Molly Brown of Kentucky Read online

  CHAPTER XXI.

  THE FLIGHT.

  Judy felt that perhaps she was not quite fair to Jo to test her by thisinterview, but she did long to speak to her. If Kent and Cousin Sallyrecognized her, she knew full well she could trust them to keep silent.

  Philippe crossed the field and stopped the daring little aviator justafter he had made his report to the commander.

  "A young lady is asking for you."

  "A young lady for me? Absurd!"

  "Yes, she has heard of your wonderful feats and longs to meet you,"teased Philippe; and then added: "Really, Williams, you are superb."

  "Not at all! Well, I am tired and don't want to meet any young ladies."

  "But this one already knows you," and Philippe produced Judy's card.

  "Miss Julia Kean," Jo read in amazement. "How did she get out here,anyhow? Where is she?"

  "Over here with my mother," and Philippe looked with some amusement atthe evident blush that spread over Jo's freckled cheeks. She still hadon the grotesque cap and goggles which would have made recognition ofher difficult. She wanted very much to see Judy. She wanted to hearsomething of her Polly, too, and she intended to have Judy look him upif possible, and report to her.

  "Will you see her?"

  "Sure!"

  "Miss Kean is a charming girl, Williams, isn't she?" said the quizzingPhilippe, looking searchingly at his companion as they made their wayacross the field.

  "You bet!" said Jo.

  "Have you known her long?"

  "Quite a while," and Jo's cheeks again were suffused with a dark flush.

  "Poor little fellow!" thought Philippe. "I can't bear to tell him sheis to be married. He is such a dare devil the chances are he will bekilled before long and he may never have to know that his inamorata haschosen a better looking man, not a better man--they don't make them tobeat little Williams."

  As they approached the car, impulsive Judy jumped out and ran to meether friend. Jo ran, too, and they embraced with such ardor that Philippestood back amazed. Maybe Kent Brown was not to be so envied, after all.If the girl who was to marry him in a day was so lavish with herembraces for other men, what kind of wife would she make? Of course,Williams was a rather dried up person, but then a man's a man for a'that.

  Kent, too, was rather astonished when his fiancee left him with suchprecipitation and before all the aviation camp hugged and kissed thestrange bunchy little figure. Ardor for the heroes of France was allwell enough, but a fellow's sweetheart need not be quite so warm in hermanner of showing her appreciation, especially when the fellow happensnot to be one himself in the habit of making daily daring flights to spyout the weakness in the trenches of the enemy.

  The Marquise laughed as she had not done since the first week in Augustof that terrible year. Kent looked at her in astonishment. She was notso very much like his mother, after all. His mother would not have beenso much amused over the discomfiture of a young lover.

  That matron was saying to herself: "How stupid men are!" She hadrecognized Jo from the beginning. Kent had known in some far off cornerof his brain that Mrs. Polly Perkins was doing something or other aboutthe war, but his mind had been so taken up with his own affairs andJudy's possible danger that that knowledge had stayed in the corner ofhis brain while the more important matter of getting married wasuppermost. Suddenly the truth flashed over him and he was overcome withlaughter, too.

  "Caught on, eh?" asked his cousin.

  He nodded.

  "We must keep mum," she admonished. "There is no reason why a womanshould not do her part this way if she can. I'd fly in a minute if thatwould help any. Of course these stupid men would raise a hue and cry ifthey knew a woman was carrying off the honours."

  "I am as quiet as the grave," declared Kent.

  Judy came to the car with her friend and with the utmost audacityintroduced Jo as Mr. Williams. The Marquise greeted the supposed youngman graciously. Kent sprang out and shook Jo warmly by the hand, muchto the astonishment of his cousin Philippe.

  "Can't I see you a moment alone?" whispered Jo in Judy's ear. TheMarquise, as though she divined what was in the heart of Mrs. PollyPerkins, asked her to come sit in the car; and then she suggested thatPhilippe show the camp to Kent and on second thought decided to go withthem. The chauffeur had been sent with the hamper to the mess hall, soJudy and Jo had a few minutes alone.

  "I must find out something about Polly. I feel as though I could waitno longer for news of him. Can't you help me?"

  "Well, you know I am to be married to-morrow and sail for United States,but I am going to see that news is got to you somehow. Cousin Sally willdo it, of course. She is the very person."

  "Oh, but that Philippe must not know. He has already been very curiousabout where he has seen me before, and I have had to be insufferablyrude to him to keep him from prying into my past. I have made good asa man, but still they would not like it, I know."

  "How on earth did you ever get in? I am dying to hear all about it."

  "Well, naturally the examination for physical fitness was worrying mesome. I got that little dried up art student named Joel Williams, theone who was always trying to claim kin with me, to take the examinationand then let me slip in in his place. I bought his ticket to America topay him for his trouble. He was broke, as usual, and scared to deathwhen the war started, and willing to do anything to get home. It wasreally very simple to manage it. I am the same type, in a way, althoughI hope I am not so dried up as my would-be cousin. Same initials, too,which made the entering rather more regular."

  "Oh, Jo, what a girl you are!"

  "Shh! Don't call me a girl even to yourself. Do you think the Marquised'Ochte recognized me?"

  "Of course she did and Kent, too! Do you think they would have left usalone if they had not thought you were safe? Kent wouldn't have left mewith such a bird if he had not known who the bird was. He would beafraid I might fly away with you. Oh, Jo, I do so want to fly!"

  "Well, why not?"

  "Oh, could I really?"

  "I think so. I have brought in information to our commander that isvaluable enough for me to ask one small favor of him. Come on, let'sask!"

  The two girls were across the field and knocking for admittance at theCommander's tent before the Marquise and the two young men had beguntheir tour of inspection.

  "A favor to ask!" exclaimed the grizzled old warrior who sat poring overa map where Jo had only a few moments before added some crosses thatmeant much to the tactics of the French army.

  "I want to take a friend up in a machine."

  "A friend! I am sorry, my son, but it is hard to tell friends in thisday of war. I can't let you. He might be no friend, after all, toFrance."

  "He! It is not a man but an American girl. She is just outside yourtent," and Jo raised the flap and motioned Judy to enter. Judy wasintroduced. The old warrior looked at her searchingly.

  "Tell me, are you related to Robert Kean?"

  "His daughter, sir."

  "Robert Kean's daughter! Why, my child, your father and I have beenclose friends for years. Tell me where he is and what he is doing."

  So Judy told of her father's letter and his being held in Berlinbecause of the knowledge he had of Turkey's topography. She made himlaugh long and loud when she told of the ridiculous limericks he hadwritten on the paper boats.

  "And you, Robert Kean's daughter, want to fly, and to fly with ourbravest and most daring aviator! Well, don't fly off to America withhim,--and God bless you, my children," and he gave Judy a fatherlyembrace and went back to his map.

  When Kent got back to the car with his cousin, there was no Judy.

  "Where can she have gone and where is Williams?"

  Philippe looked rather mysterious. Young girls who rushed up andembraced bird men with such ardor should not be allowed too much rope.

  "No doubt she will be back soon. Williams is perhaps showing her thecamp. Look, there goes another machine up! Two in it! By Jove, it isWilliams! I can tell by hi
s way of starting. He has such a smoothgetaway always. Could the passenger be Miss Kean?"

  "More than likely," said Kent composedly. "She has always been crazy tofly. I reckon Williams will take good care of her and not go too high ortry any stunts."

  "Oh, certainly not!" said Philippe wonderingly. Americans were a riddleto him. He never quite understood his own mother, who had rather acasual idea of proprieties herself at times. That good lady, coming upjust then, expressed no concern over the impropriety of Judy's flyingwith a man when she was to be married on the morrow to some one else.

  Kent sat in the car with his cousin Sally and together they enjoyedJudy's flight. Jo took her as close to the fighting line as she dared,but she had no idea of endangering the life of her passenger. Theydipped and curved, for the most part confining their maneuvers to thevicinity of the camp. Judy never spoke one word, but held her breath andwept for sheer joy.

  "To be flying! To be flying! Oh, Judy Kean, you lucky dog!" she said toherself. "All my life I've been dreaming I could fly and now I am doingit."

  "Dizzy?" asked Jo.

  "No, but happy enough to die," gasped Judy. "If I wasn't going to bemarried, I'd be a bird man."

  When the landing was finally made and Judy stepped out, the world seemedvery stale, flat and unprofitable. She was glad Kent was there waitingfor her. If she could not be a bird man, she could at least be a veryhappy war bride. The great leather coat she had worn in her flight wasvery ugly and unbecoming, and she was thankful for one thing that shedid not have to wear such frightful looking clothes all the time.

  On the way back to Paris she asked cousin Sally how she had recognizedJo Williams so readily.

  "By her feet, of course! Why, no man on earth ever had such eternallyfeminine feet." That good lady promised to find out immediatelysomething about Polly and let his spunky wife know where and how he was."She will have the Cross of Honour before she gets through, Philippesays."

  "You don't feel as though it were your duty to tell she is a woman, doyou?" asked Judy.

  "Duty to tell! Heavens, child! I feel it is my duty to help France inevery way I can, and surely to get that girl out of the aviation corpswould be a hindrance to _la Patrie_. I doubt even Philippe's thinking ithis duty to tell, and," with a twinkle in her eye that the horrors ofwar could not altogether dim, "Philippe has a very stern idea of hisduty. He felt maybe it was his duty to get in a flying machine and goafter you and Mr. Williams so he could chaperone you. He felt that thedignity of the family was at stake,--so soon to be the bride of hiscousin and flying with another man! Terrible!"

  "Why, of course! I never thought of how it looked. There I went andhugged and kissed Jo right before everybody. I bet you a sou thisminute Philippe and all the rest of them are feeling sorry for you,Kent."

  "Well, they needn't be," declared that young man as he found Judy's handunder the robe. "I'm satisfied--but I did feel a little funny for half aminute when you went and kissed Jo so warmly. It took me a moment longerto recognize her. Why didn't you put me on?"

  "Put you on? How could I, with all the people around?"

  "You promised me once you wouldn't fly with anybody until you could flywith me. Don't you remember?"

  "Of course I did, you goose! But I didn't say anybody--I said any man;so you see I didn't break my promise when I flew with Mrs. PollyPerkins!"