CHAPTER XXVI The Challenge
Terry and Sim were in other rooms, so Arden did not see her chums untilafter the last class of the day. Then she met them on the steps ofBordmust, where they usually waited for one another.
If ever Arden astonished Terry and Sim, it was on this occasion, when sherelated her startling adventure with the ram.
"No, never!" gasped Terry in disbelief.
"Yes," asserted Arden.
"Oh, my aunt's cat!" shouted Sim, and then she and Terry went into spasmsof laughter. Though they realized Arden had been in some danger, thefunny side of it was now uppermost in their minds.
"Let's go over to the orchard and look around," suggested Terry as theirmirth subsided.
"There won't be anything to look at, now that Arden is out," said Sim.
"I know," answered Terry, "but I'd like to see what the place looks likenow that the danger is removed and the mystery solved."
"I guess you're one of those persons who go around gathering souvenirsfrom houses where murders have been committed," laughed Arden.
"The sort who sneaks up on the Sphinx and knocks a chip off the nose foran Egyptian tidbit," suggested Sim.
"Come on," urged Terry. "We haven't anything else to do, and we can't goanywhere, as we're still campused, and it's a nice day."
"All right," assented Sim.
The girls were in a jovial mood as they started toward the orchard, whichhad been bereft of some of its peril and mystery by the dean'sannouncement and by Arden's rather perilous adventure.
This was several days after the night of the kitchen raid, the ringing ofthe bell (which was as yet unexplained), and the attack on the agedchaplain by the vicious black ram. During those days the college hadbuzzed with talk and rumor, and among the chums of Arden and her twofriends considerable was known about the midnight taking of the chickens,milk, and pies.
But the bottles had surreptitiously been restored to the kitchen, thebones of the chickens had been successfully disposed of, and there wasnothing left of the pies save a few grease spots on several sweaters.Whether the dean knew about the raid and chose to ignore it or whethershe was still in blissful ignorance, Arden and her friends neither knewnor cared.
"Sometimes I think she knows all about it but doesn't say anythingbecause of what we did for Henny," said Sim.
"Anyhow, she hasn't piled any more punishment on us, so why should wecare?" asked Terry.
"That's right," agreed Arden. "But though that part seems to have blownover, we still haven't found out why Henny was in the orchard atmidnight."
"And we probably won't until you locate that missing Pangborn chap andget the reward so the swimming pool can be repaired," said Sim, a littlesarcastically, it seemed.
"Don't talk about it!" begged Arden. "I guess I'm a failure as adetective. As for the pool, perhaps around Christmas we can prevail onour respective families to chip in and subscribe enough to fix it."
"That's a thought!" exclaimed Sim. "I must remember that!"
What the dean publicly had said about the ram was quite true in thematter of its ugliness, as Arden could testify. A farmer not far from thecollege grounds owned the big black brute, kept for stock exhibitions. Itwas larger than the average ram, with immense horns, curving back over ahard head, and when free would run to attack any persons who crossed itspath. The beast was supposed to be kept secure in a barn or field but hadmanaged to get out more than one night, roaming afar, and was said tohave killed several dogs which had had the temerity to attack it.
"Probably it was attracted to our orchard by the apples," suggested Terryas the three walked along, talking of the brute's acts.
"It must have been attracted to me also," murmured Arden as she recalledthe circumstances of the hazing and how she was knocked down by what shethought was a dark whirlwind.
"Henny couldn't have been in the orchard as a hazing stunt to be attackedby the beast," said Terry thoughtfully. "What was he there for?"
"Perhaps wandering under the midnight stars to think up a theme for asermon," suggested Sim.
"Maybe," said Arden, though her voice had no conviction in it. "Well,here we are," she added as they left the campus lawn and found themselvesunder the first row of trees in the orchard. It was the first time sincethe hazing they had entered it without fear or apprehension. It was verycalm and peaceful this bright morning.
"It was right about here," said Arden, indicating the base of a largetree, "that the ram knocked me down that night, and over there is theshed where I locked myself in," she added, pointing.
"And there is where we found Tom Scott," Terry said, indicating the spot.
"Here, Terry," said Sim, breaking off a twig from one of the old gnarledtrees. "Here's a souvenir for you."
"Thanks, darling," remarked Terry sarcastically. "What kind of apples arethese, anyhow?" She picked up a fairly good windfall and gingerly took asmall bite after shaking off an ant or two.
"I haven't any idea," answered Arden, and then, as she rememberedsomething, she suddenly asked: "Oh, Sim! What about that man you saw inthe orchard with a lantern the night Mr. Newman brought you back from NewYork?"
"Oh, yes!" said Sim. "Why, it must have been someone looking for the ram,who was on the rampage then. How disgustingly simple mysteries alwaysturn out to be!"
"Not so simple," Arden objected. "How about the bell and the missingPangborn chap?"
"Oh--well," Sim temporized. Then, as a distant rustle of footsteps in thedried leaves was heard, she added in a lower voice: "Here comes yourhero!"
Arden glanced toward where Sim indicated. Tom Scott, the good-lookingyoung fellow who was assistant to grim and dour old Anson Yaeger, wasswinging along beneath the trees toward the girls. As he caught sight ofthem he paused, looked behind him as if to see that a way of retreat wasclear, and then, with a shrug of his shoulders as if shaking off aweight, advanced again.
Not only to the eyes of Arden, but to those of her chums, it was evidenta great change had taken place in Tom Scott. For one thing, he no longerwore blue overalls. He was attired in a well-fitting gray business suit.Instead of clumsy boots his feet had on neat ties well polished.
"How nice he looks!" murmured Terry. "Why!" she exclaimed. "He's shavedoff his mustache. I'm sure he had one when I saw him raking up leaves acouple of days ago!"
"Yes, he has," agreed Sim. "But what of it? I think he looks betterwithout it."
"Hush! He'll hear you," warned Arden. She was staring in a strange mannerat the young man.
"He's coming right this way," went on Sim in a low voice. "Can't we dosomething besides standing here and staring at him as though we came herepurposely to see him? Walk, talk--do something!"
"Let's pretend we're after some apples," suggested Terry, stooping downbut gathering only a small nubbin.
Sim followed her example, but Arden appeared to be fascinated by theoncoming Tom Scott. She did not move or speak. She just stared at him ina way that would have drawn rebukes from her chums had they seen herfixed gaze.
Tom Scott came on, grinning cheerfully, as he was close to the girls,disclosing white, perfect teeth.
"Altogether too good-looking for a gardener at a girls' college," Simfound herself reflecting as she looked up.
"We--we thought we'd take a few apples," faltered Terry. "I supposethere--there's no--objection."
By this time she and Sim were aware of Arden's queer actions or, rather,lack of action, for Arden was still motionlessly staring.
"Try one of these," suggested Tom Scott, reaching up and picking off aperfect apple from a branch over his head. "You'll find the flavor rathergood." He handed the apple to Arden.
"Thank you," she said, in a toneless voice. "What kind is it?"
"Spitzenberg. A very choice variety. You'll not find many of them aroundhere. This is the only orchard I know of where they grow."
"How nice--I mean how strange," murmured Arden. She was not looking atthe
apple. She was looking at Tom Scott, and she asked: "Have yourecovered from your--your accident?"
"Oh!" He laughed. "You mean when the black ram butted me? For it was thesable beast that knocked me out. Yes, thank you, I'm all over that. Itwasn't much. Too bad I didn't do for that beast before he had a chance atthe chaplain. He fared worse than I did--the chaplain, I mean."
"Yes, he did," agreed Sim. "But you saved Arden from the same ram."
"It so happened," admitted the good-looking gardener.
"Thank you," said Terry as Tom gave her an apple like the one he hadhanded to Arden and then passed one to Sim.
"Well, I must be going," said Tom Scott. "I have an errand in townand----"
"Just a minute!" cried Arden excitedly. In all this time she had notremoved her gaze from the young man's face, not even to munch her apple,as Terry and Sim were doing with theirs. "Wait, please----!"
The young gardener stood uncertain, his eyes roving from one girl to theother and back to Arden.
"You--you----" faltered Arden. "I know! Yes, I'm certain now! You areHarry Pangborn!"
"Arden!" gasped Sim. "Arden!"
"What are you saying?" exclaimed Terry, dropping her half-eaten apple.
"This is the man we saw in the post office!" went on Arden, her words andbreath coming rapidly. "I mean he's the picture we saw--I mean he is theoriginal of the man wanted in the police poster. You are, aren't you?"she challenged.