Miss Maitland, Private Secretary

  CHAPTER XIX--MOLLY'S STORY

  It was nearly seven when we got back to Grasslands. We alighted assilent as we started, and I was following Miss Maitland into the hall,Ferguson behind me, when she turned in the doorway and spoke. She hadorders that the servants must know nothing; she was to tell them thatthe family would stay in town for a few days, and for me to be carefulwhat I said before them. Then, before I could answer, she glanced atFerguson and said good-by, her eyes just touching him for a moment andpassing, cold and weary, back to me. She'd wish me good-night, she wasgoing to her room and not coming down again--no, thanks, she'd take nodinner, she was very tired. She didn't need to say that. If I ever saw aperson dead beat and at the end of her string she was it.

  Ferguson stood looking after her. I think for the moment he forgot me,or maybe he wasn't conscious of what his face showed. Some way or otherI didn't like to look at him; it was as if I was spying on something Ihad no right to see. So I turned away and dropped into one of thebalcony chairs, sunk down against the back and feeling limp as a rag.

  Presently came his step and he was in front of me, his head bent downwith the hair hanging loose on his forehead, and his eyes like they werehooks that would pull the words out of me:

  "What happened up there at the Whitneys?"

  "Mr. Ferguson," I answered solemn, "I've told you more than I oughtalready. Is it the right thing for me to go on doing wrong?"

  "Yes," he says, sharp and decided, "it's exactly the right thing. Keepon doing it and we'll get somewhere."

  I set my lips tight and looked past him at the lawn. He waited a minutethen said:

  "I thought you agreed to trust me."

  "There's a good deal more to it now than there was then."

  "All the more reason for telling me. Of course I can get all I want fromMrs. Janney or either of the Whitneys; they don't let ladylike scruplesstand in the way. But that means a trip to town and I'm not ready totake it."

  It was surprising how that young man could make you feel like a worm whohad a conscience in place of common sense.

  "Have I got your word, sworn to on the Bible, if we had one here, not togive her a hint of it?"

  "Good Lord!" he groaned. "Don't talk like the ingenue in a melodrama.Let me see why the Whitneys think so much of you. You must have _some_intelligence--give me a sample of it."

  That settled it.

  "Take a seat," I said. "You make me nervous staring at me like the lionin the menagerie at the fat child."

  He sat down and I told him--the whole business, what she had said, whatthey had thought--everything. When I'd finished he rose up and, with hishands burrowed deep in his pockets, began pacing up and down thebalcony. I didn't give a peep, watching him cautious from under myeyelids.

  After a bit he said in a low voice:

  "Preposterous--crazy! She had no more to do with it than you have."

  "They think different."

  "I've gathered that. And Price had nothing to do with it either."

  It was all very well for him to stand by her, but to sweep Price off themap! I couldn't sit still and let him rave on.

  "Price hadn't? Take another guess. Price is the mainspring of it."

  "I'll leave guessing to you--it's your business, and you appear to do itvery well."

  "Say, drop me altogether. I'm only a paid servant. But you'll have toadmit that Mr. Whitney and his son count pretty big in their line."

  "Very big, Miss Rogers. But they've made a mistake this time--orpossibly been misled. The Janneys have never been fair to Price. They'reprejudiced and they've branded the prejudice on. He isn't an angel,neither is he a rascal. He didn't take his child, he never thought ofit, he couldn't do it."

  "Then who did?"

  "That's what I want to find out."

  "Jerusalem!" I said, sitting up, feeling like the peaceful scene aroundme was suddenly dark and strange. "You don't think she's _really_ beenkidnaped?"

  "I can't think anything else." He stopped in front of me, looking at mehard and stern. "I'd like to find another solution but I'm unable to."

  "But, gee-whizz!" I stared at him, all worried and mixed. "You can't getaway from the facts. They're all there--there's hardly a break."

  "I don't admit that. This man and woman have got characters and recordsthat haven't been considered--but even if you had a hole-proof caseagainst them I wouldn't believe it."

  "Oh, pshaw!" I said, simmering down, "you just believe what you want to.I've seen people like that before."

  "I daresay you have, I'm not a unique specimen in the human family. ButI'll tell you what I am just at this juncture--the only one among youthat's right." He drew back and gave a vengeful wag of his head at me."You've all gone off at half-cock--doing your best to ruin a man who'sharmless and a girl who's--who's--" he stopped, and wheeled away fromme. "Tch--it makes me sick! Hate and anger and jealousy--that's what'sat the bottom of it. I can't talk about it any longer--it's too beastly.Good-night!"

  He turned on his heel, ran down the steps and over the grass, clearingthe terrace wall with a leap. I looked after him, fading into the earlynight, disturbed and with a sort of cold heaviness in my heart. He wasno fool--suppose what he thought was true? Suppose that dear child whomI'd grown to love--but, rubbish! I wouldn't think of it. It was easy toaccount for the way he felt. Every little movement has a meaning of itsown--and the meaning in all his little movements was love. He had itbad, poor chap, out on him like the measles, and while you have to begentle with the sick you don't pay much attention to what they say.

  That was a dreary evening. There being no one but me around they servedmy dinner in the dining room, and it added to the strain. Some of thefood I didn't know whether to eat with a fork or a spoon, so I had topass up a lot which was hard seeing I was hungry. But when you're bornin an east side tenement you feel touchy that way--I wasn't going to becriticized by two corn-fed menials. I'm glad I'm not rich; it's grandall right, but it isn't comfortable.

  The next day--Saturday--it rained and I sat round in the hall and myroom where I could hear the 'phone and keep an eye on Miss Maitland. Allshe did was to go for a walk, and in the afternoon stay in her study. Wesaw each other at meals, our conversation specially edited for Dixon andIsaac.

  Sunday was fine weather again and Ferguson came round at twelve. MissMaitland had gone for another walk and he and I had the hall toourselves. He'd been in town the day before, seen George Whitney andtold him what he thought. When I asked how Mr. George took it, he gave asarcastic smile and said, "He listened very politely but didn't seemmuch impressed." He also told me they'd hoped to find the child Fridaynight in the room at 76 Gayle Street and had been disappointed.

  "Of course she wasn't there," and he ended with "it was only wastingvaluable time, but there's a proverb about none being so blind as thosewho won't see."

  After that he dropped the subject--I think he wanted to get away fromit--and pow-wowing together we worked around to the robbery, which hadbeen side-tracked by the bigger matter. He said it had been in his mindto tell me a curious circumstance that he'd come on the night the jewelswere taken and that he thought might be helpful to me. It was about acigar band that Miss Maitland had found in the woods that evening whenhe and she had walked home together. Before he was half through I waslistening attentive as a cat at a mouse hole, for it was a queer storyand had possibilities. After I put some questions and had it all clear,we mulled it over--the way I love to do.

  "A man dropped it," I said slowly, my thoughts chasing ahead of mywords, "who went through the woods after the storm."

  "Exactly--between eight-thirty and ten-thirty. And do you grasp the factthat those were the hours the house was vacated--the logical time to robit?"

  "Yes, I've thought of that often--wondered why they waited."

  "And do you grasp another fact--that Hannah a little before nine heardthe dogs barking and then quieting down as if they scented some one theyknew?"

  I nodded; that too I'd made a mental note of.


  "It couldn't have been Price for he was on the way to town then."

  "Oh, Price--" he gave an impatient jerk of his head--"of course itwasn't Price, but it _was_ some one the dogs knew. That would have beenjust about the time a man, watching the house and seeing the groundfloor dark, would have come across the lawn to make his entrance."

  I pondered for a spell then said:

  "Did you ever tell this to Mrs. Janney or any of them?"

  "No, I didn't think of it myself until a little while ago--the night Idined here and saw it was one of Mr. Janney's cigars. And then what wasthe use--the light by the safe had fixed the time."

  "Yes--if it wasn't for that light you'd have got a real lead. Too bad,for it's a bully starting point, and it would have let out those othertwo."

  He stiffened up, suddenly haughty looking.

  "There's no necessity of letting out people who never were in. But ifthat light was eliminated you could work on the theory that aprofessional thief--an expert safe opener--had done the business."

  "How would the dogs know _him_?" I asked.

  He leaned toward me, looking with a quiet sort of meaning into my face:

  "Suppose you put that mind of yours, that Wilbur Whitney values sohighly and I'm beginning to see indications of, on that question."

  "What's the sense of wasting it? My mind's my capital and I don't drawon it unless there's a need. You get rid of that light at one-thirty andI'll expend some of it."

  I laughed, but he didn't, looking on the ground frowning and thoughtful.Then a step on the balcony made us both turn. It was Miss Maitland, backfrom her walk, looking much better, a smile at the sight of him, and alittle color in her face. She joined us and, Dixon announcing lunch,Ferguson invited himself to stay. It was the first human meal I'd eatensince the doors of the dining room had opened to me.

  After lunch I left them on the balcony and went upstairs to my room. Itried to read but the air, blowing in warm and sweet and the scent ofthe garden coming up, made the book seem dull, and I went to the windowand leaned out.

  A while passed that way and then I saw Ferguson going home, a longfigure in white flannels striding across the lawn to the wood path. Thenout from the kitchen come the servants, all togged up, six girls andIsaac, and away they go on their bikes to the beach. From what I've seenof the homes of the rich I'd rather be in the kitchen than theparlor--the help have it all over the quality for plain enjoyment. Theywent off bawling gayly, and presently Dixon appears, looking like aparson on his day off, all brisk and cheerful. Last of all comes Hannah,her hair as slick as a seal's, a dinky little hat set on top of it, anda parasol held over it all. She waddled off, large and slow, in anotherdirection, toward the woods--for a cup of tea and a neighborly gossip inFerguson's kitchen, I guess. How I wished I was along with them!

  There I was left, lolling back and forth on the sill, kicking with mytoes on the floor, and wondering what my poor, deserted boy was doing intown. Then sudden, piercing the stillness with a sort of tinglingthrill, comes the ring of the hall telephone.

  I gave a soft jump, snatched up my pad and pencil, and was at the tableand had the receiver off before she'd got to the closet downstairs. Itwas so quiet, not a sound in the house, that I could hear every catch inher breath and every tone in her voice. And what I heard was worthlistening to. A man spoke first:

  "Hello, who's this?"

  "Esther Maitland. Is it--is it?"

  "Yes--C. P. I've waited until now as I knew there wouldn't be anybodyaround. It's all right."

  "Truly. You're not saying it to keep me quiet?"

  "Not a bit. There's no need for any worry. Everything's gone without ahitch."

  "And you think it's safe--to--to--take the next step?"

  "Perfectly. We're going to get her out of town on Tuesday night."

  "Oh!" I could hear the relief in her voice. "You don't know what thismeans to me?"

  He gave a little, dry laugh:

  "Me too--I'll admit it's been something of a strain. That's all I wantedto say. Good-by."

  I scratched it on the pad, and tiptoed back to my room, short of breatha bit myself. What would Ferguson say to this? I stood by the window,thinking how to send it in, and things went right for out she came fromthe balcony and walked across to a place on the lawn where there weresome chairs under a group of maples. She sat down and began to read, andI stole back to the hall and took a call for the Whitney house. BeingSunday they might be out, but that went right too, for I got the Chiefhimself. I told him and asked for instructions and they came straightand quick:

  "Bring her into town to-morrow morning. There's a train at nine-thirtyyou can take. Get a taxi at the depot and come right up to the office.You'll have to tell her in what capacity you're serving the family.That'll be easy--you were engaged for the robbery. Don't let her thinkyou have any interest in the kidnaping, and on no account let her guesswe suspect her. Say you've had a message from me, that some new factshave come in and I want to ask her a few questions--see if theinformation tallies with what she saw. Keep her quiet and calm. Got thatstraight? All right--so long."