CHAPTER X
THE PRISONER OF GEEEN FANCY, AND THE LAMENT OF PETER THE CHAUFFEUR
He envied Mr. Rushcroft. The barn-stormer would have risen to theoccasion without so much as the blinking of an eye. He would have beenable to smile and gesticulate in a manner that would have deceived themost acute observer, while he--ah, he was almost certain to flounderand make a mess of the situation. He did his best, however, and,despite his eagerness, managed to come off fairly well. Any one out ofear-shot would have thought that he was uttering some trifling inanityinstead of these words:
"You may trust me. I have suspected that something was wrong here."
"It is impossible to explain now," she said. "These people are not myfriends. I have no one to turn to in my predicament."
"Yes, you have," he broke in, and laughed rather boisterously for him.He felt that they were being watched in turn by every person in theroom.
"To-night,--not an hour ago,--I began to feel that I could call uponyou for help. I began to relax. Something whispered to me that I was nolonger utterly alone. Oh, you will never know what it is to have yourheart lighten as mine--But I must control myself. We are not to wastewords."
"You have only to command me, Miss Cameron. No more than a dozen wordsare necessary."
"I knew it,--I felt it," she cried eagerly. "Nothing can be doneto-night. The slightest untoward action on your part would send youafter--the other two. There is one man here who, I think, will standbetween me and actual peril. Mr. O'Dowd. He is--"
"He is the liveliest liar I've ever known," broke in Barnes quickly."Don't trust him."
"But he is also an Irishman," she said, as if that fact overcame allother shortcomings. "I like him; he must be an honest man, for he hasalready lied nobly in MY behalf." She smiled as she uttered this quaintanomaly.
"Tell me how I can be of service to you," said he, disposing of O'Dowdwith a shrug.
"I shall try to communicate with you in some way--to-morrow. I beg ofyou, I implore you, do not desert me. If I can only be sure that youwill--"
"You may depend on me, no matter what happens," said he, and, lookinginto her eyes was bound forever.
"I have been thinking," she said. "Yesterday I made the discovery thatI--that I am actually a prisoner here, Mr. Barnes. I--Smile! Saysomething silly!"
Together they laughed over the meaningless remark he made in responseto her command.
"I am constantly watched. If I venture outside the house, I am almostimmediately joined by one of these men. You saw what happenedyesterday. I am distracted. I do not know how to arrange a meeting sothat I may explain my unhappy position to you."
"I will ask the authorities to step in and--"
"No! You are to do nothing of the kind. The authorities would neverfind me if they came here to search." (It was hard for him to smile atthat!) "It must be some other way. If I could steal out of thehouse,--but that is impossible," she broke off with a catch in her voice.
"Suppose that I were to steal INTO the house," he said, a recklesslight in his eyes.
"Oh, you could never succeed!"
"Well, I could try, couldn't I?" There was nothing funny in the remarkbut they both leaned back and laughed heartily. "Leave it to me. I oncegot into and out of a Morrocan harem,--but that story may wait. Tellme, where--"
"The place is guarded day and night. The stealthiest burglar in theworld could not come within a stone's throw of the house."
"By Jove! Those two men night before last were trying to--" He said nomore, but turned his head so that the others could not see the hardlook that settled in his eyes. "If it's as bad as all that, we cannotafford to make any slips. You think you are in no immediate peril?"
"I am in no peril at all unless I bring it upon myself," she said,significantly.
"Then a delay of a day or so will not matter," he said, frowning."Leave it to me. I will find a way."
"Be careful!" De Soto came lounging up behind them. She went onspeaking, changing the subject so abruptly and so adroitly that for amoment Barnes was at a loss. "But if she could obtain all thoseluxuries without using a penny of his money, what right had he toobject? Surely a wife may do as she pleases with her own money."
"He was trying to break her of selfishness," said Barnes, suddenlyinspired. "The difference between men and women in the matter ofluxuries lies in the fact that one is selfish and the other is not. Aman slaves all the year round to provide luxuries for his wife. Thewife comes into a nice little fortune of her own, and what does sheproceed to do with it? Squander it on her husband? Not much! She setsout immediately to prove to the world that he is a miser, a skinflintwho never gave her more than the bare necessities of life. The chap Iwas speaking of--I beg pardon, Mr. De Soto."
"Forgive me for interrupting, but I am under command from royalheadquarters. Peter, the king of chauffeurs, sends in word that the caris in an amiable mood and champing to be off. So seldom is it in agood-humour that he--"
"I'll be off at once," exclaimed Barnes, arising.
"By Jove, it is half-past ten. I had no idea--Good night, Miss Cameron.Sorry my time is up. I am sure I could have made you hate your own sexin another half hour."
She held out her hand. "One of our virtues is that we never pretend tobe in love with our own sex, Mr. Barnes. That, at least, is a luxuryreserved solely for your sex."
He bowed low over her hand. "A necessity, if I may be pardoned forcorrecting you." He pressed her hand re-assuringly and left her.
She had arisen and was standing, straight and slim by the corner of thefireplace, a confident smile on her lips.
"If you are to be long in the neighbourhood, Mr. Barnes," said hishostess, "you must let us have you again."
"My stay is short, I fear. You have only to reveal the faintest signthat I may come, however, and I'll hop into my seven league bootsbefore you can utter Jack Robinson's Christian name. Good night, Mrs.Van Dyke. I have you all to thank for a most delightful evening. May Iexpect to see you down our way, Mr. Van Dyke? We have food for man andbeast at all times and in all forms."
"I've tackled your liquids," said Van Dyke. "You are likely to see me'most any day. I'm always rattling 'round somewhere, don't you know."(He said "rettling," by the way.) The car was waiting at the back ofthe house. O'Dowd walked out with Barnes, their arms linked,--as on aformer occasion, Barnes recalled.
"I'll ride out to the gate with you," said the Irishman. "It's awinding, devious route the road takes through the trees. As the crowflies it's no more than five hundred yards, but this way it can't beless than a mile and a half. Eh, Peter?"
Peter opined that it was at least a mile and a quarter. He was aYankee, as O'Dowd had said, and he was not extravagant in estimates.
The passengers sat in the rear seat. Two small lamps served to lightthe way through the Stygian labyrinth of trees and rocks. O'Dowd had anelectric pocket torch with which to pick his way back to Green Fancy.
"I can't, for the life of me, see why he doesn't put in a drivewaystraight to the road beyond, instead of roaming all over creation as wehave to do," said O'Dowd.
"We foller the bed of the crick that used to run through here 'fore itwas dammed a little ways up to make the ice-pond 'tween here an'Spanish Falls," supplied Peter. "Makes a durned good road, 'cept whenthere's a freshet. It would cost a hull lot o' money to build a road asgood as this-un."
"I was only thinking 'twould save a mile and more," said O'Dowd.
"What's the use o' him savin' a mile, er ten miles, fer that matter,when he never puts foot out'n the house?" said Peter, the logician.
"Well, then," persisted O'Dowd testily, "he ought to consider thesaving in gasolene."
Peter's reply was a grunt.
They came in time, after many "hair-pins" and right angles, to the gateopening upon the highway. Peter got down from the seat to release thepad-locked chain and throw open the gate.
O'Dowd leaned closer to Barnes and lowered his voice.
"See here, Barnes, I'm no fool,
and for that reason I've got senseenough to know that you're not either. I don't know what's in yourmind, nor what you're trying to get into it if it isn't already there.But I'll say this to you, man to man: don't let your imagination getthe better of your common-sense. That's all. Take the tip from me."
"I am not imagining anything, O'Dowd," said Barnes quietly. "What doyou mean?"
"I mean just what I say. I'm giving you the tip for selfish reasons. Ifyou make a bally fool of yourself, I'll have to see you through theworst of it,--and it's a job I don't relish. Ponder that, will ye, onthe way home?"
Barnes did ponder it on the way home. There was but one construction toput upon the remark: it was O'Dowd's way of letting him know that hecould be depended upon for support if the worst came to pass.
His heart warmed to the lively Irishman. He jumped to the conclusionthat O'Dowd, while aligned with the others in the flesh, was not withthem in spirit. His blithe heart was a gallant one as well. The lovelyprisoner at Green Fancy had a chivalrous defender among theconspirators, and that fact, suddenly revealed to the harassed Barnes,sent a thrill of exultation through his veins.
He realised that he could not expect O'Dowd to be of any assistance inpreparing the way for her liberation. Indeed, the Irishman probablywould oppose him out of loyalty to the cause he espoused. His handwould be against him until the end; then it would strike for him andthe girl who was in jeopardy.
O'Dowd evidently had not been deceived by the acting that masked theconversation on the couch. He knew that Miss Cameron had appealed toBarnes, and that the latter had promised to do everything in his powerto help her.
Suspecting that this was the situation, and doubtless sacrificing hisown private interests, he had uttered the vague but timely warning toBarnes. The significance of this warning grew under reflection. Themere fact that he could bring himself to the point of speaking toBarnes as he did, established beyond all question that his position wasnot inimical. He was, to a certain extent, delivering himself into thehands of one who, in his rashness, might not hesitate to cast him tothe lions: the beasts in this instance being his own companions.
Barnes was not slow to appreciate the position in which O'Dowdvoluntarily placed himself. A word or a sign from him would besufficient to bring disaster upon the Irishman who had risked his ownsafety in a few irretrievable words. The more he thought of it, themore fully convinced was he that there was nothing to fear from O'Dowd.The cause for apprehension in that direction was wiped out by a simpleprocess of reasoning: O'Dowd would have delivered his warning elsewhereif he intended evil. While it was impossible to decide how far O'Dowd'sfriendly interest would carry him, Barnes was still content to believethat he would withhold his suspicions, for the present at least, fromthe others at Green Fancy.
He was at a loss to account for his invitation to Green Fancy under thecircumstances. The confident attitude of those responsible for MissCameron's detention evidently was based upon conditions which renderedtheir position tenable. Their disregard for the consequences that mightreasonably be expected to result from this visit was puzzling in theextreme. He could arrive at no other conclusion than that theirhospitality was inspired by a desire to disarm him of suspicion. Anopen welcome to the house, while a bold piece of strategy, was farbetter than an effort to cloak the place in mystery.
As he left the place behind him, he found himself saying that he hadreceived his first and last invitation to visit Green Fancy.
Peter drove slowly, carefully over the road down the mountain, indirect contrast to the heedless rush of the belated "washer."
Responding to a sudden impulse, Barnes lowered one of the side-seats inthe tonneau and moved closer to the driver. By leaning forward he wasin a position to speak through the window at Peter's back.
"Pretty bad going, isn't it?" he ventured.
"Bad enough in the daytime," said Peter, without taking his eyes fromthe road, "but something fierce at night."
"I suppose you've been over it so often, however, that you know everycrook and turn."
"I know 'em well enough not to get gay with 'em," said Peter.
"How long have you been driving for Mr. Curtis?"
"Ever since he come up here, more'n two years ago. I used to drive thestation bus fer the hotel down below Spanish Falls. He stayed therewhile he was buildin'. Guess I'm going to get the G. B. 'fore long,though."
His listener started. "You don't say so! Cutting down expenses?"
"Not so's you could notice it," growled Peter. "Seems that he's gettin'a new car an' wants an expert machinist to take hold of it from thestart. I was good enough to fiddle around with this second-hand pile o'junk an' the Buick he had last year, but I ain't qualified to handlethis here twin-six Packard he's expectin', so he says. I guess they'sbeen some influence used against me, if the truth was known. This newsec'etary he's got cain't stummick me."
"Why don't you see Mr. Curtis and demand--" "SEE him?" snorted Peter."Might as well try to see Napoleon Bonyparte. Didn't you know he was asick man?"
"Certainly. But he isn't so ill that he can't attend to business, ishe?"
"He sure is. Parylised, they say. He's a mighty fine man. It's awful tothink of him bein' so helpless he cain't ever git out'n his cheerag'in. Course, if he was hisself he wouldn't think o' lettin' me out.But bein' sick-like, he jest don't give a durn about anything. Sothat's how this new sec'etary gets in his fine work on me."
"What has Mr. Loeb against you, if I may ask?"
"Well, it's like this. I ain't in the habit o' bein' ordered aroun' asif I was jest nobody at all, so when he starts in to cuss me aboutsomethin' a week or so ago, I ups and tells him I'll smash his head ifhe don't take it back. He takes it back all right, but the first thingI know I get a call-down from Mrs. Collier. She's Mr. Curtis's sister,you know. Course I couldn't tell her what I told the sheeny, seein' asshe's a female, so I took it like a lamb. Then they gits a feller uphere to wash the car. My gosh, mister, the durned ole rattle-trap ain'twuth a bucket o' water all told. You could wash from now till nextChristmas an' she wouldn't look any cleaner'n she does right now. So Isends word in to Mr. Curtis that if she has to be washed, I'll washher. I don't want no dago splashin' water all over the barn floor an'drawin' pay fer doin' it. Then's when I hears about the new car. Mr.Loeb comes out an' asts me if I ever drove a Packard twin-six. I saysno I ain't, an' he says it's too bad. He asts the dago if he's everdrove one and the dago lies like thunder. He says he's handled everykind of a Packard known to science, er somethin' like that. I cain'tunderstand half the durn fool says. Next day Mrs. Collier sends fer mean' I go in. She says she guesses she'll try the new washer on thePackard when it comes, an' if I keer to stay on as washer in his placeshe'll be glad to have me. I says I'd like to have a word with Mr.Curtis, if she don't mind, an' she says Mr. Curtis ain't able to see noone. So I guess I'm goin' to be let out. Not as I keer very much, 'ceptI hate to leave Mr. Curtis in the lurch. He was mighty good to me up tothe time he got bed-ridden."
"I dare say you will have no difficulty in finding another place," saidBarnes, feeling his way.
"'Tain't easy to git a job up here. I guess I'll have to try New Yorker some of the big cities," said Peter, confidently.
An idea was taking root in Barnes's brain, but it was too soon toconsider it fixed.
"You say Mr. Loeb is new at his job?"
"Well, he's new up here. Mr. Curtis was down to New York all lastwinter bein' treated, you see. He didn't come up here till about fiveweeks ago. Loeb was workin' fer him most of the winter, gittin' up abook er somethin', I hear. Mr. Curtis's mind is all right, I guess,even if his body ain't. Always was a great feller fer books an' writin''fore he got so sick."
"I see. Mr. Loeb came up with him from New York."
"Kerect. Him and Mr. O'Dowd and Mr. De Soto brought him up 'bout thelast o' March."
"I understand that they are old friends."
"They was up here visitin' last spring an' the fall before. Mr. Curtisis very fond of both of
'em."
"It seems to me that I have heard that his son married O'Dowd's sister."
"That's right. She's a widder now. Her husband was killed in the warbetween Turkey an' them other countries four er five years ago."
"Really?"
"Yep. Him and Mr. O'Dowd--his own brother-in-law, y' know--was fightin'on the side of the Boolgarians and young Ashley Curtis was killed. Mr.O'Dowd's always fightin' whenever they's a war goin' on anywheres. Icain't understand why he ain't over in Europe now helpin' out one sideor t'other."
"Was this son Mr. Curtis's only child?"
"So fer as I know. He left three little kids. They was all here withtheir mother jest after the house was finished. Finest children Iever--"
"They will probably come into this property when Mr. Curtis dies," saidBarnes, keeping the excitement out of his voice.
"More'n likely."
"Was he very feeble when you saw him last?"
"I ain't seen him in more'n six months. He was failin' then. That's whyhe went to the city."
"Oh, I see. You did not see him when he arrived the last of March?"
"I was visitin' my sister up in Hornville when he come backunexpected-like. This ijiot Loeb says he wrote me to meet 'em atSpanish Falls but I never got the letter. Like as not the durn fool gotthe address wrong. I didn't know Mr. Curtis was home till I come backfrom my sister's three days later. The wust of it was that I had tookenthe automobile with me,--to have a little work done on her, mindye,--an' so they had to hire a Ford to bring him up from the Falls. Iwouldn't 'a' had it happen fer fifty dollars." Peter's tone wasconvincingly doleful.
"And he has been confined to his room ever since? Poor old fellow! It'shard, isn't it?"
"It sure is. Seems like he'll never be able to walk ag'in. I wastalkin' to his nurse only the other day. He says it's a hopeless case."
"Fortunately his sister can be here with him."
"By gosh, she ain't nothin' like him," confided Peter. "She's all fussan' feathers an' he is jest as simple as you er me. Nothin' fluffyabout him, I c'n tell ye. Course, he must 'a' had a screw loosesome'eres when he made sich a botch of that house up there, but it'shis'n an' there ain't no law ag'in a man doin' what he pleases with hisown property." He sighed deeply. "I'm jest as well pleased to go asnot," he went on. "Mrs. Collier's got a lot o' money of her own, an'she's got highfalutin' New York ideas that don't seem to jibe withmine. Used to be a time when everything was nice an' peaceful up here,with Sally Perkins doin' the cookin' and her daughter waitin' table,but 'tain't that way no more. Got to have a man cook an' menwaitresses, an' a butteler. An' it goes ag'in the grain to set down toa meal with them hayseeds from Italy. You never saw sich table manners."
He rambled on for some minutes, expanding under the soulful influenceof his own woes and the pleasure of having a visible auditor instead ofthe make-believe ones he conjured out of the air at times when privacyafforded him the opportunity to lament aloud.
At any other time Barnes would have been bored by such confidences asthese. Now he was eagerly drinking in every word that Peter uttered.His lively brain was putting the whole situation into a nutshell.Assuming that Peter was not the most guileful person on earth, it wasquite obvious that he not only was in ignorance of the true state ofaffairs at Green Fancy but that he was to be banished from the placewhile still in that condition.
Long before they came to the turnpike, Barnes had reduced his hundredand one suppositions to the following concrete conclusion: Green Fancywas no longer in the hands of its original owner for the good andsufficient reason that Mr. Curtis was dead. The real master of thehouse was the man known as Loeb. Through O'Dowd he had leased theproperty from the widowed daughter-in-law, and had established himselfthere, surrounded by trustworthy henchmen, for the purpose of carryingout some dark and sinister project.
Putting two and two together, it was easy to determine how and whenO'Dowd decided to cast his fortunes with those of the leader in thismysterious enterprise. Their intimacy undoubtedly grew out ofassociation at the time of the Balkan Wars. O'Dowd was a soldier offortune. He saw vast opportunities in the scheme proposed by Loeb, andfell in with it, whether through a mistaken idea as to its realcharacter or an active desire to profit nefariously time only wouldtell. Green Fancy afforded an excellent base for operations. O'Dowdinduced his sister to lease the property to Loeb,--or he may even havetaken it himself. He had visited Mr. Curtis on at least two occasions.He knew the place and its advantages. The woman known as Mrs. Collierwas not the sister of Curtis. She--but here Barnes put a check upon hisspeculations. He appealed to Peter once more.
"I suppose Mrs. Collier has spent a great deal of time up here with herbrother."
"First time she was ever here, so far as I know," said Peter, andBarnes promptly took up his weaving once more.
With one exception, he decided, the entire company at Green Fancy wasinvolved in the conspiracy. The exception was Miss Cameron. It wasquite clear to him that she had been misled or betrayed into herpresent position; that a trap had been set for her and she had walkedinto it blindly, trustingly. This would seem to establish, beyondquestion, that her capture and detention was vital to the interests ofthe plotters; otherwise she would not have been lured to Green Fancyunder the impression that she was to find herself among friends andsupporters. Supporters! That word started a new train of thought. Hecould hardly wait for the story that was to fall from her lips.
Peter swerved into the main-road. "Guess I c'n hit her up a littlenow," he said.
"Take it slowly, if you please," said Barnes. "I've had one experiencein this car, going a mile a minute, and I didn't enjoy it."
"You never been in this car before," corrected Peter.
"Is it news to you? Day before yesterday I was picked up at this verycorner and taken to Hart's Tavern in this car. The day Miss Cameronarrived and the car failed to meet her at Spanish Falls."
"You must be dreamin'," said Peter slowly.
"If you should have the opportunity, Peter, just ask Miss Cameron,"said the other. "She will tell you that I'm right."
"Is she the strange young lady that come a day er so ago?"
"The extremely pretty one," explained Barnes.
Peter lapsed into silence. It was evident that he considered itimpossible to continue the discussion without offending his passenger.
"By the way, Peter, it has just occurred to me that I may be able togive you a job in case you are let out by Mr. Curtis. I can't saydefinitely until I have communicated with my sister, who has a summerhome in the Berkshires. Don't mention it to Mr. Curtis. I wouldn't, foranything in the world, have him think that I was trying to take youaway from him. That is regarded as one of the lowest tricks a man canbe guilty of."
"We call it ornery up here," said Peter. "I'll be much obliged, sir.Course I won't say a word. Will I find you at the Tavern if I get mywalkin' papers soon?"
"Yes. Stop in to see me to-morrow if you happen to be passing."
There was additional food for reflection in the fact that Peter wasallowed to conduct him to the Tavern alone. It was evident that notonly was the garrulous native ignorant of the real conditions at GreenFancy, but that the opportunity was deliberately afforded him toproclaim his private grievances to the world. After all, mused Barnes,it wasn't a bad bit of diplomacy at that!
Barnes said good night to the man and entered the Tavern a few minuteslater. Putnam Jones was behind the desk and facing him was the littlebook-agent.
"Hello, stranger," greeted the landlord. "Been sashaying in society,hey? Meet my friend Mr. Sprouse, Mr. Barnes. Sic-em, Sprouse! Give himthe Dickens!" Mr. Jones laughed loudly at his own jest.
Sprouse shook hands with his victim.
"I was just saying to our friend Jones here, Mr. Barnes, that you looklike a more than ordinarily intelligent man and that if I had a chanceto buzz with you for a quarter of an hour I could present aproposition---"
"Sorry, Mr. Sprouse, but it is half-past eleven o'clock, and I amdog-tire
d. You will have to excuse me."
"To-morrow morning will suit me," said Sprouse cheerfully, "if it suitsyou."