than fifty miles away. You take the Center Ridge road. It’s just a small town. You’d have a heck of a summer there.”

“It’s out in the direction Dave lives,” Doris remarked absently.

“Oh, sure, I forgot that!” Marshmallow drawled teasingly. “You’ll have a peach of a time.”

“And there’s an aviation field near Rumson,” Doris went on, scarcely noticing what her companion had said.

“That means Dave can fly down to see you every day or so. No wonder girls fall for fellows that are aviators!”

“Dave isn’t a full-fledged one yet,” Doris returned proudly, “but he’ll soon finish his flying course and then he expects to get a license.”

“Transport or marriage?” Marshmallow grinned.

“Oh, go chase yourself!” Doris retorted slangily.

Marshmallow got up from the porch and lazily stretched himself.

“I think I will,” he returned. “I can smell cookies baking in the kitchen, and I’ll just ankle around and coerce Mother into parting with a few dozen.”

After Marshmallow had gone inside, Doris continued to study the map for several minutes and then tossed it aside as she caught sight of her uncle coming up the walk. Eagerly, she ran to meet him.

“What have you in those packages?” she demanded.

“Oh, something nice for you.”

As he smiled indulgently down upon her, Doris could not but think how very fortunate she was to have such a generous and handsome uncle. Though Wardell Force was of middle age, with hair fast turning gray, he walked with the step of a boy and his energy was equal to that of any dozen average men. His voice was low pitched, but of singular quality which made one instinctively turn to listen when he spoke.

For many years he had conducted a successful drug store, but had retired from active business to follow his hobby of rescue mission work, welfare and charities. He was naturally a leader of men and in great demand to head committees and speak at important gatherings. Doris was proud of his ability to move large crowds with his magnetic voice. However, she sometimes felt that he was so engrossed in helping others that he neglected himself. Frequently, she had known him to go without a new suit of clothes that he might give the money to some deserving poor family.

“Uncle Ward, you’re always buying things for me,” she told him as she accepted the packages. “I don’t know why you’re so good to me.”

They sat down in the porch swing and Doris eagerly began to unwrap the parcels.

“Candy!” she exclaimed in delight. “And novelty jewelry, too. I can’t thank you enough!”

“Like the beads?” Uncle Ward asked. “I’m not much of a hand at picking out trinkets for the ladies. Thought they might be a little too conservative for a giddy red-head like you.”

“Pooh!” Doris scoffed. “I’m not giddy and you’re not conservative.”

Her uncle laughed and rumpled her curls. “Dory,” he began, the smile fading, “I’m afraid I shall have to leave you alone for a few days each week.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been named chairman of a committee to raise funds for fresh air camps and the campaign will be carried on all summer. That means I must go out of town frequently. We shall have to plan something nice for you to do during my absence.”

“Kitty Norris wants me to go camping with her. May I?”

A shadow passed over Wardell Force’s face.

“I have been intending to talk to you about the state of your finances for some time,” he said slowly, without answering her question.

Thoughtfully he stroked his hair, avoiding his niece’s eyes. How he hated to inform her that her funds were running low and that a camping trip was therefore inadvisable! Somehow, girls seemed to need a great deal of money.

“Don’t look so worried, Uncle Ward,” Doris said lightly, observing his preoccupation, and shrewdly guessing the thoughts which were passing through his mind. “I have news for you.”

Before she could tell him of the letter she had received from the Misses Gates, there was an unexpected interruption. Jake, the hired man whom Wardell Force had rescued from the slums many years before, came rushing up to the porch.

“There’s a plane going over,” he told Doris with a grin. “I’ll bet two cents it’s that boy friend of yours!”

For the first time, Doris became aware of the low hum of an airplane motor, and with her uncle following at a more dignified pace, rushed out into the yard.

“It is Dave!” she cried in delight, as she observed a bright red star on either wing of a monoplane which was heading directly toward the Mallow residence.

The plane rapidly approached, swinging so low that the observers on the ground could plainly see the intrepid young flier in the cockpit.

“You don’t suppose he can be having engine trouble?” Doris murmured anxiously. “I never saw him fly at such a low altitude before! Oh, I wish he wouldn’t take such risks!”

Her alarm was greater than that of either Jake or her uncle, but then, their interest in David Chamberlin was more impersonal. Doris had known the young aviator for several years and was well aware that his liking for her had steadily grown. However, since she was but sixteen and Dave only a few years older, her uncle refused to consider the affair as a serious one.

Wardell Force had looked after Doris with the interest and kindness of a father, and, as Mrs. Mallow frequently remarked, he had done very well for a bachelor. He had sent her to Barry Manor, a good boarding school, and had given her training by the best vocal teachers in the city. In some ways, Mr. Force had been overindulgent and he found it increasingly difficult to acquaint his niece with the stern fact that the few thousand dollars she had inherited were fast dwindling away.

Doris and her uncle made their home with Mrs. Thomas Mallow, renting a lovely upstairs suite, consisting of two bedrooms, bath and den. Mrs. Mallow, a plump and jolly widow noted for her ability as a cook, gave them their meals and was nearly as fond of Doris as she was of her own son. Doris was likewise a favorite of Jake, the hired man, though his devotion was expressed only by the way his eyes followed her whenever she was near. Wardell Force had told her little of what he knew concerning the man’s past, and since he had come to work at the Mallow residence he had been addressed only by the name of “Jake.” Though Doris was much too tactful to question him outright, she often had provided opportunity for him to tell the story of his life, but he had always seemed unwilling to offer any information.

“Oh, I do wish Dave wouldn’t try any stunts!” Doris exclaimed as she watched the monoplane slowly circle above the Mallow residence. “Why, he’s dropped something!”

As she spoke, she saw a piece of weighted paper fall from the plane. It struck the sidewalk a short distance away and before she could recover from her surprise, Jake had rushed to pick it up.

“Here you are, Miss Doris,” he said, handing it to her. “I ’spects it’s a love note.”

“If it is, it’s certainly a new way to get one!” Doris laughed.

Trying not to show her excitement, she quickly scanned the message. It read:

“Will stop in Saturday morning and take you to the big aviation meet in my roadster. Dave.”

The monoplane continued to circle at a low altitude and Doris, upon reading the note, promptly waved her handkerchief in token of assent. She watched until the plane had vanished toward the eastern horizon.