CHAPTER XXIII--THE FIELD DAY
There was a tall, gaunt, gray man who came to the Widow Boyce's to seeMiss Carrington on certain occasions. He always carried a blue bag,stuffed with papers and books, and it was well known by the neighborsthat he was Miss Carrington's lawyer.
There was nothing suggestive of romance about Aaron MacCullough; butlike all old attorneys he had dabbled in many, many romances. There werea score of old families of Centerport who had entrusted their cupboardsecrets to Mr. MacCullough.
He came in one evening, with his blue bag, and sat down in Gee Gee'ssitting room. The Central High teacher was quite as dry in appearance,and as grim as the lawyer himself. She sat on one side of the table, andhe on the other, and the papers which he first examined and read aloudhe passed to her, and she scrutinized them through her spectacles.
"So," she said, at length, "these correspondents of yours in Buda-Pesthseem to know all about Salgo's affairs, do they?"
"It is notorious, Miss Carrington," said the old man, nodding. "Therecan be no mistake. Belas Salgo was a strange man. All geniuses, perhaps,are strange----"
"He was a wicked foreigner!" declared Miss Carrington, sharply.
"Wicked in your eyes, perhaps. He married and carried away with him yourdearest friend."
"My cousin Anne--yes," said she, slowly. "She had been in my care. Shewas musical. She went mad over the man--and he no better than a Gypsy."
"Gypsy blood he confessed to--yes," said the lawyer, shaking his head."But he could make wonderful music. I remember hearing him once in thisvery town."
"Oh, he charmed everybody--but me," said Miss Carrington, vigorously."And he would have charmed me, perhaps, with his fiddle if Anne had notgone mad over him. I knew how it would be for her--misery and trouble!"
"We do not know that," said the old gentleman, shaking his head. "Herfew years with Belas Salgo were happy enough, by all account."
"But she never wrote to me!" cried the Central High teacher.
"Nor she never wrote to her father's partner, Mr. Chumley. Eben Chumley,by the way, is for denying the identity of this girl, Margit?"
"Well! so was I," admitted Miss Carrington. "Though heaven knows it wasfor another reason! I did not think poor Anne would have had a daughterand never written me a word about it."
"Ahem!" said Mr. MacCullough, clearing his throat significantly, "yourlast word to her, I understand, was a harsh one?"
"Ah! But I never meant it. She must have known I never meant it,"exclaimed Miss Carrington, her voice trembling.
The old lawyer shook his head. "We never do mean the harsh words," hemurmured.
"However," he added, after a moment's silence. "The fact remains thatthis girl, Margit Salgo, is assuredly the daughter of Belas Salgo andAnne Carrington. The money--what there was of it--left in the hands ofEben Chumley by his partner, Anne's father, belongs to the child, andEben must be made to disgorge."
"It will hurt Chumley dreadfully to give up the money," said Gee Gee,quickly. "How much is there?"
"Less than a thousand dollars. You know, Chumley & Carrington were inthe real estate business in only a small way, back in those days. Withinterest, and all, it will be but a modest fortune."
"I suppose those Gypsies thought the child was a great heiress," saidthe teacher.
"That is probable. They undoubtedly think so now. It is my advice thatyou allow me to go to the police and explain the matter fully. Let themgather in this Jim Varey, and the others, and tell them just how littlethe sum is that is coming to Margit Salgo. It is about enough for hereducation--and that's all."
Miss Carrington nodded. "Nevertheless," she said, with finality, "she isCousin Anne's child. I shall make her education and future keeping myaffair. I have not worked, and taught, all these years for nothing, Mr.MacCullough."
"Quite true--quite true," admitted the old man, briskly. "And if youwish to adopt the girl----"
"I intend to do so," announced Gee Gee.
"Then there is nobody to gainsay you, I am certain," declared thelawyer, rising. "I congratulate the child upon falling in with so good aguardian, Miss Carrington. And--perhaps--you are to be congratulated,too," he added to himself as he left her sitting grimly by the table.
For more than Lawyer MacCullough noted the change that was graduallycoming over the martinet teacher of Central High. Whether it was theinfluence of Margit's presence, or not, it was true that Miss Carringtonwas not half so harsh as she used to be.
"Change of heart--she's sure to die, I'm afraid," announced BobbyHargrew, one day, when Gee Gee had failed to seize the opportunity toberate that young lady for a certain fault.
But later, Miss Carrington put herself out to speak to Bobby on thestreet, and upon matters not connected with the school work.
"Clara, I never properly thanked you for taking my ward's part the othermorning when that dreadful man attacked her," said Miss Carrington,quietly. "But I am grateful, nevertheless."
"Your ward!" gasped Bobby, her curiosity and wonder passing all boundsof politeness. "Oh, Miss Carrington! is she really related to you?"
"Margit? Not in the least--at least, no relation that the law wouldallow. For that reason I propose to adopt her. She will be known asMargaret Carrington--and I hope, Miss Clara, that you and the othergirls of Central High will be kind to her."
Bobby smiled. "I think Margit will take care of herself, MissCarrington, if we don't treat her right. But I know all the girls willbe glad to have her join."
"Thank you. She is foreign to your ways, as yet," pursued the teacher, alittle doubtfully. "From what she says, she is much interested in Mrs.Case's classes--in the physical culture classes, and the like. I--Iexpect you will introduce her at the gymnasium, Miss Clara?"
"Of course!" exclaimed Bobby, half stunned. "Why--why Margit's thesurest-footed girl I ever saw. You ought to see her running that dayalong the top of the stone wall!"
"Er--I presume that such unseemly conduct will not be necessary ifMargaret becomes a votary of athletics as taught the young ladies ofCentral High," returned Miss Carringtan, stiffly.
"Just the same," Bobby said, in talking over the matter with Laura andthe rest of the girls, afterwards, "just the same, Margit Salgo will bea splendid addition to our fighting force some day. Why, she's gotbiceps like a boy, and she says she can swim, and skate, and ride. We'regoing to have another A-1 champion for Central High in Margit Salgo someday!"
It must be confessed that, about this time, many of the Central Highgirls gave more thought to athletic matters than they did to theirlessons. Still, the unbending rule that only those who kept up withtheir studies would have a part in the after-hour athletic contests wasa solvent for any serious trouble.
The day of the meet was at hand. The athletic teams of the five highschools--three of Centerport and one each from Lumberport andKeyport--were to meet on the Central High field. There were severalimportant trophies, as well as the usual league pins for the winners,and interest in the field day--not alone among the girls themselves--ranhigh.
Laura Belding and her mates had figured out very carefully just whatevents Central High was sure to win, and how many of the "uncertain"points were needed to clinch the championship.
They felt sure of the hundred-yard dash; as far as they could learn nogirl in any of the five schools had developed the speed of Bobby Hargrewover that short course.
The two hundred and twenty-yard dash and the quarter-mile run weredoubtful, despite Bobby's splendid showing in the latter. The hurdleraces were doubtful, too, as well as the shuttle and potato relays.
In the high and broad jumps, as well as the shot-putting, there wasserious doubt. The best Laura could figure, Central High would go intothe contest needing four points more than they were _sure_ of winning.
Those four points might be supplied by Bobby in the quarter-mile run,one of the chief events of the day, and Eve Sitz in the broad jump andputting the shot.
"You girls have got to do your very best--don't forget
that!" Laura toldthem, as they separated the night before the meet. "Central High justabout leans her whole weight on you."
It was on Friday and the whole school was excused at noon; but thosetaking part in the events of the day were not obliged to report untilone o'clock--and then only to the committee at the gymnasium building.
The crowds from Lumberport and from Keyport came in chartered steamers.They marched into the field just before one o'clock, and the classesfrom the East and West Highs followed them a few minutes later. Thegirls in their light dresses, and with the flags fluttering, were apretty sight.
Of course, the grandstand was rapidly filling with adult spectators, andwith the boys, when the girls of Central High came in. There was somemarching and counter-marching, before all were seated. Already some ofthe girls, in their gymnasium clothes, began to appear on the courts forwarming-up practice.
Suddenly Bobby Hargrew burst into a knot of Central High girls gatheredaround Mrs. Case, on the main floor of the gym. building, and fairlyshouted:
"Where is she?"
"Where's who?" asked Laura, curiously. "Is this one of your jokes? Whoare you looking for?"
"Where's Eve? Who's seen Eve Sitz?" repeated Bobby, anxiously.
"Why, I think you'll find her around somewhere. What's the matter? Gotto see her right this moment, Bobby?"
Bobby's tone of tragic despair stopped the joking at last, however, asshe cried:
"She's not reported. She isn't here. Nobody's seen her. She hasn't comeinto town, as far as I can find out. And certain sure she hasn't comeinto this building--and it's one o'clock now!"
"Why, Clara! what do you mean?" asked the physical instructor of CentralHigh. "It is not possible that Evangeline Sitz would fail to appear atsuch a time as this?"
"And with so much depending on her?" shrieked Jess Morse. "Impossible!"
"Something has happened to her," said Laura, aghast.
"Has nobody seen her?" demanded Mrs. Case.
Nobody had.
"I'll run to father's office and telephone," suggested Nellie Agnew."They have a telephone at the Sitz farm, haven't they?"
"Of course," rejoined Laura. "Do run, Nell!"
The group, mostly made up of juniors, was horror-stricken by the factthat one of the most dependable of the girls was missing. But a seniorwho stood near said, scoffingly:
"Oh, I guess that girl won't be missed. We've got Lou Potter to putright in her place--in both the shot-put and the broad jump. And thechance belonged to Lou, anyway. Now she'll get her rights, perhaps."