CHAPTER X
KATHLEEN'S PROMISE
"Not in, Miss," was the disappointing information Grace received fromthe maid who answered the door at Morton House.
"Did she leave word when she would return?" questioned Grace.
"She did not, Miss. She went out with Miss Denton, and didn't saynothin', Miss," was the discouraging reply. "An' will I tell her you wasaskin' for her, Miss?"
"No; I may come again this evening."
Grace walked slowly down the steps and across the campus. She was not atall sure that she would repeat her call. Dear as was Arline to her, theinevitable reaction had set in. Now Grace's pride whispered to her thatthere was no real reason why she should humble herself to hertoo-easily-offended friend. It was Arline, not she, who was in thewrong, she mused resentfully. She was rather glad, after all, thatArline had not been at home.
Glancing undecidedly toward Wayne Hall, then at her watch, Grace set offin the opposite direction at a rapid walk. It was five o'clock. Shewould have time to do a little shopping in the Overton stores beforethey closed. She hurried toward the nearest dry goods store, so intentupon reaching there that she paid little or no attention to the peopleshe passed in the street.
Shopping at this late hour proved a comparatively easy matter. Here andthere a belated customer might be seen wandering from counter tocounter, but the day's business was practically finished and thesaleswomen were busily counting their sales or conversing with theirnearest neighbors in low tones. It was ten minutes to six when Grace,inwardly congratulating herself on having been able to do so muchshopping in so short a space of time, hurried to the ribbon counter.Blue velvet ribbon was the last item on her list. Then she could go homefeeling that her hour had been well spent.
"We're out of that shade of blue velvet ribbon," said the saleswoman,glancing at the sample Grace held out to her. "Everybody's been buyingit. It's on order. Have it in next week."
Grace left the store almost on the run and hurried into a shop fartherdown the street, only to meet with the same disappointing reply. Threeblocks farther on was the "French Shop." Grace was sure of finding itthere, but was equally sure it would be infinitely more expensive.Still, she only needed a yard and a half. She was about to enter theshop, when the stocky figure of a man just ahead of her sent a suddenthrill of apprehension through her. There was something unpleasantlyfamiliar about the round shoulders and slouching walk. Forgetting hererrand, Grace began following him, keeping not more than twenty feetbehind him. As he neared the first cross street the man glancedfurtively about him, then, turning into the intersecting street, hurriedon, almost at a run. Grace, bent only on seeing the stranger's face,unhesitatingly dogged his footsteps. It was now after six o 'clock andgrowing darker with every moment. Block after block they went, but nowGrace kept a distance of a hundred feet or more between herself and theman she was following. She observed rather anxiously that they werenearing the end of Main Street, where the houses were fewer and fartherapart.
All at once her quarry stopped short and peered sharply about himthrough the gathering twilight. Grace strolled on at a leisurely pace,though her heart beat violently. Suppose instead of going on he were toturn and walk toward her. Grace trembled a little. She was drawingaltogether too near to him to suit her. She was now positive that he was"Larry, the Locksmith." Suddenly the man left the sidewalk and startedacross a field used in the summer by the small boys of Overton as aplayground.
This ended the pursuit as far as Grace was concerned. Stepping behind atree at the edge of the field she strained her eyes to watch the hulkingfigure as it moved swiftly on. Then she gave a little exclamation ofsurprise and triumph. The man was hurrying up the steps of a dingylittle house that stood at the end of a row of similar houses whichbounded the side of the field directly opposite where she stood. Againconsulting her watch, she hesitated. It was almost seven o'clock, andshe was at least a mile from Wayne Hall. Anne would wonder at herabsence, for she had left no word regarding her call upon Arline. Shewould be more than likely to miss her dinner. Mrs. Elwood's dinner hourwas from half-past five until seven o'clock. She rigidly refused toserve meals to those who came later.
Grace Stepped Behind a Tree.]
"I can't possibly make it," mused Grace. "I'll run into Vinton's fordinner. All this comes of playing sleuth." She laughed softly at her ownremark, then her face grew grave. "What shall I do?" she thought. "It ismy duty to tell the authorities, but I promised Father after the classmoney was found that I'd never meddle in any such affair again. Yet hereI am, on the outskirts of Overton, trailing an escaped convict as thoughmy bread and butter depended upon it. If I could only turn over thisaffair to some one else, and let him do the rest, I'd be perfectlysatisfied."
On the way to Vinton's, Grace reluctantly decided to go in person to thepolice station and report her discovery to the Chief of Police. "It isonly right," she argued. "I will simply tell them the facts and ask themto keep my part in the affair a secret. Then I'll write Father and tellhim about it. Perhaps I ought to write him first. But if I wait for hisanswer it may be too late. I'll go and report my news as soon as I havehad my dinner."
Grace did not enjoy her solitary meal. To her, the chief charm of adinner at Vinton's consisted in eating it with her friends. The smartlittle restaurant seemed unusually quiet. There were not more than halfa dozen persons dining there and only two of the half dozen were Overtongirls. It was less than a week until Thanksgiving. It looked as thoughthe girls were practicing economy. This accounted for the slimpatronage. Grace ate her dinner with one eye on the door, vainly hopingfor the entrance of some one she knew. But no one of her friendsappeared, and without waiting for dessert she asked the waitress for hercheck and left the restaurant to go on her disagreeable errand.
It was not a long walk to the police station, and Grace resolved to gothere with all possible speed. She wished to be able to dismiss theaffair from her mind at the earliest moment. She had reached the crossstreet on which the station house was situated and was about to turninto it when she almost collided with a young woman who gave a smotheredexclamation of annoyance and hurried on. As they came together directlyunder the rays of the arc light, they could scarcely help recognizingeach other.
"I beg your pardon," called Grace after the hurrying figure. Then with asudden flash of inspiration she called, "Miss West, please wait aminute."
The figure halted, and in the next second Grace confronted the coldlyinquiring eyes of the newspaper girl.
"Would you like a real news item for your paper?" she asked impulsively.
Kathleen regarded her with an expression of mingled incredulity andcontempt which changed to one of lively displeasure. "Do you believethat I would accept anything from you?" she asked tensely.
"I never thought of that," returned Grace, her color rising. "I wasthinking only of the story. Suppose for once we put aside everythingpersonal. I have something to tell you that cannot fail to be ofinterest to you. Will you forget that I am Grace Harlowe and listen tome?"
Grace's earnestness impressed Kathleen against her will. She hesitatedbriefly, then said in a low voice, "I will listen to you."
Grace began with the story of the bazaar given on the Thanksgivingafternoon and evening of her senior year in high school. She relatedbriefly the theft of the strong box containing the bazaar money, theunsuccessful attempts of the police to apprehend the thief, the findingof the money by her and Eleanor Savelli and the capture of the thief bythe Oakdale police in the haunted house.
Kathleen listened to Grace's rapidly told narrative with growinginterest.
When she came to the trial of the thief and his recognition by theofficers as "Larry, the Locksmith," Kathleen interrupted excitedly:"Why, that's the man who has escaped from prison. The police of all thelarge cities have been ordered to watch for him. He is an exceptionallyclever criminal who has always escaped until that time in Oakdale. Andto think it was you who were responsible for his capture! I remember theaffair. It was my fi
rst year on the paper. One of our reporters was senton to interview this Larry. He laid his capture to the fact of hishaving been foolish enough to waste his time in a small town."
The newspaper girl had now become eager and animated. Her black eyesgleamed with excitement. "Did you know he had escaped?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Grace. "That is the part I am going to tell you. He ishere in Overton. I saw him to-night."
"You saw him?" questioned Kathleen, her eyes wide with astonishment.
Grace nodded. "To-night and one evening last week, too. I wasn't surethen. But to-night I knew him. I followed him to a house on theoutskirts of Overton. Then I came back to notify the police. I was on myway to the station when I met you. Don't you imagine it will make a goodnewspaper story if the police capture him?"
"Great!" exclaimed Kathleen.
"Then come with me to the station house while I make my report. Theofficers will surely visit the house where he is hiding at once. If theydo, you can telegraph your story to-night in time for the first editionin the morning." Grace had started toward the station house while shewas speaking. Kathleen kept close at her side.
"Wait a moment," said Grace, as they ascended the stone steps of thestation house. "I almost forgot to tell you. You may use the Oakdalepart of the story as you heard it at the time it happened, but my namemust not be used in your write-up. I shall, of course, tell the chiefthe whole story in confidence. Nor do I wish my name used in the storyof the man's apprehension, provided he is captured. It ought to make agood story in itself without any reference to me. I wish you to give thechief the first information, then you can truthfully say that you did sowhen you write it."
"But it won't sound half so exciting as it would with you in it,"protested Kathleen. "I need all the data concerning you to make a bigstory of it."
"I am sorry," declared Grace, "but I promised Father never to becomeinvolved in any such affair again. He and Mother would be dreadfullydispleased if my name appeared in the newspapers in connection withanything of that sort."
"But I shall use my name," argued Kathleen. "It will be a great help tome in my profession."
"That is different. If I were interested in newspaper work I shouldn'tcare, either. I must ask you on your honor not to use my name."
"Very well," answered Kathleen slowly, a curious light leaping into hereyes.
"Thank you," replied Grace, with a friendly smile. "Remember, you are tobe the first to tell the news."