CHAPTER XXII THE SILVER SHIP
Early on the following morning two planes left the airport. One wassmall. It resembled a dragon fly. In it rode Jeanne and Madame Bihari.The other was a great bi-motored cabin plane. It carried as itsstewardess our good friend Rosemary Sample. Her passengers were asinteresting a group as you might hope to meet.
They were destined, these planes, for the same little city, Happy Vale.Both Jeanne and Rosemary were ignorant of this fact. So it is in life,two congenial souls travel for years along the same path, allunconscious of one another's nearness.
Rosemary's interest in her passengers increased as she became betteracquainted with them. They were, she discovered, from theUniversity--sociologists, teachers of ethics, psychologists--alldelightfully simple, kindly people who laughed and joked about the longstrings of letters Ph.D., LL.D. and the like, attached to their names.
She was not long in discovering that a tall thin man with long hair andthick glasses named H. Bedford Biddle had chanced upon what he spoke ofas a "rare find" in the field of sociology. They were all, it seemed,going for a look at his "find."
The "find," she knew in advance, was Danby Force's cotton mill and hislittle city of Happy Vale. She was thrilled at the thought of seeing himonce more.
As she listened to these learned men discussing the "find" she realizedthere was much she could tell them about it. Not being asked, however,she kept silent. She smiled from time to time at their curiously learnedremarks about a thing that to her had seemed quite simple and verybeautiful, a group of common people, working together to make theirlittle city the happiest, most contented in all the world.
They landed on the outskirts of a beautiful little city. A bus carriedthem to the factory. There they were met by Danby Force who had a veryspecial message for the little stewardess.
"I wanted you to come." It was a rare smile he gave her, something quitespecial that warmed her heart. "I felt you were interested and wouldtruly understand."
"And is--have you--"
"No." His voice was low. "We have not found her. We have no true notionof the harm she may have done. We can only hope." He was speaking,Rosemary knew, of the spy.
It was an hour later when, after a frugal repast wonderfully prepared,they were ready to enter the mill.
Rosemary had dropped modestly to the rear of the group when of a suddenshe noted some stranger joining their party. With a quick eye for facesshe already knew all her party well. "He is not of our party, and yet,"she told herself, "there is something familiar about him. He gives methe shivers. I wonder why."
A little later she was thinking to herself, "Wonder if he has beeninvited to join us. None of my affair--but--" But what? She did notknow.
Invited or no, the youth did join this group. He did go with them. ToRosemary his attitude was disconcerting. A part of the time he seemedquite indifferent, the rest of the time he was like one on tip-toes.Drinking in every word that was said, at the same time he went throughstrange motions, fumbling first at his vest, then at his pockets.
Their journey through the plant was half over.
"No," Danby Force was saying, "this is not Utopia. We have made mistakesand been criticized. Members of our group have complained and claimedunfair treatment. Some have moved away. This is human. But we are tryingto live up to our motto: 'Do something for someone else.' We--"
For the first time, with no apparent reason, the mysterious strangerlooked Rosemary square in the eyes. His black eyes flashed a darkchallenge. Instantly she knew this was no youth. This was the mysteriousdark lady! By the gleam of an eye she had made this discovery. Thiswoman had changed her complexion and her disguise. She had returned formore facts, perhaps for the secret formula. And what was she, RosemarySample, to do about it? Inside her a tumult was raging. Externally shewas calm. "I must think," she told herself, "think calmly. And then Imust act."
In the meantime Jeanne too had made a discovery. Was it important? Whocould tell? An hour after Rosemary's party left the small landing fieldat Happy Vale, Jeanne's dragon fly came circling down to at last taxi toa position close beside a small silver plane.
"That ship," Jeanne said to Madame, "looks familiar. And--" she clappedher hands. "I know where I saw it before."
Her heart skipped a beat as, making a dash for it, she peered within."Oh!" she breathed out her disappointment. "She is not there!" This wasthe luminous silver ship that one night had hovered over her goldentree, the very one she had followed so far next day. She was sure ofthat. A young man sat at the wheel. He seemed about to start the plane.
Throwing open the door, he said, "Howdy, sister. What can I do for you?"
"Wh--where is she?" Jeanne asked breathlessly.
"She?" He appeared not to understand.
"The dark lady."
"Which one?" He laughed. "I'm told there are several in America."
At that Jeanne decided to give him up. "Only one more question," shethought.
"How do you make it shine all over at night?" she asked.
"There are ten thousand holes in the fusilage and the planes," heexplained in a friendly tone. "Neon tubes made of a special kind ofglass run everywhere inside the plane. When we light these tubes theyshine out through all the little holes. Simple, what?"
"Very simple," Jeanne agreed.
A moment later she saw him go bobbing across the field to rise at lastand soar away.
"All the same," Jeanne told herself, "he _did_ once have that dark lady,the spy, as a passenger. Wonder if he has her still?" She concluded thatplane would bear watching if it ever returned.