you tonight. So that we can make arrangements for tomorrow."

"But it may be very dangerous, Miss Carlton! These men will be armed, and will shoot at sight."

"I'll take a chance. Can we go tomorrow morning? By plane?"

"By airplane?"

"Yes. Any other way would be too slow. They may have escaped already."

"But an airplane will be so much noisier than a boat. They'll hear you coming."

"We'll have to take that chance." She stood up. "If you will get a plane, Captain Magee – a large one – I will fly it, to save space. Then we can take two or three armed guards."

"How do you know that you can fly any plane I happen to get, Miss Carlton?" he inquired, incredulously.

"You see, I'm a transport pilot," she explained. "We have to be able to manage most anything… Can you send a car out for me to the Carters' home, early in the morning?" She handed the Captain the address.

"Yes. I'll telephone as soon as I can make all the arrangements," he agreed, seeing that he could not change her from her purpose.

Linda thanked him and hurried out to the waiting taxi. It was growing late, long after ten o'clock, and she was anxious to be in bed.

Jackson Carter himself came to the door when she rang the bell.

"Where is your mother?" she asked, immediately, for there was no sign of a hostess inside.

"She is ill," replied the young man. "The bad news about the bank – a great deal of our money was lost – knocked her terribly. She hasn't told grandmother, or it might kill her. So I had the maid get the guest room ready, and hope that you will excuse them both."

Linda nodded; she had no way of knowing that Mrs. Carter had protested about entertaining this girl whom Jackson had "picked up" on his canoe trip, and had stubbornly refused to see her. The woman had worked herself into such a state of nerves over her losses and over this incident that she had actually made herself ill.

"I'm so sorry," said Linda, sympathetically. "If I weren't so tired, I'd go to a hotel, for this is no time for your mother to be bothered with a guest. But I'll just stay tonight, and leave early tomorrow. I'm flying to the swamp again with the police officers."

"Ann!" cried Jackson aghast, using her name unconsciously. "Don't, please! It's dangerous – you may be killed… And, and, besides – "

"Besides, what?"

"Besides, it isn't done. You shouldn't go off to lonely places like that, without an older woman along."

Linda smiled.

"I can't be bothered with social codes at a time like this," she said. "I have to do all I can to get that money back. Think of the hundreds of people hurt by that bank robbery – if the bank is forced to close its doors! Including your own mother and grandmother! No, I just have to go."

"Let me go instead," he suggested.

"You wouldn't know just where the camp is. It's pretty well hidden, and I know the only spot where a landing is possible. Besides, you can't fly a plane."

"You mean you will pilot the plane yourself? Your autogiro's broken."

"Oh, it'll be another plane – a hired one. Now please don't argue any more, Mr. Carter – you sound like my aunt – and let me go to bed. And will you ask one of the servants to waken me at seven o'clock?"

"Good night, then, Miss Carlton," he said, almost sorrowfully, for it seemed like the end of what might have been a wonderful friendship for Jackson Carter.