CHAPTER XII--JUST ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER
It was far from a pleasant meeting. Dickie looked about as amiable as awind or thunder demon, in front of a Japanese temple. That oscillatoryperformance beneath the "kissing-oak," as the noble tree was called, hadbeen almost too much for Dickie. He seemed to have trouble inarticulating.
"You're a nice one, aren't you?" he managed at length to say, and histones were like the splutter of a defective motor. "You ought to begiven a leather medal."
"Could I help it?" said Bob wearily. And then because he was too much ofa gentleman to vouchsafe information incriminating a lady: "Usual place!Customary thing! Blame it on the oak! Ha! ha!" This wasn't evading thetruth; it was simply facetiousness. Might as well meet this trio ofdodging brigands with a smiling face! Dickie's vocal motor failed toexplode, even spasmodically; that reply seemed to have extinguished him.But the commodore awoke to vivacity.
"Let us try to meet this situation calmly," he said, red as aturkey-cock. "But let us walk as we talk," taking Bob's arm and leadingthat young man unresistingly down a path to the driveway to the village."I shouldn't by any chance want to encounter Mrs. Dan just yet," heexplained. "So if you don't mind, we'll get away from here, while Iexplain."
Bob didn't mind. He saw no guile in the commodore's manner or words. Nordid he observe how Clarence looked at Dickie. The twilight shadows werebeginning to fall.
"Briefly," went on the commodore, as he steered them out of the woods,"our worst fears have been realized. Negotiations with Gee-gee are inprogress. Divorce papers will probably follow." Clarence on the otherside of Dickie made a sound. "All this is your work." The commodoreseemed about to become savage, but he restrained himself. "No usespeaking about that. Also, it is too late for us to call the wager offand pay up. Mischief's done now."
"Why not make a clean breast of everything?" suggested Bob. "Say it wasa wager, and--"
"A truth-telling stunt? That _would_ help a lot." Contemptuously.
Dickie muttered: "Bonehead!"
"I mean, you can say there wasn't any harm," said Bob desperately. "Thatit was all open and innocent!"
"Much good my saying that would do!" snorted Dan. "You don't know Mrs.Dan."
"Or Mrs. Clarence," said Clarence weakly.
Bob hung his head.
"We've thought of one little expedient that may help," observed Dan,still speaking with difficulty. "While such influences as we couldsummon are at work on the New York end, we've got to square mattershere. We've got to account for your--your--" here the commodore nearlychoked--"extraordinary revelations."
"But how," said Bob patiently, "can you 'account' for them? I supposeyou mean to make me out a liar?"
"Exactly," from the commodore coolly.
"I don't mind," returned Bob wearily, "as long as it will help you outand I'm not one. Only _I_ can't say those things aren't true."
"You don't have to," said Dan succinctly. "There's an easier way thanthat. No one would believe you, anyway, now."
"That's true." Gloomily.
"All we need," went on Dan, brightening a bit, "is your cooperation."
"What can I do?"
"You don't do anything. We do what is to be done. You just come along."
"We take you into custody," interposed Clarence.
"Lock you up!" exploded Dickie once more. "And a good job."
"Lock me up?" Bob gazed at them, bewildered. Had the temperamentallittle thing "peached," after all? Impossible! And yet if she hadn't,how could Dan and Dickie and Clarence know he was a burglar--or rather,that a combination of unlucky circumstances made him seem one? Perhapsthat kiss was a signal for them to step forward and take him. Historywas full of such kisses. And yet he would have sworn she was not thatkind.
"You're to come along without making a fuss," said the commodoresignificantly.
"But I don't want to come along. This is going too far," remonstratedBob. "I've a decided objection to being locked up as a burglar."
"Burglar!" exclaimed Dan.
"Don't know how you found out! Appearances may be against me, but,"stopping in the road, "if you want me to go along, you've got to makeme."
The trio looked at one another. "Maybe, he really is--" suggestedDickie, touching his forehead.
"Too much truth!" said Clarence with a sneer. "Feel half that way,myself!"
"Would be all the better for us, if it were really so," observed Dan.And to Bob: "You think that we think you're a burglar?"
"Don't you? Didn't you say something about locking me up?"
"But not in a jail."
Bob stared. "What then?"
"A sanatorium."
"Sanatorium?"
"For the insane."
"You mean--?"
"You're crazy," said Dan. "That's the ticket. Dickie found out, up atMrs. Ralston's."
"Oh, Dickie did?" said Bob, looking at that young gentleman withlowering brows.
"You bet I did," returned Dickie. "I put in a good day," viciously,"while you were fishing."
"Yes," corroborated the commodore, "Dickie found a dozen people whothink you're dottie on the crumpet, all right."
Bob folded his arms, still regarding Dickie. "You know what I've a mindto do to you?"
"Hold on!" said Dan hastily. "This matter's got to be handled tactfully.We can't, any one of us, give way to our personal feelings, however muchwe may want to. Let's be businesslike. Eh, Clarence? Businesslike."
"Sure," said Clarence faintly.
But Dickie, standing behind the commodore and Clarence, said somethingabout tact being a waste of time in some cases. He said it in such asneering nasty way that Bob breathed deep.
"I've simply got to spank that little rooster," he muttered.
But again the commodore smoothed things over. "Shut up, Dickie," he saidangrily. "You'll spoil all. I'm sure Bob wants to help us out, if hecan. He knows it's really up to him, to do so. Bob's a good sport." Itwas an awful effort for the commodore to appear nice and amiable, but hemanaged to, for the moment. "You will help us out, won't you?" he added,placing velvety fingers on Bob's arm.
But Bob with a vigorous swing shook off those fingers. He didn't intendbeing taken into custody. Dan and the others might as well understandthat, first as last. The commodore's voice grew more appealing.
"Don't you see you're being crazy will account for everything?"
"Oh, will it?" In a still small voice.
"Miss Gwendoline asked me if you'd showed signs before coming downhere?" piped up Dickie. And again Bob breathed deep. Then his thoughtsfloated away. Dickie was too insignificant to bother with.
"Hallucinations!" observed the commodore briskly. "Fits you to a T!"
Bob didn't answer. He was trying to think if _she_--MissGwendoline--hadn't said something about hallucinations?
"You simply imagined all those things you confided to Mrs. Dan. Youdidn't mean to tell what wasn't so, but you couldn't help yourself. Youreally believed it all, at the time. You are irresponsible."
"Maybe you'll tell me next there isn't any Gee-gee," said Bob. "Also,that Miss Gid-up is but an empty coinage of the brain?"
"No, we'll do better than that. The existence of a Gee-gee accounts, inpart, for your condition. First stage, Gee-gee on the brain; then,brain-storm! Gee-gee is part of your obsession!"
"You talk, think and dream of Gee-gee," interposed Clarence. "We've gotit all doped out. You are madly jealous. You imagine every man is inlove with her. You even attribute to Dan here, ulterior motives."
"I mentioned to Miss Gerald, privately, that a certain very fascinatingbut nameless young show-girl might be your trouble," said Dickie.
Again Bob did a few deep-breathing exercises, and again he managed toconquer himself.
"Don't you see we've simply got to lock you up?" said the commodore."You're a menace to the community; you're a happy home-breaker. You maydo something desperate."
"I might," said Bob, looking the commodore in the eye.
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bsp; Dan overlooked any covert meaning. "We take your case in time," he wenton. "You go into an institution, stay a week, or two--or shall we say,three," insinuatingly, "and you come out cured."
"Wouldn't that be nice?" said Bob. They were going to put truth in acrazy-house. That's what it amounted to. "But how about Gid-up? Did Ihave an obsession about her, too?"
"Oh, as Gee-gee's chum she is part of the brainstorm and that drags poorold Clarence in,--Clarence who is as ignorant of the existence of Gid-upas I am of Gee-gee."
"And that's the truth," said Clarence stoutly.
Bob laughed. He couldn't help it. Perhaps many of the people in jailsand crazy-houses were only poor misguided mortals who had gone wronglooking for truth. Maybe some of them had met with that other kind oftruth (Dan's kind and Clarence's kind) and they hadn't the proper visionto see it was the truth (that is, the world's truth).
"Got it fixed all right," went on the commodore. "Doc, up there at thehouse, has written a letter to the head of an eminently respectableinstitution, for eminently respectable private patients. It's not faraway and the head is a friend of Doc's. Dickie saw to the details. It'sa good place. Kind gentle attendants; nourishing food. Isn't that whatthe Doc said, Dickie?"
"I guess the food won't hurt _him_" said Dickie, regarding Bob. Maybe,Dickie wouldn't have minded if Bob had had an attack, or two, ofindigestion.
"Doc says they're especially humane to the violent," continued thecommodore, unmindful of Bob's ominous silence. It seemed as if Dan wastalking to gain time, for he looked around where the bushes cast darkshadows, as if to locate some spot. "None of that slugging orstraight-jacket business! Doc talked it over with the judge and some ofthe others. Judge said he'd committed a lot of people who hadn't actedhalf as crazy as you have. You see Dickie had to take him into hisconfidence a little bit and the Doc, too. Doc diagnosed your breakdownas caused by drugs and alcohol."
"So you made me out a dipsomaniac?" observed Bob.
"What else was there to do? Didn't you bring it on yourself?"
Dan now stopped, not far from a clump of bushes. Down the road stood astalled motor-car vaguely distinguishable in the dusk. Its occupant, oroccupants had apparently gone to telephone for help.
"You bet I made you out a 'dippy,'" said Dickie with much satisfaction.
A white light shone from Bob's eyes. Then he shrugged his broadshoulders.
"Good night," he said curtly and turned to go.
But at that instant the commodore emitted a low whistle and two mensprang out of the bushes. At the same moment the trio precipitatedthemselves, also, on Bob. It was a large load. He "landed" one or two onsomebody and got one or two in return himself. Dickie rather forgothimself in the excitement of the moment and was unnecessarily forceful,considering the odds. But Bob was big and husky and for a little whilehe kept them all busy. His football training came in handy. Numbers,however, finally prevailed, and though he heaved and struggled, he hadto go down. Then they sat on him, distributing themselves variously overhis anatomy.
"Thought I was giving you that charming little chat, just for thepleasure of your company, did you?" panted the commodore, from somewhereabout the upper part of Bob? "Why, I was just leading you here."
"And he came like a lamb!" said Clarence, holding an arm.
"Or a big boob!" from Dickie, who had charge of a leg.
Bob gave a kick and it caught Dickie. The little man went bowling downthe road like a ten-pin. But after that, there wasn't much kick left inBob. They tied him tight and bore him (or truth, trussed like a fowl),to the car. Some of them got in to keep him company. There wasn'tanything the matter with the car. It could speed up to about sixty, orseventy, at a pinch. It went "like sixty" now.
"If he tries to raise a hullabaloo, toot your horn," said the commodore,when he got his breath, to the driver. "At the same time I'll wave myhat and act like a cut-up. Then they'll only take us for a party offuzzled joy-riders."
"I don't think he'll make much noise now," shouted Dickie significantly,from behind. "We'll jolly well see to that."
"How long will it take you to make the bug-house?" the commodore askedthe man at the wheel.
"We should reach the private sanatorium in less than an hour," answeredthat individual.