CHAPTER XXIV
The car that was bearing Shirley Hollister through the lonely woodedroad at a breathless speed suddenly came to a halt in the rear of anold house whose front faced on another road equally lonely. During thebrief time that they had been in the woods, the sky seemed to haveperceptibly darkened with the coming evening.
Shirley looked about her with increased fright. It was almost nightand here was her prison, far from town or human dwelling place. Eventhe road was at some distance in front of the house, and there weremore woods on either side.
"This here is Secretary Baker's summer home," announced the man who haddone the talking, as he climbed out of the car and opened the door forher. "You can just step in the back door and go through to the parlor;the help's all out this afternoon. The Secretary'll be down presently.He always takes a nap afternoons about this time. I'll tell him you'vecome."
There seemed nothing to do but obey, and Shirley chose to let the farcecontinue. Surely the man must know she was not a fool, but it wasbetter than open hostility. There was nothing to be gained byinforming him that she knew he was guying her.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, I trust myself to you!" she breathed in her heart asshe stepped across the leaf-strewn grass and looked about her,wondering whether she should ever walk the earth again after she hadstepped into the dim tree-shrouded house. But why go in?
"I think I will remain out here," she said calmly, albeit her heart waspounding away like a trip-hammer. "Please tell Mr. Baker to come to mehere. It is much pleasanter than in the house a day like this."
"Aw no! You won't neither! The Secretary don't receive in the openair even in summer," drawled the man, and she noticed that he and thedriver straightened up and stepped closer to her, one on either side.She gave one wild glance toward the open space. There was simply nochance at all to run away even if she succeeded in eluding them at thestart by a quick, unexpected dash. They were alert athletic men, andno telling how many more were hidden in the house.
"Oh, very well, of course, if it's a matter of etiquette!" said Shirleypleasantly, determined to keep up the farce as long as possible.
A cold, dark air met the girl as she stepped within the creaking doorand looked about her. At her left was an old-fashioned kitchen, dustyand cobwebby. A long, narrow hall led to the front of the house andher guide pointed her toward a room on the right. There was somethinghollow and eerie in the sound of their footsteps on the old oakenfloor. The room into which she was ushered was musty and dusty as therest. The floor was covered with an ancient ingrain carpet. The tablewas covered with a magenta felt cover stamped with a vine of blackleaves and riddled with moth holes. The walls were hung with oldprints and steel engravings suspended by woollen cords and tassels.The furniture was dilapidated. Everything was covered with dust, butthere were finger marks in the dust here and there that showed theplace had been recently visited. Through an open doorway an old squarepiano was visible in what must be the parlor. The place seemed toShirley fairly teeming with memories of some family now departed. Sheleaped to the quick conclusion that the house had been long desertedand had only recently been entered and used as a rendezvous for illegalconferences. It occurred to her that there might be an opportunity forher to hide her precious papers somewhere safely if it came to it thatshe must be searched. How about that piano? Could she slip some ofthem between the keys? But it was hardly likely that there would beopportunity for anything like that.
She felt strangely calm as she looked about upon her prison.
"H'm! He ain't come yet!" remarked her guide as he glanced into thefront room. "Well, you can set down. He won't be long now. Joe, youjest look about a bit and see if you can find the Secretary, and tellhim the young lady is here."
The man flung himself full length on the carpet-covered couch andlooked at her with satisfaction.
"What train was that you said you must make? I'm afraid now you mightbe going to be just a trifle late if he don't get a hustle on, but youcan't hurry a great man like that you know."
"Oh, it's no matter!" said Shirley coolly, looking around her with theutmost innocence. "What a quaint old house! Has it been in the familya long time?"
The man looked at her amusedly.
"You're a cute one!" he remarked affably. "I believe you're a prettygood sport! You know perfectly well you're in my power and can't do aturn to help yourself, yet you sail around here as calm as a queen!You're some looker, too! Blamed if I'm not enjoying myself. Iwouldn't mind a kiss or two from those pretty lips----"
But Shirley had melted through the doorway into the other room and hervoice floated back with charming indifference as if she had not heard,though she was ready to scream with loathing and fear of the man:
"Why, isn't this a delightful old piano? The keys are actuallymother-of-pearl. Isn't it odd? Would Mr. Baker mind if I played onit?"
And before her astonished captor could get himself to the doorway shehad sat down on the rickety old hair-cloth stool and swept the keyslightly. The old chords trembled and shivered as if awaking from atomb, and uttered forth a quavering, sweet sound like ancient memories.
The man was too much astonished to stop her, amused too, perhaps, andinterested. Her white fingers over the dusty pearls in the growingdusk had a strange charm for the hardened reprobate, like the wonder ofa flower dropped into the foulness of a prison. Before he couldrecover, he was startled again by her voice soaring out in the emptyechoing house:
Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee; Let the water and the blood From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Save me Lord and make me pure!
Perhaps those dim, gloomy walls had echoed before to the grand oldtune, but never could it have been sung in dire strait, or with moreearnest cry from a soul in distress. She had chosen the first wordsthat seemed to fit the chords she had struck, but every syllable was aprayer to the God in whom she trusted. It may be the man felt thepower of her appeal as he stood rooted in the doorway and listenedwhile she sang through all the verses she could remember. But the lasttrembling note was broken harshly by Joe's voice at the kitchen door insharp, rasping orders:
"Hist, there! Can that noise! Do you want to raise hell here? Wakeup, Sam! Get onto your job. Hennie's comin'."
"That's all right, Joe! Dry up! This is good Sunday School dope!This won't rouse no suspicions. Go to the devil and mind yourbusiness! I know what I'm about!"
Shirley was almost ready to cry, but she drew a deep breath and startedon another song:
Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high! Hide me, oh, my Saviour hide, Till the storm of life is past.
On through the time-worn words she sang, while the sin-hardened manstood silently and listened. His eyes had gradually lost their leerand grown soft and tender, as if some childhood memories of home andmother and a time when he was innocent and good were looking out hiseyes, reminding him of what he once intended to be before he ate theapple of wisdom and became as the gods and devils. Shirley graduallybecame aware that she was holding her strange audience; and a powerbeyond herself steadied her voice, and kept her fingers from tremblingon the old pearl keys, as she wandered on from song to song; perhapshappening on the very ones,--who knows?--that this man, standing in thedying twilight of the old gloomy house, had sung beside his mother'shearth or in church during his childhood? Certain it is that he stoodthere silent and listened for at least half an hour without aninterruption, while the light in the big room grew dimmer and dimmerand all about the house seemed still as death in the intervals betweenher voice. She was just beginning:
Abide with me, Fast falls the eventide, The darkness deepens, Lord, with me abide!
When the man put his hand in his pocket and brought out a candle.Scratching a match on his trousers, he lit the candle and set itcarefully on the piano, where its light fell flickering, waver
ing overher worn young face; and who shall say that she was not a messengerfrom another world to this man who had long trodden the downward path?
They were interrupted, however, before this song was finished by anewcomer who entered like a shadow and stood at the end of the pianolooking wonderingly from Shirley to the man, when she glanced up. Shestopped, startled, for although he wore no brass buttons nor blueclothes she was quite sure those were the same gray eyes that hadlooked at her from the recess of the window in the Government officethat afternoon, perhaps the same boy who had come after her car andsent her off on this long way into the wilderness.
The man Sam straightened up suddenly and looked about him half-ashamedwith an apologetic grin:
"Oh, you've come, have you, Hennie? Well, you been a long time aboutit! But now I guess we'll get to work. Where's Joe? Out on thewatch? All right then, Miss, if you've no objection, we'll just take alittle vacation on the psalm singin' and turn our attention to worldlythings. I calculate you're sharp enough to know what we brought youput here for? I acknowledge you can sing real well, and you sorta gotmy goat for a while there with all that mourning bench tra-la, for youcertainly have got that holy dope down fine; but now the time's comefor business, and you needn't to think that because I can enjoy alittle sentiment now and then in a leisure moment that you can putanything over on me, for it can't be did! I mean business and I've gotyou in my power! We're ten miles from any settlement, and no neighborsanywhere's about. Everybody moved away. So it won't do any good towork any funny business on us. You can't get away. We're all armed,and no one knows where you are! If you behave yourself and do asyou're told there won't be any trouble. We'll just transact ourbusiness and then we'll have a bit of supper, and mebbe a few moretunes--got any rag-time in your repitwar?--and then sometime aftermidnight, when the moon's good and dark, we'll get you back tocivilization where you won't have no trouble in gettin' home. But ifyou act up and get funny, why you know what to expect. There was ayoung girl murdered once in this house and buried in the cellar andever since folks say it's hanted and they won't come near it. That'sthe kind of a place we're in! So, now are you ready?"
Shirley sat cold and still. It seemed as if her life blood hadsuddenly congealed in her veins and for a second she felt as if hersenses were going to desert her. Then the echo of her own song: "Hideme, oh, my Saviour hide!" seemed to cry out from her soul silently andshe rallied once more and gained her self-control.
"Well, Miss," went on the man impressively, "I see you're ready for thequestion, and you've got your nerve with you, too, I'll hand you that!But I warn you it won't do no good! We brung you out here to get ahold of that note-book you wrote in this morning, and we're goin' tohave it. We know that Mr. Barnard left it in your care. Hennie hereheard him say for you to keep it. So it won't be of any use for you tolie about it."
"Of course!" said Shirley, standing up and reaching over for herhand-bag, which she had laid on the piano beside her while she played."I understand perfectly. But I'd like to ask you a question, Mr.----?"
"Smith, or Jones, whichever you like to call it. Spit it out!"
"I suppose you are paid to bring me out here, Mr. Smith, and get myproperty away from me?" she said gravely.
"Well, yes, we don't calculate to do it just for sweet charity."
"And _I_ am paid to look after my note-book, you see. It's a trustthat has been given me! I just _have_ to look after it. It's out ofthe question for me to desert it!" Shirley spoke coolly and held herlittle bag close in the firm grasp of her two hands. The man stared ather and laughed. The boy Hennie fairly gaped in his astonishment. "Agirl with all that nerve!"
"Of course, I understand perfectly that you can murder me and bury medown in the cellar beside that other girl that was murdered, andperhaps no one will find it out for a while, and you can go on having agood time on the money you will get for it. But the day will come whenyou will have to answer for it! You know I didn't come here aloneto-day----!"
Both men looked startled and glanced uneasily into the shadows, as ifthere might be someone lurking there.
"_God_ came with me and _He_ knows! He'll _make you remember_ someday!"
The boy laughed out a nervous ha! ha! of relief, but the man seemedheld, fascinated by her look and words. There was silence for a secondwhile the girl held off the ruffian in the man by sheer force of herstrong personality. Then the boy laughed again, with a sneer in theend of it, and the spell was broken. The leer came into the eyes ofthe man again. The sneer of the boy had brought him to himself,--tothe self he had come to be.
"Nix on the sob-stuff, girlie!" he said gruffly. "It won't go downwith me! We're here for business and we've been delayed too longalready. Come now, will you hand out that note-book or will we have tosearch you?" He took one stride across to where she stood and wrenchedthe hand-bag from her grasp before she was aware of his intention. Shehad not meant to give it up without a struggle, much as she loathed thethought of one. She must make the matter last as long as possible, ifperchance God was sending help to her, and must contest every inch ofthe way as far as lay in her power. Oh, had anyone picked up hercards? Had the book with its message reached any friendly eye?
Frail and white and stern she stood with folded arms while they turnedout the contents of the little bag and scattered it over the piano,searching with clumsy fingers among her dainty things.
The note-book she had rolled within her handkerchiefs and made it hardto find. She feared lest her ruse would be discovered when they lookedit over. The boy was the one who clutched for the little book,recognizing it as the one he had seen in the office that morning. Theman hung over his shoulder and peered in the candlelight, watching theboy anxiously. It meant a good deal of money if they put this thingthrough.
"Here it is!" said the boy, fluttering through the leaves and carefullyscrutinizing the short-hand characters. "Yes, that's the dope!"
He ran his eye down the pages, caught a word here and there,technicalities of manufacture, the very items, of course, that hewanted, if this had been the specifications for the Government order.Shirley remembered with relief that none of the details were identical,however, with the notes she carried in her shoes. The book-notes werein fact descriptive of an entirely different article from that demandedby the Government. The question was, would these people be wise enoughto discover that fact before she was out of their power or not?
Furtively she studied the boy. There was something keen and cunningabout his youthful face. He was thick-set, with blond hair and blueeyes. He might be of German origin, though there was not a sign ofaccent about his speech. He had the bull-dog chin, retreating foreheadand eagle nose of the Kaiser in embryo. Shirley saw all this as shestudied him furtively. That he was an expert in short-hand was provedby the ease with which he read some of her obscure sentences,translating rapidly here and there as he examined the book. Was hewell enough informed about the Government contract to realize thatthese were not the notes she had taken in the office that morning? Andshould he fail to recognize it, was there perhaps some one higher inauthority to whom they would be shown before she was released? Sheshivered and set her weary toes tight with determination over thelittle crinkling papers in her shoes. Somehow she would protect thosenotes from being taken, even if she had to swallow them. There surelywould be a way to hide them if the need came.
Suddenly the tense strain under which she was holding herself wasbroken by the man. He looked up with a grin, rubbing his hands withevident self-gratulation and relief:
"That's all right, Girlie! That's the dope we want. Now we won'ttrouble you any longer. We'll have supper. Hennie, you go get some ofthat wood out in the shed and we'll have a fire on the hearth and makesome coffee!"
But Shirley, standing white and tense in the dim shadow of the room,suddenly felt the place whirling about her, and the candle dancing afaroff. Her knees gave way beneath her and she dropped back to the pianostool weakly,
and covered her face with her hands, pressing hard on hereyeballs; trying to keep her senses and stop this black dizziness thatthreatened to submerge her consciousness. She must not faint--if thiswas fainting. She must keep her senses and guard her precious shoes.If one of those should fall off while she was unconscious all would beundone.