Dig Here!

  XXII

  The Escape

  I HAD looked forward to a swim that afternoon but Hamish's request thatwe keep an eye on the house next door forced us reluctantly to abandonthe plan. Hamish might be a bit theatrical at times but there was nodenying the fact that the Captain had a strange visitor and that, forwhatever reason, he had appeared most unwilling to make us acquaintedwith the gentleman. So there did seem some sense in the idea that wekeep our eyes peeled for what went on in our neighbor's domain.

  But as the long afternoon wore away, it seemed evident that nothing atall was going on. The smoke had long since died away from the chimneyand, though the back door still remained fast closed, there was no signof activity within.

  I had been, I will confess, a little surprised that Eve had givenHamish her promise to say nothing to Aunt Cal about the mysteriousguest next door. For Eve, though she could never be called in the leastgoody goody, has nevertheless rather strict ideas about honor and allthat. She knew that the police were searching for Bangs and yet she waskeeping silent.

  "Eve," I said at last. She had given up the pretense of sewing and waslying in the fragrant shadow of the syringa bush, her eyes on thedrifting foamy clouds. "Eve, why did you agree not to tell Aunt Cal?"

  "Why," she frowned a little, "I only agreed to keep it dark tilltomorrow."

  "But why did you agree at all?" I insisted. "It wasn't because of thatburied treasure stuff--because he might lead us to that?"

  "No, it wasn't that."

  "Then what was it?" I demanded caught by something evasive in her tone."What was the reason?"

  "Oh, well, I suppose I might as well tell you! You heard what Hamishsaid, didn't you, about Bangs--that his real name might be somethingelse?"

  "Of course, but what of it? Suppose his name is Jones or Brown, what'sthat got to do with it?"

  "Hasn't it ever occurred to you, Sandy," she said slowly, "that it'srather strange that this man has the key to Craven House and--well,that he knows his way about inside it so well that he was able to hidefrom the police the night they searched for him? Doesn't that strikeyou as rather peculiar?"

  "Eve, what are you driving at?" I cried.

  "Well, suppose--just suppose--that Bangs, instead of being someone whocould give Aunt Cal news of Carter Craven, suppose he was--was Carterhimself!"

  "Carter Craven! Oh, Eve, it couldn't be! Why, he's supposed to be dead,isn't he? And--oh, besides--why this man is just a little sawed-off,bald headed rascal!"

  "Well, you've got to remember that Carter was nothing more than agood-for-nothing--Aunt Cal practically said so."

  "He might be a good-for-nothing," I retorted, "but that doesn't makehim a common thief. Besides," I added firmly, "I don't believe Aunt Calcould ever have been fond of a man with bowlegs!"

  "What have his legs got to do with it, I'd like to know?"

  "Well you know what I mean--he just isn't the type to be CarterCraven!" And yet as I uttered the words a horrible doubt had begun toassail me. Suppose Eve was right, suppose this skulking vendor of fakehair lotions should turn out to be the long missing son of CravenHouse, well where did that put us? So far as we were concerned, ofcourse, it didn't really matter except that it made everything seemrather sordid. But Aunt Cal, how would she feel to find her own cousinfacing a charge for petty thievery? Was that why Eve had promised tokeep still?

  "You want him to escape then?" I demanded. "On account of Aunt Cal?"

  "Well wouldn't it be the best thing that could happen?" she returned."It isn't of course as if they hadn't recovered the car."

  "But the treasure--that letter--those measurements? If he goes--we'llnever know."

  She shrugged. "What does that matter compared with Aunt Cal's pride? Asthings are she can think of Carter as having died peacefully in someforeign country. Of course there's the little matter of the will--stillnothing ever has been proved. Whereas this crime of stealing--everyonewould know if Carter was charged with that!"

  I sighed. I felt terribly disillusioned. "I don't believe he isCarter!" I repeated stubbornly. "Carter was an adventurer--wild,restless, perhaps--but big in his way like the old Captain, his father."

  "In short a kind of romantic, story book hero!" retorted Eve cruelly,"wavy raven locks and fiery piercing eye and all that!"

  "And straight legs!" I added. "Well, we'll wait and see!"

  After supper Miss Rose Blossom appeared to discuss Civic Bettermentplans with Aunt Cal and the two were closeted in the front parlor forthe rest of the evening. Things could not have turned out better forus. Just as dusk was beginning to fall we heard a low whistle from thebushes by the front fence and going out, found Hamish crouched behindthem. "Where is she?" he whispered.

  "In the parlor with the windows shut so you don't need to whisper," Isaid. "And by the way, if it's not too much to ask, I'd like to knowwhat you expect to do in case this--this creature next door does try toescape?"

  "I'll follow him of course," he said still speaking in a guardedundertone as if he imagined there was some hidden listener behind thenext bush. "If he's who I think he won't be leaving these parts tillhe's got hold of what he's after!"

  "You mean you'd follow him if he went out to Craven House tonight?" Idemanded. "Does Hattie May know?"

  "Never mind Hattie May," he retorted shortly. "I've got to see thisthing through and I'm not going to have any interference from girls,d'you hear?"

  Eve giggled. "Well do try to keep away from wells and things, won'tyou? And I do hope you won't catch your death of cold out here in thedamp yard."

  "I've got my raincoat," he said. "Now all you've got to do is toscram--see--and keep your mouths shut!"

  "Absolutely," Eve said. "Good luck--see you in the morning!"

  It did seem funny going to bed with Hamish hiding out there in thebushes. Would he really stick it out, I wondered? Sometimes thereseemed more to Hamish than appeared on the surface. Eve poked back thecurtains after she had blown out the light. "See anything of him?" Iasked.

  "Not even a shadow! Wonder what Aunt Cal would think if she knew thatthe house was guarded!"

  Darkness and quiet descended then. Soon Eve's even breathing told methat she was asleep. For awhile I lay wondering some more about CaptainTrout's visitor, coming finally to the common-sense view that he wasjust what the Captain himself had stated--a ship's cook, perhapstemporarily out of a job. Having reached this conclusion, I fellcomfortably asleep.

  The next thing I was conscious of was a footstep in the hall outsidethe bedroom door. My first startled thought was of the cook. Then Iheard the steps descending the stairs, soft but firm. Aunt Cal, ofcourse. But the dark square of the window told me that it couldn't bemorning yet--why was she going downstairs in the middle of the night?What prompted her?

  I was wide awake at once. What had happened? Had I missed something? Islipped out of bed and to the open bedroom door. The reflection of alight was on the wall, coming from the hall below. I stole to the topof the stairs. I could hear the key turning in the frontdoor--something very special must be up, I thought. I couldn't juststand there and listen, I'd got to know.

  I flew back to the bedroom, got into my dressing gown and slippers. Evehad not stirred. A minute later I was following Aunt Cal out onto thenarrow front stoop. She had set the lamp down on the little stand inthe hall and the light from it streamed out. She turned and saw me as Istarted down the steps. "What is the matter?" I whispered.

  Instead of the rebuke I had looked for, she said indignantly, "There'sa tramp asleep behind the hedge! I don't know what this town is comingto!"

  "B-but how do you know?" I stammered. "I mean maybe you just imaginedit--the shadows, you know--and--and all----"

  "Sandra, you'd better go back to bed," she returned severely. "I do notrequire any advice or assistance."

  "No, of course not," I returned hastily. "I just meant that things aredeceptive at night. And even if it is a tramp," I went on desperate
ly,"wouldn't it be better to wait till morning? At least it would besafer."

  She was not listening to me. She had now advanced firmly halfway acrossthe little front yard toward the hedge. "Why on earth couldn't Hamishhave stayed out of sight?" I thought, "and what had moved my aunt tolook out of the window in the middle of the night anyway!"

  Aunt Cal reached the hedge and peered over it. "Come out of there," sheordered loudly, "or I shall have you arrested for trespassing."

  There was no answer. She advanced along the hedge, she was approachingthe clump of bushes where we had last seen Hamish. I held my breath. Ifonly I could do something to prevent the revelation that was impending!I wished Eve were there, she might have had an inspiration.

  Aunt Cal had reached the bushes. She had picked up a stick and nowbegan poking at them fiercely. "Come out of there!" she repeated. "Or Ishall call the police!"

  All of a sudden my eyes, which had been vainly trying to pierce theshadows, were attracted upward. In the house beyond the hedge a lighthad winked on. It was in the little upper window facing our way. AuntCal saw it too for she paused momentarily in her poking.

  And while our attention was thus distracted, a figure hurtled frombetween the bushes and the hedge and plunged headlong through thelatter and on across Captain Trout's back yard, a rubber coat flappingabout its ankles as it ran. "There! What'd I tell you!" Aunt Calexclaimed. "The miserable loafer!"

  We watched the figure disappear into the darkness. "Tomorrow," said myaunt, "I shall make a complaint. Come, you must go back to bed at once,you'll catch your death on this wet grass."

  "Yes, Aunt Cal," I said meekly, and followed her back into the house.And without further ado I presently found myself back in my own roomagain with the door, by special admonition of Aunt Cal, locked on theinside.

  But the light in Captain Trout's upstairs window still winked acrossthe grass and now and then, I could see it blink as if a figure steppedbetween it and the window. Perhaps the cook had had another chill, Ithought with an inward chuckle, and had demanded still more blankets!Well anyway Hamish had got safely away. Then, suddenly as it had come,the light winked out.

  "What're you looking at?" Eve stirred sleepily.

  "Nothing," I began and stopped. Someone was coming out of the housenext door--a short figure in white duck trousers, dark coat and visoredcap. The Captain? Where on earth could he be going at this ungodly hour?

  Eve was beside me, I could hear her catch her breath. "It's him!" shesaid.

  "You mean the Captain?" I asked, puzzled at her intensity.

  "Of course not. Can't you see the way he walks and--and his legs!"

  "You mean it's the cook all togged up like that?"

  "Disguised of course. We might have expected something like this. Isuppose Hamish is asleep by now."

  "No," I said, "I don't think so. The last I saw him he was hoofing itacross Captain Trout's back yard in the general direction of the sea."And I told her what had happened.

  "Why on earth didn't you wake me?" she said when I had finished. "Tothink I should have missed it all! Do you think Aunt Cal suspectsanything?"

  "I don't think so. Where d'you suppose he's going, Eve--the cook, Imean?"

  "Back to sea, very likely."

  "Then that'll be the end--of everything. And we'll never know who hewas or what he wanted!"

  Eve yawned. "Well that's apt to be the way things peter out in reallife, you know," she said. "The villains just walk out of the picture."

  "And the noble man hunter takes to his heels!" I sighed.

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