just as accurate. Airlines took the view that stowaway incidents should not happen and, when they did, it was their own fault for failing to prevent them. On the same basis, airlines accepted responsibility for insuring that stowaways were returned to their point of origin and---since there was no other way to convey them---offenders went back in regular seats, getting normal service, including airline meals.
"You're nice, too," Mrs. Quonsett said. "I can always tell nice people when I meet them. But you're a lot younger than the others in the airline---those I get to meet, I mean."
"You mean the ones who deal with cheats and stowaways."
"That's right." The little old lady seemed unabashed. Her eyes moved appraisingly. "I should say you're twenty-eight."
Tanya said shortly, "Thirty-seven."
"Well, you have a young mature look. Perhaps it comes from being married."
"Come off it," Tanya said. "That isn't going to help you."
"But you are married."
"I was. I'm not now."
"Such a pity. You could have beautiful children. With red hair like your own."
Red hair, perhaps, but not with the beginnings of gray, Tanya thought---the gray she had noticed again this morning. As to children, she might have explained that she did have a child, who was at home in their apartment and, she hoped, asleep. Instead, she addressed Mrs. Ada Quonsett sternly.
"What you've done is dishonest. You've defrauded; you've broken the law. I suppose you realize you can be prosecuted."
For the first time, a gleam of triumph crossed the older woman's innocent face. "But I won't be, will I? They never do prosecute anybody."
There was really no point in continuing, Tanya thought. She knew perfectly well, and so apparently did Mrs. Quonsett, that airlines never prosecuted stowaways, on the theory that publicity would be more harmful than otherwise.
There was just a chance, though, that some more questions might produce information useful in the future.
"Mrs. Quonsett," Tanya said, "since you've had so much free travel from Trans America, the least you can do is help us a little."
"I'll be glad to if I can."
"What I'd like to know is how you get aboard our flights."
The little old lady smiled. "Well, my dear, there are quite a few ways. I try to use different ones as much as I can."
"Please tell me about them."
"Well, most times I try to be at the airport early enough so I can get myself a boarding pass."
"Isn't that difficult to do?"
"Getting a boarding pass? Oh, no; it's very easy. Nowadays airlines use their ticket folders as passes. So I go to one of the counters and say I've lost my ticket folder, and please may I have another. I pick a counter where the clerks are busy, with a lot of people waiting. They always give me one."
Naturally they would, Tanya thought. It was a normal request which occurred frequently. Except that, unlike Mrs. Quonsett, most people wanted a fresh ticket folder for a legitimate reason.
"But it's just a blank folder," Tanya pointed out. "It isn't made out as a gate pass."
"I make it out myself---in the ladies' room. I always have some old passes with me, so I know what to write. And I keep a big black pencil in my purse." Depositing the lace handkerchief in her lap, Mrs. Quonsett opened her black beaded purse. "See?"
"I do see," Tanya said. She reached out, removing the crayon pencil. "Do you mind if I keep this?"
Mrs. Quonsett looked faintly resentful. "It's really mine. But if you want it, I suppose I can get another."
"Go on," Tanya said. "So now you have a boarding pass. What happens after that?"
"I go to where the flight is leaving from."
"The departure gate?"
"That's right. I wait until the young man checking the tickets is busy---he always is when a lot of people come together. Then I walk past him, and on to the airplane."
"Suppose someone tries to stop you?"
"No one does, if I have a pass."
"Not even the stewardesses?"
"They're just young girls, my dear. Usually they're talking to each other, or interested in the men. All they look at is the flight number, and I always get that right."
"But you said you don't always use a boarding pass."
Mrs. Quonsett blushed. "Then, I'm afraid, I have to tell a little white lie. Sometimes I say I'm going aboard to see my daughter off---most airlines let people do that, you know. Or, if the plane has come in from somewhere else, I say I'm going back to my seat, but I left my ticket on board. Or, I tell