them my son just got on, but he dropped his wallet and I want to give it to him. I carry a wallet in my hand, and that works best of all."
"Yes," Tanya said, "I imagine it would. You seem to have thought everything out very carefully." She had plenty of material, she mused, for a bulletin to all gate agents and stewardesses. She doubted, though, if it would have much effect.
"My late husband taught me to be thorough. He was a teacher---of geometry. He always said you should try to think of every angle."
Tanya looked hard at Mrs. Quonsett. Was her leg being gently pulled?
The face of the little old lady from San Diego remained impassive. "There's one important thing I haven't mentioned."
On the opposite side of the room a telephone rang. Tanya got up to answer it.
"Is that old biddy still with you?" The voice was the District Transportation Manager's. The D.T.M. was responsible for all phases of Trans America operations at Lincoln International. Usually a calm, good-natured boss, tonight he sounded irascible. Clearly, three days and nights of flight delays, rerouting unhappy passengers, and endless needlings from the airline's Eastern head office were having their effect.
"Yes," Tanya said.
"Get anything useful out of her?"
"Quite a lot. I'll send you a report."
"When you do, use some goddarn capitals for once, so I can read it."
"Yes, sir."
She made the "sir" sufficiently pointed, so there was a momentary silence at the other end. Then the D.T.M. grunted. "Sorry, Tanya! I guess I'm passing on to you what I've been getting from New York. Like the cabin boy kicking the ship's cat, only you're no cat. Can I do anything?"
"I'd like a one-way passage to Los Angeles, tonight, for Mrs. Ada Quonsett."
"Is that the old hen?"
"The same."
The D.T.M. said sourly, "I suppose, a company charge."
"I'm afraid so."
"What I hate about it is putting her ahead of honest-to-goodness fare-paying passengers who've been waiting hours already. But I guess you're right; we're better off to get her out of our hair."
"I think so."
"I'll okay a requisition. You can pick it up at the ticket counter. But be sure to alert Los Angeles, so they can have the airport police escort the old hag off the premises."
Tanya said softly, "She could be Whistler's Mother."
The D.T.M. grunted. "Then let Whistler buy her a ticket."
Tanya smiled and hung up. She returned to Mrs. Quonsett.
"You said there was an important thing---about getting aboard flights---that you hadn't told me."
The little old lady hesitated. Her mouth had tightened noticeably at the mention, during Tanya's conversation, of a return flight to Los Angeles.
"You've told me most of it," Tanya prompted. "You might as well finish. If there's anything else."
"There certainly is." Mrs. Quonsett gave a tight, prim nod. "I was going to say it's best not to choose the big flights---the important ones, I mean, that go non-stop across the country. They often get full, and they give people seat numbers, even in Economy. That makes it harder, though I did it once when I could see there weren't many others going."
"So you take flights that aren't direct. Don't you get found out at intermediate stops?"
"I pretend to be asleep. Usually they don't disturb me."
"But this time you were."
Mrs. Quonsett pressed her lips in a thin, reproving line. "It was that man sitting beside me. He was very mean. I confided in him, and he betrayed me to the stewardess. That's what you get for trusting people."
"Mrs. Quonsett," Tanya said. "I imagine you heard; we're going to send you back to Los Angeles."
There was the slightest gleam behind the elderly, gray eyes. "Yes, my dear. I was afraid that would happen. But I'd like to get a cup of tea. So, if I can go now, and you'll tell me what time to come back..."
"Oh, no!" Tanya shook her head decisively. "You're not going anywhere alone. You can have your cup of tea, but an agent will be with you. I'm going to send for one now, and he'll stay with you until you board the Los Angeles flight. If I let you loose in this terminal I know exactly what would happen. You'd be on an airplane for New York before anybody knew it."
From the momentary hostile glare which Mrs. Ouonsett gave her, Tanya knew she had guessed right.
Ten minutes later, all arrangements were complete. A single seat reservation had been made on Flight 103 for Los Angeles, leaving in an hour and a half. The flight was non-stop; there