Dorothy Dixon and the Mystery Plane. Wayne Dorothy

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СКАЧАТЬ gave a sigh of joyous relief, for around the bend in the road she saw the double gleam of headlights, shining through the wet. Stopping short in the middle of the road, she switched on her flashlight again and waved it frantically from side to side.

      “Daddy!” she cried as the big car drew up. “I was sure you weren’t far away. Gee! but I was glad to see your lights.”

      Mr. Dixon snapped open the door and Dorothy slipped in beside him.

      “Why, what are you doing out here? Have a breakdown?”

      “H-holdup,” she panted. “My car’s down the road. Step on it, Dad – maybe we can catch them.”

      “An ounce of discretion is sometimes worth forty pounds of valor,” he began, throwing in the clutch.

      Dorothy cut him short. “Look!” she cried excitedly, and for all Mr. Dixon’s cautious announcement, the car jumped forward with a jerk. “See, Daddy! There’s my tail light! They’ve turned it on again. And the red lights have disappeared.”

      “What red lights?”

      “Tell you in a minute. Better slow down. My car’s out of gas. I’ve got a piece of hose in the rumble. We can siphon enough from your tank into mine to get me home.”

      Mr. Dixon brought his car to a stop directly behind Dorothy’s coupe.

      “Before we do anything, I want to hear exactly what happened, dear. You scared your fond parent out of a year’s growth when I caught sight of you waving that light in the middle of the road!”

      “Poor old Daddy.” She threw an arm about his neck. “You weren’t half as frightened as I was. Those men were pelting down the road behind me and – ”

      Her father broke in. “Well, they seem to have disappeared now. Let me hear the beginning.”

      In a few short sentences, Dorothy told him.

      “So you see,” she ended. “There’s nothing more for us to do about it, I guess, except to put some gas in my tank, and go home.”

      “Wait a minute. Hand over that flash, please.” He opened the door and with an agility surprising in so large a man, sprang into the wet road and ran toward the gap in the wall.

      As he ran, Dorothy saw a light flash in his hand. Then he went out of sight behind the wall but she could still see the gleam through the bushes. Presently he came back to where she was standing beside the car.

      “Vamoosed!” He tossed the flash onto the seat. “As there’s no car on the road ahead they must have beat it over the field. I wonder why they didn’t hold you up when you’d stopped for those red lanterns? Strange. Also, why do you suppose they switched on your lights?”

      “It’s beyond me. Well, Daddy, if you’ll pull alongside we’ll siphon the gas. This place and the rain and everything gives me the shivers. Let’s talk it over when we get home.”

      Soon they were under way, and they continued on to the Dixon place without further incident.

      “Your shoes are soaking wet, Dorothy. Go up to your room and change them, my dear,” decreed her father. “While you’re doing that, I’ll phone Walters.”

      When Dorothy came downstairs her father was in the living room.

      “Come over here and sit down,” he said, making room for her on the lounge beside him. “Terry has not come home yet. The family pretend not to be worried – and that’s that. I said nothing about what happened to you on your way back from Silvermine.”

      His daughter groaned. “Oh dear – if we could only figure out – but those three red lights seem to cinch things, Daddy.”

      “Hardly that. But they do make it look as though this disappearing business is pretty serious – ”

      Dorothy interrupted him eagerly: “Then there isn’t any doubt in your mind but that our experience at the club this afternoon is accountable for Terry’s disappearance, and my holdup?”

      Mr. Dixon, who was filling his pipe, struck a match and puffed contemplatively.

      “We can’t jump at conclusions, my dear. My first idea about that plane may be the right one. On the other hand, this business tonight certainly forces one’s suspicions. If Terry doesn’t show up by morning, we’ll turn the matter over to the police and start a thorough search. But I do think it wise to keep the story of the amphibian and its pilot to ourselves.”

      Dorothy nodded. “You mean that if we spread our suspicions to the police, they’d let the cat out of the bag and the man would be on his guard?”

      “That’s just it. And then you must remember that we really have no facts to go on as yet.”

      “Well, I think I’ll go to bed,” yawned Dorothy. “Do you mind if I try to trail that plane with my own?”

      “Not if you’ll promise to be careful, dear. In fact, I think it’s a good idea. But one thing I must insist upon and that is – you’re to keep me posted. No more of this taking things into your own hands, as you did with the Martinellis. It’s too dangerous. Confide in your old Dad, girl, and we’ll do a lot better.”

      Dorothy was half way across the room, but here she turned and ran back to her father and kissed him. “Of course I’ll tell you everything. Isn’t it too bad, though, that Bill Bolton is away? He’d have been a wonderful help. Have you any idea what he is doing?”

      “All I know is what his father told me – that he’s off on some government job. It may be Secret Service work, again. Anyway, he’s to be away indefinitely, I understand. Now, just one thing more.”

      “Oh, Daddy! More instructions to take care of myself?”

      Mr. Dixon laughed at her outraged expression, and relit his pipe.

      “Not exactly – you seem to have the luck to generally land on your feet. But, I want you to consider this: if the bearded aviator or his associates are behind Terry’s disappearance, they kidnapped him because they thought he would recognize the man. And they tried to do the same thing to you tonight.”

      “Why on earth should they fear being recognized?”

      “Haven’t the slightest idea. It depends on what they’re up to. There must be a strong motive behind it. You don’t strike a match unless you want a light. But unless we’re chasing moonbeams, something illegal is going on and if there is a hunt for Terry tomorrow, I don’t want you to take part in it.”

      “You think they’ll try to get me again?”

      “It is highly possible.” Her father got to his feet and put his hands on her shoulders. “So promise me you won’t go running about country byroads in your car, even during daylight hours. If you must go out at night, either I or Arthur must be in the car with you.” (Arthur was the Dixons’ chauffeur-gardener.) “There’s no use trying to pretend I’m not worried about this mysterious business. Be a good girl and don’t make it harder for me, please.”

      “I’ll be good, Daddy. If I find out anything tomorrow, I’ll report at dinner.”

      “That’s my girl,” he СКАЧАТЬ