CHAPTER XV UNDER ARREST
Spring came early that year, and the hills around Granard were a lovelyhaze of pale green. The woods were filled with delicate wild flowers, andstreams which would be mere threads later in the season, now swollen byrapid thaws, were tumbling riotously along their rocky beds. Birds weredarting madly back and forth across the landscape, seeking mates andplaces for cozy nests.
"Pat," suggested Jack, on one of the warm, bright days, "the spring hasgotten into my blood. Let's cut Shakespeare this afternoon, and go for ahike in the woods."
"Jack, you shouldn't tempt me like that!" she cried reprovingly, stoppingbeside the bench where they had had their first talk. "I wonder if he'llsay anything important in class."
The boy laughed at her sudden change of tone and attitude. "I don'tbelieve so. He'll talk on the last act. We know that pretty well, don'twe?" grinning mischievously down into the girl's brown eyes.
"We'll take a chance anyhow! When shall we start?"
"Right now. Shall you be warm enough in that thing?"
"'That thing!' I'd have you know this is a perfectly good leather jacketwhich my father gave me for Christmas."
"My error! It's good looking, anyhow."
"You can't fix it up now."
Laughing and joking, as gay as the spring all around them, they swungbriskly along the state road until they reached Tretton Woods; then theyplunged in among the feathered trees.
"Oh!" cried Patricia. "Arbutus! The darlings!" Sinking down upon a bed oflast year's leaves, she tenderly plucked a couple of sprays. "It alwaysseems a pity to tear up a whole lot of it," she observed, handing onepiece to Jack, and fastening the other in her own buttonhole.
A little deeper in the woods they came upon a merry little stream.
"Look, Pat," exulted Jack, "at that brook. Let's make a dam--"
"And a lake?" concluded Patricia, eagerly.
Like two children they worked happily until a wide pond spread out in afern bordered hollow.
"Isn't that lovely?" rejoiced Patricia, gazing proudly at the result oftheir labor.
"It sure is! Gosh, Pat, look!" holding out his watch.
"Half past five? It _can't_ be. How I wish now I'd brought the car."
"No, you don't, young lady!" contradicted Jack masterfully. "A hike'smade on two feet, not on four wheels."
"We'll be late for dinner--"
"Never mind. I'll take you somewhere to eat."
"Like this?" looking down at her soiled hands and muddy skirt.
"Sure."
On the way out of the woods, Patricia's attention was caught by a clusterof cup-like white flowers. "Aren't those pretty, Jack? Let's take themhome as a souvenir. We've lost our arbutus."
Both stooped to gather a handful as quickly as possible.
"Oh, the nasty things!" cried Patricia. "Their stems are just full of redjuice."
"Looks for all the world like blood," commented the boy, dropping hisflowers into the stream, which quickly whirled them away, and wiping hishands on his handkerchief. Patricia followed his example.
"It's awful stuff to get off," complained Patricia, still rubbing herhands vigorously, as they stepped out upon the state road almost underthe wheels of a motorcycle.
"Good Heavens, girl! Watch your step. That was a narrow shave."
"I'll say it was. Why, it's coming back," added Patricia, as the carwheeled about and approached them again.
"They're troopers," breathed Jack, as the car stopped beside them.
Two young men gazed searchingly at the two disheveled figures beforethem.
"What have you been doing?" demanded the man in the side car.
"Gathering wild flowers in the woods," replied the girl promptly.
"Then where are they?" asked the other trooper, fixing his eyes on thered-stained handkerchiefs.
"Some we lost, and some we threw away," said Jack.
"Give me those handkerchiefs," ordered the red-haired trooper, hoppingnimbly out of the side car.
In speechless astonishment the hikers handed the crumpled rags to theman, who took them to the driver of the motorcycle, and both troopersexamined them carefully.
"Blood, without a doubt," stated the auburn-haired man. "Guess we've madeour catch. They certainly answer to the description of Crack Mayne andhis pal, Angel. You're under arrest," he continued, turning toward thecouple.
"What utter nonsense!" exploded Jack angrily, but Patricia laid her handon his arm.
"We got those stains from flower stems," she stated calmly.
"You'll have to show us."
"We can't, now."
"Why not?"
"Because we picked them all, and when we found that our hands werestained we threw the flowers away."
"Oh, yeah? Where did you throw them?" asked the driver, getting off andstarting towards the woods.
"They've gone down the stream," giggled Patricia, her sense of humorunwisely getting the upper hand.
In later days, when Jack wanted to tease her, he always said thatPatricia's giggle sealed their fate.
"Quite clear they've been up to something," muttered the red-hairedtrooper; "maybe a murder. You take 'em in, and I'll poke about in thereto see what I can find. Send Murphy out for me as soon as you get in."
Patricia and Jack were hustled into the side car, and rushed off towardtown. Soon Jack took from his pocket a pencil and an envelope.
"Better give middle names at the station," he scribbled rather illegibly,due to the motion of the car. "Keep college out of it."
Patricia nodded; then Jack tore the envelope into little pieces, whichthe wind eagerly snatched from his hand and bore away.
At the station, they registered as Peter Dunn and Alice Randall. Thestained handkerchiefs were laid aside for expert examination, and thecharges recorded.
"Now may we go?" asked Jack, with elaborate innocence.
"Why, sure," replied the sergeant sarcastically. "Just walk right out."
"Hullo, Mac," drawled an exceedingly tall, solemn-looking youth, lettingthe street door close with a bang. "What have you for me tonight?"
"Only a couple of--" he began.
The newcomer took one look at the pair; then announced without a trace ofsurprise: "You're Jack Dunn, the football player."
"Twin cousin," corrected Jack gravely.
"Oh, yeah!"
"Haven't you ever seen cousins who looked just alike?" inquired Jack,raising his eyebrows in astonishment. "I have."
"That may be, but I didn't see you on the field and off of it last fallfor nothing. What's the racket?"
Before Jack could reply, the sergeant irritably gave the desiredinformation, the last of which was drowned by a bark of laughter from thehuman bean pole.
"This is rich! This is just too rich!" he chortled. "Brave troopersarrest couple of college students for gathering bloodroot. Oh! Oh!"
"So that's what it was!" exclaimed Patricia. "I should have known."
"You're a reporter," said Jack accusingly. "For the love of Pete don'tput us in the paper. We--"
"Now listen, Bozo," interrupted Craig Denton, "don't kid yourself thatnobody will know this story unless he reads it in the paper. One of yourown fellows stopped in at the office before I came over here to say thata couple of college students had just been taken into the police station.That's how I happened to breeze in so early, Mac."
"What did he look like?" demanded Jack.
"Big blond; jaw sticks out like this; little bits of eyes."
"Tut!" breathed Patricia.
"How the devil did he get hold of it?" exploded Jack.
"Saw you brought in," replied Craig, as he held the door open for them."I'm taking these birds home, Mac," he called to the sergeant. "So yousee," he continued, as they were out on the street, "you'd better let uspresent the story truthfully. It's the best way."
"Of course," replied Jack, ruefully, "you have us at your mercy."
&nbs
p; "What did the troopers look like?" asked Craig.
"I couldn't describe them," declared Jack emphatically.
"Nor I," agreed Patricia. "We were too much upset to notice details."
"I wonder," mused the newspaper man, glancing from one to the othersuspiciously; but both met his eyes with well simulated innocence.
"We're going somewhere to eat," announced Jack; "better come along."
"Yes, we surely owe you something for your kind rescue," laughedPatricia.
"There's an old saying about two being company," began Craig.
"Nonsense! Come along!" cried Jack, who had taken a liking to the graveyouth with his keen sense of humor. "Where shall we go, Pat?"
"Wherever we won't meet anybody we know. We're both sketches."
"No wonder we were regarded as suspicious characters," agreed Jack."Guess we'd better go downtown. Where's a good place?" turning to thereporter. "We usually eat up on the hill."
"The Exeter, on Field Street, is good. Got stalls; you wouldn't beconspicuous."
"Exeter for us," decided Patricia; "and let's hurry. I'm starved."
After a good dinner, accompanied by much joking and laughter, Jackescorted Patricia up toward College Hill, while Craig hurried back to theoffice of the _Granard Herald_, after promising to spare the principalsas much as possible in his story.
"Little did we think this noon what we were in for," said Jack, as he wasabout to leave Patricia at the entrance of Arnold Hall. "I'm sorry tohave gotten you into such a jam."
"You!" protested the girl. "Why, it was all my fault. If I hadn't pickedthose flowers--bloodroot's certainly the right name for them."
"But if I hadn't urged you to cut--"
"Oh, Jack, we had a good time; and, as for the unpleasant part, well, itdidn't last long. And it was an unusual experience."
"But it's not over yet; all the publicity, and talk. Of course, I couldstand it; but--"
"You think I couldn't!" finished Patricia with a flash of anger in eyesand voice. "I always try to be a good sport."
"You are; and I didn't mean--" faltered Jack, distressed.
"Listen!" said Patricia, her anger gone in a minute as she saw that hewas really disturbed. "Everybody will laugh and joke about it for awhile, and then--pouf! It's all out, just like a candle. Nothing lastsvery long."
"What about our benefactors' opinion of the affair?"
"Under the circumstances, he or she ought to take a sane view of thematter. We have done nothing of which we should be ashamed. Don't worryabout it."
With these words Patricia ran up the steps, and Jack strolled to the FratHouse thinking what a sensible girl Patricia was, and what a good pal.
A most amusing account of their escapade came out in the morning's paper,and the college world rocked with merriment. Patricia and Jack werebombarded with jokes, questions, congratulations, and cartoons.
The next day Jack and Patricia met on the stairs leading to theirShakespeare classroom.
"I got a queer note," began Patricia.
"So did I."
"What did yours say?" asked Patricia eagerly.
"'Keep out of police stations in the future.'"
"So did mine; but, some way, it didn't seem cross."
"How could you tell that?"
"I don't know; but I just felt that whoever sent the note was smiling ashe wrote it."
"You have a wonderful imagination, Pat," said Jack, grinning down at her."I only hope it's a reliable one."