CHAPTER IX.
MR. STANLOCK SURPRISED.
Perhaps it were better not to attempt to describe with faithfulness ofdetail the reception given Mr. Stanlock by his wife and family on hisreturn home shortly before 9 o'clock that night. The fear thatsomething of serious nature had intervened to prevent his appearing atthe usual dinner hour had taken firm hold of Mrs. Stanlock, Marion,sister Kathryn, and brother Harold. The fact that the police had beensearching for him for two hours or more and had been unable to makeany hopeful report, had not tended in the least to relieve the tensionof suspense, which became almost unbearable.
Then came the vague announcement from Mr. Stanlock's stenographer atthe latter's home that he had been called away somewhere, but left nodefinite information. He had been called unexpectedly and left in ahurry. That was all the stenographer could say.
This information was communicated to the police, who increased thefamily's alarm by asking a string of questions over the telephoneindicating the most direful suspicions. Had Mr. Stanlock seen or heardanything which caused him to believe that the strikers might do himbodily harm if they had an opportunity? Had he received anythreatening letters? Had he appeared nervous or was there anything inhis manner which indicated that he was apprehensive of trouble notalready well known to the public?
Marion and her mother answered some of these questions over thetelephone and half an hour later a police lieutenant called at thehouse and made further inquiry. There was no longer any possibility ofdodging the most logical suspicions, namely, that Mr. Stanlock was thevictim of a decoy plotted by some criminal element working with orunder the shadow of the coal miners' strike.
And so the relief from this dread suspense was very great when hedrove up to the house and walked in, smiling as if nothing unusual hadhappened. Marion fairly flew into her father's arms as if she had notseen him for sixteen months.
"Papa!" she cried almost hysterically; "where have you been? We'vebeen telephoning all over the city, and the police have been searchingfor you for nearly two hours. Why didn't you call us up and let usknow you were going to be late?"
"I was intending to call you, my dear," replied Mr. Stanlock, as hegreeted her and the other members of the family with a rapidsuccession of hugs and kisses, indicating, in spite of his attempts toappear composed, that he had returned home not under the most ordinarycircumstances.
"Why didn't you?" Marion insisted. "Do you know what a state of mindyou had us in during the last two or three hours?"
"I delayed calling you because I wanted to find out how late I wasgoing to be," Mr. Stanlock explained. "Then something happened, and Iwasn't near a telephone, and something more delayed me, and I decidedto come directly home without stopping on the way to telephone."
"What was it that happened, papa?" Marion demanded. "Was it anythingserious?"
"Pretty serious, girlie," answered her father, pinching her cheek;"but your daddy is an awfully brave man, you know, and he can't tellhis daughter any of his blood-curdling experiences unless she canlisten to the roaring of cannons and the yelling of Indians withoutflinching."
"Now, papa, you're making fun of me," Marion protested. "Didn'tanything really serious happen? The police thought you must have beenwaylaid."
"I see there's no way out of it, and I shall have to tell you girls astory that will make you all scream and dream nightmares filled withrevolvers and skulking figures and masked faces and lonely highways."
All of the thirteen members and the Guardian of Flamingo Camp Fire,Marion's mother, sister, and brother were present at this scene in thebig living room of the Stanlock home. Mr. Stanlock covertly watchedthe faces of his auditors and was pleased to note that his bandyingwords were rapidly bringing the tension back to normal. Young MasterHarold at this point helped his father's purpose along remarkably bypiping forth:
"It's mighty funny if a man can't be out after dark without a lot o'women jumpin' on 'im."
Nobody with a grain of humor in his soul, if that is where the senseof fun is located, could have restrained a laugh at that remark. In amoment it would have been difficult for any one of those present torealize how tragically serious they had all been a few minutes before.
After the chorus of laughter had subsided, Mr. Stanlock sat down in alarge upholstered armchair, and remarked to his unconsciouslybrilliant son:
"You are a great protector of women-oppressed man, aren't you, Harold.Your chief virtue along this line is your ability to get thephilosophical high spots of every-day gossip. But don't stop there, myable young advocate. Do you realize that your father has had no dinnerand that this exacting bevy of girls is going to force me to sufferthe pangs of hunger until I have told my story?"
"I just told Mary (the head maid) to get your dinner ready," Mrs.Stanlock interposed smilingly. "You won't need to go hungry more thanfifteen minutes longer."
"I see that you don't appreciate an eager and attentive audience,"Marion remarked, affecting to be deeply offended in behalf of herguests. "Very well, we'll wait until after you have satisfied a mereman's appetite, and then we'll condescend to listen."
"Oh, I can tell it in fifteen minutes while Mary is warming over themeat and potatoes. Now, get ready, all you young ladies, for the firstshock. I was really and truly held up."
"Held up!" exclaimed several of the girls in chorus.
"Yes, held up, with guns pointed at the chauffeur's head by two maskedmen on a lonely highway."
"You're joking," said Marion, dubiously.
"All right," said the mine owner, settling back comfortably in hischair. "You insisted on my telling my story, and now that I have begunit, you won't believe my first sentence."
"Yes, I do believe it, papa," Marion said repentantly, going close toher father's chair and putting her arm around his neck. "I believe youwere held up by two masked highwaymen with guns in a lonely spot, asyou say. But how did you escape?"
"We were rescued by some boys!"
Although at the end of a sentence, Mr. Stanlock stopped so quicklythat only a dull person could fail to notice it. His sudden stop, ofcourse, was occasioned by the return to his mind of his promise tokeep the secret of the Boy Scouts.
"Boys," said Mrs. Stanlock, wonderingly. "I didn't know that we hadany heroes of that type in Hollyhill."
"They were some young fellows out hunting," explained the narrator."They witnessed the hold-up and leveled their guns at the rascals anddrove them away."
"Who are those boys?" Marion demanded, and one might almost haveimagined from her manner that she had half a kingdom to bestow on therescuers of her father.
"I'm afraid I can't give you their names," Mr. Stanlock repliedslowly.
"You don't mean to say that you let them get away without finding outwho they were, do you?" his daughter inquired with just a shade ofindignation.
"No, not exactly that, for I can easily get all their names any time Iwant them. But I know also that they don't wish to get into thenewspapers in connection with this affair."
"Can't you tell me who some of them are, papa?" Marion pleaded. "Iwant to know who it was that, perhaps, saved the life of my father."
"I can't tell you now, Marion. I have promised faithfully not toreveal their identity at present for very good reasons which they gaveto me."
"Where is Jake, the driver, Henry?" asked Mrs. Stanlock. "I see youdrove home alone."
"Jake proved himself to be a scoundrel and a traitor and when hediscovered that I had found him out he vamoosed. I expect to swearout a warrant for his arrest tomorrow. Shortly before my usual timefor coming home, I received a letter by messenger, supposedly from Mr.Mills, chairman of a special hospital committee that is looking afterthe sick members of striking miners' families. I had been expecting acall of a meeting and this letter stated that it was important that Ibe present. He lives out on the Foothill pike near the quarries. Ithought that I would make a quick run out there and call you up fromhis home and let you know how late I would be. Well, I didn't getthere. It
seems that Jake was one of the conspirators in a plot to getme out there and waylay me. By the way, that makes me think I ought tocall Mills up and find out if he did call a meeting. The notice was onhis stationery and it is just possible that wasn't a fake."
In a few moments Mr. Stanlock was talking with Mills on the phone. Thelatter was astonished, declared that he had no idea of calling ameeting that night.
"Well, it's lucky I kept the notice," the mining president muttered."That'll be something interesting to show to the police tomorrow."
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