CHAPTER XXAN UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE
For a week it was very quiet at Cragg's Crossing. The only ripple ofexcitement was caused by the purchase of Ingua's new outfit. In thisthe child was ably assisted by Mary Louise and Josie; indeed, findingthe younger girl so ignorant of prices, and even of her own needs, thetwo elder ones entered into a conspiracy with old Sol and slyly addedanother ten dollars to Ingua's credit. The result was that she carriedhome not only shoes and a new hat--trimmed by Miss Huckins withoutcost, the material being furnished from the fund--but a liberal supplyof underwear, ribbons, collars and hosiery, and even a pair of silkgloves, which delighted the child's heart more than anything else.
Miss Huckins' new dress proved very pretty and becoming, and with allher wealth of apparel Ingua was persuaded to dine with Mary Louise atthe Kenton house on Saturday evening. The hour was set for seveno'clock, in order to allow the girl to prepare her grandfather's supperbefore going out, and the first intimation Old Swallowtail had of thearrangement was when he entered the house Saturday evening and foundIngua arrayed in all her finery.
He made no remark at first, but looked at her more than once--whetherapprovingly or not his stolid expression did not betray. When the girldid not sit down to the table and he observed she had set no place forherself, he suddenly said:
"Well?"
"I'm goin' to eat with the Hathaways to-night," she replied. "Theirdinner ain't ready till seven o'clock, so if ye hurry a little I kinwash the dishes afore I go."
He offered no objection. Indeed, he said nothing at all until he hadfinished his simple meal. Then, as she cleared the table, he said:
"It might be well, while you are in the society of Mary Louise andColonel Hathaway, to notice their method of speech and try to imitateit."
"What's wrong with my talk?" she demanded. She was annoyed at thesuggestion, because she had been earnestly trying to imitate MaryLouise's speech.
"I will leave you to make the discovery yourself," he said dryly.
She tossed her dishes into the hot water rather recklessly.
"If I orter talk diff'rent," said she, "it's your fault. Ye hain't giveme no schooling ner noth'n'. Ye don't even say six words a week to me.I'm just your slave, to make yer bed an' cook yer meals an' wash yerdishes. Gee! how'd ye s'pose I'd talk? Like a lady?"
"I think," he quietly responded, "you picked up your slang from yourmother, who, however, had some education. The education ruined her forthe quiet life here and she plunged into the world to get theexcitement she craved. Hasn't she been sorry for it many times, Ingua?"
"I don't know much 'bout Marm, an' I don't care whether she's sorry ornot. But I do know I need an eddication. If Mary Louise hadn't had noeddication she'd 'a' been just like me: a bit o' junk on a scrap-heap,that ain't no good to itself ner anybody else."
He mused silently for a while, getting up finally and walking over tothe door.
"Your peculiarities of expression," he then remarked, as if more tohimself than to the child, "are those we notice in Sol Jerrems and JoeBrennan and Mary Ann Hopper. They are characteristic, of the ruralpopulation, which, having no spur to improve its vocabulary, naturallygrows degenerate in speech."
She glanced at him half defiantly, not sure whether he was "pokin' funat her" or not.
"If you mean I talks country talk," said she, "you're right. Whyshouldn't I, with no one to tell me better?"
Again he mused. His mood was gentle this evening.
"I realize I have neglected you," he presently said. "You were thrustupon me like a stray kitten, which one does not want but cannot wellreject. Your mother has not supplied me with money for your education,although she has regularly paid for your keep."
"She has?" cried Ingua, astounded. "Then you've swindled her an' meboth, for I pays for more'n my keep in hard work. My keep? For the loveo' Mike, what does my keep amount to? A cent a year?"
He winced a little at her sarcasm but soon collected himself. Strangelyenough, he did not appear to be angry with her.
"I've neglected you," he repeated, "but it has been an oversight. Ihave had so much on my mind that I scarcely realized you were here. Iforgot you are Nan's child and that you--you needed attention."
Ingua put on her new hat, looking into a cracked mirror.
"Ye might 'a' remembered I'm a Cragg, anyhow," said she, mollified byhis tone of self reproach. "An' ye might 'a' remembered as _you're_ aCragg. The Craggs orter help each other, 'cause all the world's ag'in'em."
He gave her an odd look, in which pride, perplexity and astonishmentmingled.
"And you are going into the enemy's camp to-night?"
"Oh, Mary Louise is all right. She ain't like them other snippy girlsthat sometimes comes here to the big houses. _She_ don't care if I _am_a Cragg, or if I talks country. I like Mary Louise."
When she had gone the old man sat in deep thought for a long time. Thesummer evening cast shadows; twilight fell; darkness gradually shroudedthe bare little room. Still he sat in his chair, staring straight aheadinto the gloom and thinking.
Then the door opened. Shifting his eyes he discovered a dim shadow inthe opening. Whoever it was stood motionless until a low, clear voiceasked sharply:
"Anybody home?"
He got up, then, and shuffled to a shelf, where he felt for a kerosenelamp and lighted it.
"Come in, Nan," he said without turning around, as he stooped over thelamp and adjusted the wick.
The yellow light showed a young woman standing in the doorway, a womanof perhaps thirty-five. She was tall, erect, her features well formed,her eyes bright and searching. Her walking-suit was neat and modish andfitted well her graceful, rounded form. On her arm was a huge basket,which she placed upon a chair as she advanced into the room and closedthe door behind her.
"So you've come back," remarked Old Swallowtail, standing before herand regarding her critically.
"A self-evident fact, Dad," she answered lightly, removing her hat."Where's Ingua?"
"At a dinner party across the river."
"That's good. Is she well?"
"What do you care, Nan, whether she is well or not?"
"If she's at a dinner party I needn't worry. Forgive the foolishquestion, Dad. Brennan promised to bring my suit case over in themorning. I lugged the basket myself."
"What's in the basket?"
"Food. Unless you've changed your mode of living the cupboard's prettybare, and this is Saturday night. I can sleep on that heartbreakinghusk mattress with Ingua, but I'll be skinned if I eat your salt junkand corn pone. Forewarned is forearmed; I brought my own grub."
As she spoke she hung her hat and coat on some pegs, turned the lamp alittle higher and then, pausing with hands on hips, she lookedinquisitively at her father.
"You seem pretty husky, for your age," she continued, with a hardlittle laugh.
"You've been prospering, Nan."
"Yes," sitting in a chair and crossing her legs, "I've found my forteat last. For three years, nearly, I've been employed by the SecretService Department at Washington."
"Ah."
"I've made good. My record as a woman sleuth is excellent. I make moremoney in a week--when I'm working--than you do in a year. Unless--" Shepaused abruptly and gave him a queer look.
"Unless it's true that you're coining money in a way that's not legal."
He stood motionless before her, reading her face. She returned hisscrutiny with interest. Neither resumed the conversation for a time.Finally the old man sank back into his chair.
"A female detective," said he, a little bitterly, "is still--a female."
"And likewise a detective. I know more about you, Dad, than you think,"she asserted, in an easy, composed tone that it seemed impossible todisturb. "You need looking after, just at this juncture, and as I'vebeen granted a vacation I ran up here to look after you."
"In what way, Nan?"
"We'll talk that over later. There isn't much love lost between us,more's the pity. You've always thought mor
e of your infernal 'Cause'than of your daughter. But we're Craggs, both of us, and it's the Craggcustom to stand by the family."
It struck him as curious that Ingua had repeated almost those verywords earlier that same evening. He had never taught them the Craggmotto, "Stand Fast," that he could remember, yet both Nan and her childwere loyal to the code. Was _he_ loyal, too? Had he stood by Nan in thepast, and Ingua in the present, as a Cragg should do?
His face was a bit haggard as he sat in his chair and faced hisfrank-spoken daughter, whose clear eyes did not waver before hisquestioning gaze.
"I know what you're thinking," said she; "that I've never been much ofa daughter to you. Well, neither have you been much of a father to me.Ever since I was born and my unknown mother--lucky soul!--died, you'vebeen obsessed by an idea which, lofty and altruistic as you may haveconsidered it, has rendered you self-centered, cold and inconsiderateof your own flesh and blood. Then there's that devilish temper of yoursto contend with. I couldn't stand the life here. I wandered away andgoodness knows how I managed to live year after year in a struggle withthe world, rather than endure your society and the hardships you thrustupon me. You've always had money, yet not a cent would you devote toyour family. You lived like a dog and wanted me to do the same, and Iwouldn't. Finally I met a good man and married him. He wasn't rich buthe was generous. When he died I was thrown on my own resources again,with a child of my own to look after. Circumstances forced me to leaveIngua with you while I hunted for work. I found it. I'm a detective,well-known and respected in my profession."
"I'm glad to know you are prosperous," he said gently, as she paused.He made no excuses. He did not contradict her accusations. He waited tohear her out.
"So," said Nan, in a careless, offhand tone, "I've come here to saveyou. You're in trouble."
"I am not aware of it."
"Very true. If you were, the danger would be less. I've always had toguess at most of your secret life. I knew you were sly and secretive. Ididn't know until now that you've been crooked."
He frowned a little but made no retort.
"It doesn't surprise me, however," she continued. "A good many folksare crooked, at times, and the only wonder is that a clever man likeyou has tripped and allowed himself to fall under suspicion. Suspicionleads to investigation--when it's followed up--and investigation, insuch cases, leads to--jail."
He gave a low growl that sounded like the cry of an enraged beast, andgripped the arms of his chair fiercely. Then he rose and paced the roomwith frantic energy. Nan watched him with a half smile on her face.When he had finally mastered his wrath and became more quiet she said:
"Don't worry, Dad. I said I have come to save you. It will be fun,after working for the Government so long, to work against it. There's acertain red-headed imp in this neighborhood who is the daughter of ourassistant chief, John O'Gorman. Her name is Josie O'Gorman and she's intraining for the same profession of which I'm an ornament. I won'tsneer at her, for she's clever, in a way, but I'd like to show O'Gormanthat Nan Shelley--that's my name in Washington--is a little more cleverthan his pet. This Josie O'Gorman is staying with the Hathaway family.She's been probing your secret life and business enterprises and hasunearthed an important clew in which the department is bound to beinterested. So she sent a code telegram to O'Gorman, who left it on hisdesk long enough for me to decipher and read it. I don't know what theassistant chief will do about it, for I left Washington an hour laterand came straight to you. What I do know is that I'm in time to spikeMiss Josie's guns, which will give me a great deal of pleasure. Shedoesn't know I'm your daughter, any more than O'Gorman does, so if thegirl sees me here she'll imagine I'm on Government business. But I wantto keep out of her way for a time. Do you know the girl, Dad?"
"Yes," he said.
"She's rather clever."
"Yes."
"I think she'd have nabbed you, presently, if I hadn't taken hold ofthe case so promptly myself. With our start, and the exercise of agrain of intelligence, we can baffle any opposition the girl can bringto bear. Do you wish to run away?"
"No," he growled.
"I'm glad of that. I like the excitement of facing danger boldly. Butthere's ample time to talk over details. I see you've had your supper,so I'll just fry myself a beefsteak."
She opened her basket and began to prepare a meal. Old Swallowtail satand watched her. Presently he smiled grimly and Nan never noticed theexpression. Perhaps, had she done so, she would have demanded anexplanation. He rarely smiled, and certainly his daughter's disclosureswere not calculated to excite mirth, or even to amuse.