Kitabı oku: «The Automobile Girls at Newport: or, Watching the Summer Parade», sayfa 9
For an instant, Harry Townsend’s hand flew to his vest pocket. He rose, saying quietly to his companions: “Come away from here. Did you ever see such a stupid old fraud? A snake and a butterfly – a curious fortune indeed!”
CHAPTER XVIII – A WORD TO THE WISE
Barbara’s suspicion was now a certainty. Another person might not have been much wiser from Harry Townsend’s behavior during the telling of his fortune. But Barbara’s eyes were keen. The thief the detectives were seeking, the “Raffles” who was bowing and smiling his way through Newport society was none other than “Harry Townsend.” How to prove it? That was another matter.
“Bab,” said the other girls, appearing on her side of the tent, “what a string of nonsense you did put off on poor Harry Townsend. What on earth made you tell him about a butterfly and a snake? I suppose you had butterfly on the brain, since we had just told you of the robbery.”
“That is true,” assented Bab.
“Ruth!” Barbara turned to her quickly. “I am tired of my job. I want to quit this fortune-telling business at once. Let’s desert and go up to Mrs. Cartwright’s room and change our clothes. Do hurry!” she urged, a little impatiently.
“Oh, all right, Bab,” Ruth agreed. She stared at Barbara curiously. What had come over her friend? Harry Townsend always seemed to have such a strange effect upon her.
Barbara was thinking. How could she find the detectives, to tell them of her suspicions, while Harry Townsend still had in his pocket the jewel he had stolen?
“I want to ask you something, Mollie,” Bab announced, as the girls started for the house. “You’ll excuse a family secret, won’t you?” she asked of Grace and Ruth. “Mollie,” Bab whispered, “don’t speak out loud. Do you think you can discover who the two detectives are, and let me know as soon as I come downstairs? Don’t ask questions, please; only, I must know.”
Mollie shut her lips close together. “Yes, I’ll find out for you,” she promised.
Half an hour later, as the guests were being served with supper under the trees, Ruth and Barbara made their appearance.
“We just couldn’t keep away any longer,” they explained to their friends. “Oh, yes, we are feeling perfectly well again.”
Barbara called Mrs. Cartwright aside for a minute. “Is it true,” she asked, “that your diamond butterfly has disappeared?”
Mrs. Cartwright’s face clouded. “Yes,” she replied. “It has gone within the last hour or so. I had it fastened here on my dress with a long pin. If it was stolen by a guest, which I am coming to believe, then it was not such a difficult theft. I have been leaning over, laughing and talking, and any light-fingered – woman – or man – could easily have taken it out of my dress.”
Mrs. Cartwright shivered and turned pale, as she looked at the gay parties of people out on her lawn. “Isn’t it dreadful,” she said, plaintively, “to think that there may be a thief right over there among all my friends! But run along, now, child, and enjoy yourself. You and Ruth were the success of the afternoon. Everyone has asked me where I found my clever gypsies.”
Barbara wandered off alone. Before she had gone more than a few steps, Ralph Ewing joined her. “Please don’t come with me, Ralph,” she begged. “I want to find Mollie.”
“Well, why should that prevent my coming along, too?” Ralph asked. “I’d like to find Mollie myself. She hasn’t paid the slightest attention to me all afternoon.”
“I don’t want to be horrid, Ralph,” Barbara protested, nervously, “but please let me find her by myself.”
“Oh, certainly,” assented Ralph, walking quickly away.
Over by one of the lemonade stands that had been deserted at supper time Bab found Mollie.
“Bab,” she said, pulling her sister to one side, “do you see that tall, blond man, with the little, curly mustache? He is one of the detectives. I can’t find out where the other one is.”
A little later Ralph Ewing, who was still strolling around by himself, felt his face flush, partly with wounded pride, partly with anger. Barbara was not talking to Mollie. She was standing some distance off from the other guests, having an earnest conversation with a man whom Ralph knew to be a stranger in Newport.
Ralph was too proud to linger near them, since Bab had said so plainly she wanted none of his society. If he could have heard what she was saying he would have been even more horrified.
“Yes,” Barbara promised, “if you will come somewhere near us, when we are all together, this evening, I will give you a signal to show you the man I mean. His name is Townsend. He looks very young, is slender and is of medium height. Suppose, when you see us, I bow my head slowly in the direction of the man I mean? If you understand me, you can return my bow. Can you search him before he leaves the grounds?”
“No, miss.” The detective shook his head. “It would be impossible. He hasn’t the jewel on him now. If he’s the man we think he is, he is too smooth for that. He must have a confederate. If we search him here, and find no proof of his guilt, he will know all about us and our suspicions. Can’t you see, then, he would just clear out and leave us here to whistle for our pains?”
“Yes, I see,” said Bab.
“Thank you, miss, for telling us,” the detective continued. “I must say that emerald story sounds like the real thing. You’ve only guessed about the butterfly theft; but I think you’ve guessed right. Now we must go easy. If there is a Raffles, here in Newport, he is out for more plunder. He’ll make another bold attempt, and that will be our chance.”
“Well, I must go on back now to my friends,” murmured Barbara, uneasily. It seemed strange to be taken into confidence by the detective, as though she were in the same line of business. “I suppose you and the other detective can manage, now, to secure the thief. I would rather not have anything more to do with the matter.” Barbara gave a little shiver of repulsion.
“Oh, now, young lady,” protested the detective, “you mustn’t go back on us, just as the game commences. To catch a society thief we must have help from the inside. The best detective in the service can’t get on without it.”
“Where have you been, Bab?” inquired Miss Sallie, anxiously, when Barbara joined her friends a few minutes later. “I was beginning to get uneasy about you. Mrs. Cartwright wants us to come into the house for an informal dance. Do you feel well enough to go? I don’t think you look very well, child.”
Harry Townsend and Gladys came up at this minute. Harry had promised to take Miss Stuart indoors to watch the dancing. There was a curious, restless look in the man’s eyes, but his manners were as charming as ever.
This was Barbara’s chance. She lagged behind the others, and bowed her head slowly in the direction of Miss Sallie’s escort. A strange, blond man, with a curly light mustache, standing some distance off, returned her bow.
All evening Ralph did not come near Barbara. He devoted himself to Grace, who was wise enough to guess that Bab and Ralph must have had a quarrel. But Barbara did not understand. Not having realized that Ralph had felt snubbed when she dismissed him a little while before, she supposed he had grown tired of her.
To tell the truth, Barbara was dull. All the merry, sparkling fun had gone out of her for this one evening. Whether she danced, or talked or rested quietly, she saw Harry Townsend’s face as it had looked at her for a single minute in the gypsy tent. “I am not a coward,” thought Barbara, “but I shall have to be careful if he discovers I was the gypsy who told his fortune this afternoon.”
Barbara was right.
Harry Townsend knew there was just one person in Newport who suspected him of being a thief; this person must be put out of the way. The fine Raffles preferred not to use violence, but at any cost he must win.
Harry Townsend had not recognized Bab in the gypsy tent, which served, for the time, to avert his suspicions from her. He believed she had only arrived, when he met her with Miss Stuart late in the evening. Then who was the gypsy? Either Barbara had seen her, some time in the afternoon, and told her the story of the necklace, or there was some one else who believed he had had a part in the robberies. He must find out.
“Gladys,” Harry Townsend said, “don’t let us dance all evening. I have not had any kind of chance to talk to you alone. Come out on the veranda with me, won’t you?”
Gladys and Harry seated themselves on the front porch, whence they could look through an open window at the dancers.
“Do you know Mrs. Cartwright very intimately, Gladys?” inquired Mr. Townsend.
“Oh, no,” returned Gladys, pettishly. If Harry Townsend had brought her out on the veranda to talk about Mrs. Cartwright, then she might as well have stayed indoors. “Why do you ask?”
Harry Townsend frowned, then put his hands before his eyes. Gladys was so silly. She had served to introduce him to her friends at Newport. Now, if he could only make her useful in other ways!
“Are you angry?” Gladys asked after a moment, “What is it that you want to know about Mrs. Cartwright?”
“Oh, I don’t want to know anything about Mrs. Cartwright at all, Gladys. I am sorry I spoke of it, if the subject offends you. But I did feel a little curious to know where she got hold of the gypsies she had in the tent this afternoon. I thought you would be interested.”
“I am interested, Harry,” declared Gladys. She was only a spoiled child, and could not help showing it. “But I am not a favorite of Mrs. Cartwright’s. It’s my delightful cousins that she adores – Mollie and Bab. I can ask one of them to inquire.”
“Oh, no,” drawled Harry, “it is not of enough importance for that.”
For the next half hour Harry devoted himself to the whims of Gladys. He could see Barbara through the window, looking pale and tired. This gave all the more reason for believing that she had not recovered from the shock of her experience on the cliffs.
The cleverest man will sometimes make a false move. Harry Townsend was tired of Gladys, weary of her whims and foolishness. Besides, she had served his purpose; he was almost through with her.
“Shall we take a walk, Gladys?” he asked.
As they walked down the path toward the cliff, this up-to-date Raffles, whose fingers were more agile than a magician’s, pressed Gladys’s hand for a moment. At the same instant, he slipped her jeweled bracelet into his pocket. “I don’t want the bauble,” he said to himself, “but she might as well be punished for not doing what I ask her.”
At the same moment a blond man stepped out from among the bushes and asked Harry for a light for his cigarette.
Miss Stuart and her girls were saying good-night to Mrs. Cartwright. Hugh Post and Ralph were to escort them home. As Barbara came down the steps with her wraps on, some one touched her on the arm.
“Miss,” the detective whispered, “I know the man you pointed out to me; but I have got to see you again. Tell me how we can manage it.”
“Oh,” said Barbara, hopelessly, “I don’t know. Miss Sallie will be so angry!”
“You can’t quit us now,” the detective urged. “Why not come out in the morning, before any of your folks are up.”
“Yes,” agreed Barbara, quickly. She didn’t have time to refuse. Miss Sallie was coming toward her, and looked in surprise at Barbara’s strange companion. “Come on, child,” she said, “it is time you and Ruth were both in bed.”
“Down the street, two turnings to the right,” Barbara heard a voice behind her whisper, as she turned away.
Gladys was crying, as she made her way to Miss Stuart for comfort. “Miss Stuart,” she said, “I have lost my pearl bracelet. Mother told me it was too handsome for me to wear. Now she’ll be angry with me. I didn’t think it mattered if I wore it this one time. It was large, I suppose, and it slipped off my hand somewhere.”
“Never mind, Gladys,” advised Harry Townsend, coming up to her. “If it is stolen, the thief is sure to be caught.”
“Why do you stare at us so, Barbara?” demanded Gladys, angrily. “I am sure you look all eyes.”
“I beg your pardon,” murmured Barbara.
CHAPTER XIX – “EYEOLOGY”
All night long Bab tossed and tumbled in her bed. Should she keep her appointment with the detective? About daylight she fell asleep and wakened with her mind fully made up. Whatever the danger, she was in for it now. A clever thief was abroad in Newport; circumstances had led to her discovering him; well, she would do what she could to bring him to bay.
At six o’clock Barbara slipped quietly out of bed, without awaking Mollie, and stole noiselessly through the deserted halls of Mrs. Ewing’s great house. Not even the servants were about.
At the appointed place she found waiting for her two detectives instead of one.
“We’re wise to the thief,” said the larger, blond man, to whom Barbara had talked yesterday. “I never had my eyes off of him last night, after you pointed him out to me. I saw him slip a bracelet from a young lady’s arm out in the garden, just as coolly as you’d shake hands with a person. But it was no time to make a row then. I never let him know that I saw him. The fellow would have had a thousand excuses to make. I could see he was on pretty intimate terms with the young lady.”
“The truth is, miss,” interrupted the other detective, whom Bab saw for the first time this morning, “we think you have given us the clue to a pretty clever customer. We’ve been looking for him before. He’s known to the service as ‘The Boy Raffles.’ We tried to catch him two years ago when he played this same game at Saratoga. But he got off to Europe without our ever finding the goods on him. So you see, this time we’ve got to nail him. My partner and I,” the wiry little dark man pointed to the big blond one, “have been talking matters over and we believe this here ‘Raffles’ has got what we detectives call a ‘confed’ with him – some one who receives the stolen goods. So that’s why we want to ask your help. Have you any idea of anyone who could be playing the game along with him? We think he is giving the jewels to some one to keep in hiding for him. The gems have not been sent out of town, and we have made a thorough search of Mrs. Erwin’s house, where Townsend is staying. There is nothing there.”
“Could the young lady I saw him in the garden with last night be a partner of his?” asked the blond detective.
“Oh, my goodness, no!” cried Barbara, in horror. “She is my cousin, Gladys Le Baron.”
“Now, that’s just it, miss. You can see we need some one like you, who’s on the inside, to keep us off the wrong track. Can you suggest anyone else?”
Barbara was silent. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know of anyone now,” she said. “You’ll have to give me time to think and watch.”
“All right, miss, and thank you. You can write a note to this address if you have anything to communicate.” One of the men handed her a card with the number of a Newport boarding house on it. “My name is Burton,” said the big man, “and my assistant is Rowley. We both came up from the New York office, and we’re at your service, miss.”
On the way home Barbara tried to make up her mind whether she ought to tell Miss Sallie what she was doing.
“I don’t think it best to tell her now,” she concluded. “She would only be worried and frightened to death. What is the good? Miss Sallie would be sure to think that girls did not hunt for jewel thieves in her day. And she’d probably think they ought not to hunt for them in my day,” Barbara confessed to herself, honestly. “I’ll just wait a while, and see how things develop. Now I am in this detective business, I might as well confess to myself that it is very interesting.”
Barbara walked slowly. “I wish Ruth would find out how things are going,” she thought to herself. “She is so shrewd and she already guesses I have something on my mind. But Ruth was so positive I was wrong about Harry Townsend, at Mrs. Erwin’s ball, that she would probably think I was wrong again. So the female detective will pursue her lonely way for a little while longer – and then, I just must tell some one,” Bab ended.
Miss Sallie and the girls were coming down-stairs to breakfast, when Bab entered at the front door. Miss Stuart was plainly displeased with Barbara’s explanation. “I couldn’t sleep very well, Miss Sallie,” said Barbara, “and I went out for a walk.” “That is partly true,” she reflected, “but half truths are not far from story-telling.”
“Well, I must ask you, Bab,” said Miss Sallie, in firm tones, “not to leave the house again in the morning, unless some one is with you. I was most uneasy.”
“Didn’t Mollie give you the note I left on the bureau to explain where I had gone?” inquired Bab.
“Mollie did not see the note until we were almost ready to come downstairs. Naturally, we did not understand your absence.”
“I am so sorry, Miss Sallie,” cried Bab. “I never will do it again.”
Barbara was beginning to understand Miss Sallie better since Ruth’s accident. She knew that her cold exterior hid a very warm heart.
As for Miss Sallie, she finally smiled on Bab and gave her a forgiving kiss. “I could forgive Bab anything,” she thought to herself, “after her wonderful heroism in saving Ruth. I suppose I have to expect a girl of so much spirit to do erratic things sometimes.”
Ralph kept his eyes lowered when he said good morning and hardly spoke during breakfast.
“Ralph is out of sorts,” his mother complained, “but, man-like, he won’t tell what is the matter with him.”
“Perhaps you are tired from the party last night, Ralph?” suggested Mollie. Then Ralph laughed a mirthless laugh. “No, I am not tired, Mollie,” he replied.
Yet all through breakfast he did not once speak to Bab.
“Remember,” said Grace, “that our crowd and just a few other people are invited over to Mrs. Cartwright’s to-night. She is going to have a porch party, and we are to play the famous game ‘eyeology’ that she was talking of to Gladys the other day. Do you know what she means?”
Nobody at the table had ever heard of it.
“I begged Donald to tell me,” Grace added, “but he declares he is as much in the dark about it as the rest of us, and Mrs. Cartwright simply says, ‘wait and see!’”
“I suppose,” said Miss Sallie, “that you children never intend to rest again. I should think that Mrs. Cartwright would be perfectly used up from so much entertaining.”
“O Aunt Sallie,” pleaded Grace, “we shall rest well enough when we are back in sleepy old Kingsbridge. There is too much doing in Newport. And, you know, we’ve only about a week longer to stay. What a wonderful time we have had!”
“Let’s see what we have ahead of us,” pondered Mollie. “The only especially big things we know about are the tennis tourney and the ball after it. Then Miss Ruth Stuart and Mr. Hugh Post are to win a silver cup, in order to spread more luster upon the reputation of the automobile girls at Newport. Bab helped pull Ruth out of an abyss! The two girls held up a burglar! Ruth is a famous tennis champion! Only you and I are no good, Grace. What can we do for our country?” finished Mollie.
“Nothing at all, dear!” laughed Miss Sallie, and the rest of the party. “Much as I admire these two clever lassies, I am very glad to have my other two girls of a more peaceful and quiet variety, or my hair would certainly turn whiter than it is now, if that were possible.” Miss Stuart touched her snow-white hair, which was very handsome with her delicate skin and bright color.
“Now I insist,” she said, “that you girls have a quiet day if you are going out again this evening.”
“May I have a row on the bay with Ralph?” asked Barbara. “Have you forgotten, Ralph, that you invited me several days ago?”
“I am sorry, Barbara,” Ralph answered, quietly, “but I had forgotten it. If you will excuse me, I have something else on hand for today that I must attend to. Perhaps you will go with me some other time,” he proposed, without any enthusiasm.
“All right, Ralph,” Bab nodded. “Of course, I do not mind. We did not have a real engagement, anyway.” “He won’t let me make up with him,” Bab thought. “I wonder why he is so angry?”
At five o’clock Barbara came down on the veranda, dressed for the evening. She spied Ralph walking alone down the garden path, which was arched with trellises of crimson and pink rambler roses. There were several seats along the walk, and it had formed a favorite retreat for the girls ever since they had arrived at Mrs. Ewing’s home.
Perhaps another girl than Barbara would not have tried again to make friends with Ralph, after his refusal to take her boating in the morning; but Bab was so open-hearted and sincere that she could not bear a misunderstanding. She was fond of Ralph, he had been kind to her, and his manner toward her had changed so suddenly that she felt she must have done something to wound him. Bab did offend people, sometimes, with her quick speeches and thoughtlessness, but she was always ready to say she was wrong and to make amends.
“Ralph!” she called. “Ralph!” The boy was obliged to stop and turn round, as Barbara was hurrying after him.
“I want to talk to you, please,” she said, coaxingly. “You are not too angry with me to let me speak to you, are you?”
“I have not said I was angry with you, Miss Thurston,” replied Ralph.
“Now, Ralph!” Barbara put her hand lightly on his sleeve. “You know you don’t call me Miss Thurston. We decided weeks ago it was silly for us to call each other Miss and Mister when we were such intimate friends. I want you to do me a favor. Will you take me over to Mrs. Cartwright’s to-night? Donald and his guest, ‘the freshman,’ are coming for Grace and Mollie. Ruth, of course, is going over with Hugh, and I could go with them, but I want to talk to you. I can’t say what I have to say to you now, because already the girls are calling me. Please say you will take me.”
Barbara’s eyes were so pretty and pleading that Ralph felt his anger already melting. Yet Ralph’s feeling toward Barbara was not only anger. It was a much more serious thing, a growing sense of distrust. But he answered: “Of course, Bab, I shall be delighted to take you.”
Barbara and Ralph let the rest of their friends start ahead of them. They wanted to have their walk alone.
Miss Sallie had pleaded fatigue, and remained at home. “Besides, children,” she explained, “I am much too old to take any further interest in games, ‘eyeology,’ or any other ‘ology.’”
Ralph and Barbara walked in silence down the street for several minutes. Then Bab spoke. “Tell me, Ralph, what is the matter? If you were angry with a man you would tell him what the trouble was, if he asked you. It is not fair not to be open with me because I am a girl. If you think you are being more polite to me by not telling me why you are angry, then I don’t agree with you. I think you are acting a whole lot worse.”
Ralph continued to go on in moody silence.
“All right, then, Ralph,” said Barbara; “I can’t ask you any more questions, or beg your pardon, when I don’t know what I have done to offend you. Only I am sorry.”
“Oh, it isn’t that you have offended me, Bab,” Ralph burst out. “Do you suppose I would act like such a bear if you had just thrown me down, or some little thing like that, when we have been such jolly good friends before? I didn’t like your sending me off yesterday, when you went to look for Mollie, because – because – ”
“Go on, Ralph,” insisted Barbara.
“Very well, then, Bab; I was angry and hurt because, if you did join Mollie, you couldn’t have stayed with her a minute. I saw you, just afterwards, holding a long conversation with a strange man.”
“Well, Ralph,” argued Bab, “was that such a dreadful offense? I am sure I should not have been angry with you, if you had talked to any number of strange women.” Bab’s eyes were twinkling. She had made up her mind that she wanted a confidant. Here was Ralph, the best one she could have.
“That’s not all,” Ralph continued, “I did not mean to be an eavesdropper, but I was standing just behind you and I could not help overhearing that strange man make an appointment to meet you this morning. Say, Bab,” Ralph turned toward her, all his anger gone, “don’t do things like meeting that man this morning without telling. It’s not nice, and I’ve thought you the nicest, most straightforward girl I ever knew. If there is anything between you and that fellow, why should it be a secret? A girl can’t afford to have secrets, except with other girls.”
“But I want to have a secret with you, Ralph,” rejoined Barbara. “Now listen, while I tell you everything. I have never talked to you about the scene in the conservatory, the night of Mrs. Erwin’s ball, though I did appreciate what you did to help me out when I made that strange request of Harry Townsend. I was not crazy. I saw Harry Townsend steal Mrs. Post’s emerald necklace. Ralph,” Barbara’s voice was now so low that he had to bend over to hear her, “Harry Townsend is not what the people here think him. He is a professional thief, and a dangerous one.”
“Whew!” whistled Ralph. “What did you say?”
Then Barbara told him the story of the three thefts, from the beginning, and her own part in discovering them. “The detectives are on the lookout now, Ralph,” she added, “but they want me to keep a watch from the inside.”
“Well, you are a clever one, Bab!” declared Ralph. “Look here, I am glad you told me this. I appreciate it a whole lot, and I will not mention it to anyone until you tell me I may. But, remember one thing. I shall be on the watch, too, and it’s Miss Barbara Thurston I’ll be watching. That Townsend is a dangerous rogue. I’ve known there was something crooked about him from the first. Oh, it’s easy to say that, now, after what you have told me. I am not pretending I knew his special game. Only I knew he was not our sort. He is a whole lot older than he pretends to be, for one thing.”
“Ralph,” sighed Barbara, “do you think there is any way I could warn Gladys against Harry Townsend?”
Ralph shook his head. “Not any way that I know of. She would just snub you hard, if you tried. Even if you dared to tell her the truth she would go right off and tell that Townsend fellow. She’s been pretty hateful to you, Bab. I don’t see why you should care.”
“Oh, but I do care,” retorted Bab. “She has been horrid and stuck up, but she hasn’t done Mollie and me any real harm, and she is my cousin. Her father is my mother’s brother. Uncle Ralph has never been very fond of us, nor has he come to see us very much, but he looks after mother’s money. I don’t suppose,” wound up Barbara, thoughtfully, “he would do us any wrong. I shouldn’t like Gladys to get into trouble.”
“What has kept you children so long?” asked Grace, as Ralph and Barbara appeared on Mrs. Cartwright’s veranda. Then she squeezed Bab’s hand and whispered, so no one else could hear, “Made it up, Bab?” Barbara nodded, “yes.”
Mrs. Cartwright was heard speaking. “Sit down, everyone, over there where Jones has placed the chairs for us. Professor Cartwright,” she bowed to show she meant herself, “will now explain to his pupils, or his guests, the principles of the science of ‘eyeology.’ Human character is expressed in the human eye – our love, our hate, our ambitions, everything. But can we read the characters of people about us as we look into their eyes? No! Why not? Because the rest of the face confuses our attention. Instead of the steadfast beacon of the eye, we see the nose, the mouth, the hair, all the other features, and so we fail to understand the story the eye would tell us if it were alone. To-night I intend to instruct you in the proper understanding of ‘eyeology.’”
Mrs. Cartwright changed to her usual manner of speaking. “Don’t you think it would be amusing to make a test? Here Ruth,” laughed the hostess, “be my first pupil. Go into the drawing-room and wait there until I send for you. I want to find out how many of your friends you will know, when you see only their eyes.”
