CHAPTER XVIII
THE CLUE
Jack Kimball sat in his study, with his hands laced in his thick, darkhair. He was thinking--Jack claimed the happy faculty of being able tothink of one thing at a time, and to do that thoroughly.
Suddenly he jumped up, and, whistling a tune that only a happy youthknows how to originate, he dashed up the polished stairs, three stepsat a time, and finally reached the third floor of his home.
He was met in the hall by a matronly woman with a tray in her hands,and at his approach she stepped back to allow him to enter a room, thedoor of which was swung open.
"Morning, Miss Brown," he said. "How's the baby?"
"Doing splendidly, thank you," replied the woman, "and she is veryanxious to see you. Won't you step in?"
"Sure thing," answered Jack. "That's just what I came up for. I wantto chat with her myself."
He stepped lightly into the apartment. It was plainly furnished, witha keen appreciation of what was needed in a sick room, and what shouldbe left out of it. Jack sank into a steamer chair beside the white bed.
"How are things, Wren?" he asked, stroking the delicate hand that wasput out to greet him. "Are you almost strong enough to--play football?"
The child smiled, and turned her head away. She had never known anyone in all her life like Jack Kimball, so big and strong, and yet sokind. He almost made her feel timid and shy.
"I'm better every minute," she managed to say. "But, of course, Iought to be."
She glanced at her nurse, Miss Brown, who was bringing the morning'sbeef tea.
"She is really doing splendidly," put in the nurse. "But she is amodel patient--never wants what is not good for her."
"Is Clip coming to-day?" asked Wren, hesitating as she said "Clip."
"I hope so," replied Jack, "but you know she is very busy, and may notget here. But if she does not"--noting the child'sdisappointment--"she will surely come to-morrow. She telephoned solast night."
"Did she say anything about the book?" queried the little one.
"That's exactly what I want to talk about," he replied with niceevasion. "I wonder are you well enough to try to remember about thatbook. Where did you last have it?"
"Out in my chair, with mother. I asked a little boy along the road tohand me some flowers, the book slipped back of me, and, as motherwheeled me along, I could feel that it was all right. When we got homeit was gone."
"And you didn't speak with any other persons than this boy?" Jackcontinued.
"Oh, there were a lot of people out to see the firemen's parade, andlots of them spoke to me."
"But did any one walk along with you to talk with you?"
"Yes," she said with hesitation, trying to recall that day's momentoushappenings; "there were two people. They were strangers. I think theyhad been in an automobile, for the girl was dressed like a motor girl,and the young man wore a long duster."
Jack stopped and made a mental note of this remark. He had evidentlyexpected this intelligence.
"What did they look like--I mean personally?"
"The girl had red hair--I particularly noticed that," replied thechild; "but I have no idea what the man looked like, for he walked backof my chair."
"I'm not tiring her, am I, Miss Brown?" asked Jack, turning to thenurse. "I can wait for the other details."
"Go right on," assented the woman, who was dressed in the garb of anurse. "I think the talk will do her good; she has been so anxiousabout it all."
"And these two people talked with you?" pursued Jack.
"Why, yes. The girl sat down on the roadside, and mother stopped mychair. Let me see; I think mother went into the little candy shop andleft them with me. They were very pleasant. I am sure they wouldnever touch my book."
"Did you tell them what it was?"
"I did, of course. I always told everybody what my precious book was.I asked them to sign my promise, and they both did so."
"Oh!" exclaimed Jack, whistling his punctuation. "They did sign, didthey?"
"Why, I thought you knew that," replied Wren. "But I did not see thebook after they signed, so I do not know their names. You see, motherwas in a hurry, and they just gave me the book and--Oh, what could havebecome of my precious book!" she broke off, her voice like a cry fromher very heart.
"Well, now there!" soothed Jack. "I knew I should not have distressedyou about it. But, you see, I had to know, else I could not find it.Now I feel I shall have it back to you in jig time. Brace up, littlegirl"; and he tried to impart both courage and hope by his manner."Don't you know you are sure to get some wonderful blessing for havingto stand this loss? That's Cora's pet theory. She almost drives afellow after trouble declaring he will find joy at his heels."
Wren was sighing. Her book had been to her so much. More, perhaps,than some animal pet is to the average cripple, both companion anddistraction.
Miss Brown brought the bottle of alcohol, and bathed the child'stemples.
"Do you know, Mr. Kimball," she said, "we have a secret for you. Wrenstood up yesterday!"
"Bully for the legs!" cried Jack, with an absolute disregard of the wayhe was expressing his joy. The remark brought the color bark to Wren'scheeks.
"Yes," breathed Wren; "but they--my feet--are awfully full of pins andneedles."
"Save them, save them," went on Jack. "I can never find a pin in thishouse. Cora fainted one day, and the doctor said it was pins. He hadto take out twenty pins to give her back her breath."
"I wish your sister were home," said Wren, looking wistfully out of thelow window beside the bed. "She is so like Clip--and Clip can't behere."
"She'll be home soon, all right," replied Jack, who was now standing atthe door, "and when she does come we will all know it. Cora Kimball isa brass and a lawn mower, rolled into one piece. You should be glad sheis away," he finished, his words actually accusing himself of falsehood.
"Fetch her, and let me see," spoke Wren, trying to appear as cheerfulas she, had been when her visitor entered her room.
"Well, I'll fetch something next time," he replied. "If I can't getCora or Clip I'll get--ice cream."