Mary Louise

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE FOLKS AT BIGBEE'S

  Mr. Conant decided to take the Friday morning train back to Dorfield,saying it would not be possible for him to remain at the Lodge overSunday, because important business might require his presence in town.

  "This demise of Mrs. Burrows," he said confidentially to his wife inthe privacy of their room, "may have far-reaching results and turn thewhole current of Colonel Weatherby's life."

  "I don't see why," said Aunt Hannah.

  "You're not expected to see why," he replied. "As the Colonel is mymost important client, I must be at the office in case of developmentsor a sudden demand for my services. I will tell you one thing, however,and that is that this vacation at Hillcrest Lodge was planned by theColonel while I was in New York, with the idea that he and Mrs. Burrowswould come here secretly and enjoy a nice visit with Mary Louise."

  "You planned all that, Peter!"

  "Yes. That is, Weatherby planned it. He knows Will Morrison well, andWill was only too glad to assist him; so they wired me to come to NewYork, where all was quickly arranged. This place is so retired that weconsidered it quite safe for the fugitives to come here."

  "Why didn't they come, then?"

  "Two reasons prevented them. One was the sudden breaking of Mrs.Burrows' health; the other reason was the Colonel's discovery that insome way our carefully laid plans had become known to the detectiveswho are seeking him."

  "Good gracious! Are you sure of that, Peter!"

  "The Colonel seemed sure. He maintains a detective force on his ownaccount and his spies discovered that Hillcrest is being watched byagents of the Secret Service."

  "Dear me; what a maze of deceit!" wailed the good woman. "I wish youwere well out of the whole affair, Peter; and I wish Mary Louise wasout of it, too."

  "So do I, with all my heart. But it's coming to a focus soon, Hannah.Be patient and it may end better than we now fear."

  So Bub drove Mr. Conant to Millbank and then the boy took the car tothe blacksmith shop to have a small part repaired. The blacksmith madea bungle of it and wasted all the forenoon before he finally took Bub'sadvice about shaping it and the new rod was attached and found to worksuccessfully.

  It was after one o'clock when the boy at last started for home and onthe way was hailed by a stranger--a little man who was trudging alongthe road with both hands thrust in his pockets.

  "Going far?" he asked.

  "Up th' mount'n to Hillcrest," said Bub.

  "Oh. May I have a lift?"

  "How fer?"

  "Well, I can't say how far I'll go. I'm undecided. Just came out herefor a little fresh air, you know, with no definite plans," explainedthe stranger.

  "Hop in," said Bub and for a time they rode together in silence.

  "This 'ere's the Huddle, as we're comin' to," announced the boy. "Ol'Miss' Parsons she sometimes takes boarders."

  "That's kind of her," remarked the stranger. "But the air isn't so goodas further up the hill."

  "Ef ye go up," said Bub with a grin, "guess ye'll hev to camp out an'eat scrub. Nobody don't take boarders, up th' mount'n."

  "I suppose not."

  He made no demand to be let out at the Huddle, so Bub drove on.

  "By the way," said the little man, "isn't there a place calledBigbee's, near here?"

  "Comin' to it pretty soon. They's some gals livin' there now, so yewon't care to stop."

  "What sort of girls are they?"

  "Sort o' queer."

  "Yes?"

  "Ye bet ye. Come from the city a while ago an' livin' by theyselves.Someth'n' wrong 'bout them gals," added Bub reflectively.

  "In what way?" asked the little man in a tone of interest.

  "They ain't here fer nuth'n' special 'cept watchin' the folks atHillcrest. Them's the folks I belongs to. For four bits a week. They'ssometh'n' queer 'bout them, too; but I guess all the folks is queerthet comes here from the city."

  "Quite likely," agreed the little man, nodding. "Let me out atBigbee's, please, and I'll look over those women and form my ownopinion of them. They may perhaps be friends of mine."

  "In thet case," asserted Bub, "I pity ye, stranger. F'r my part, Iain't got no use fer anything thet wears skirts--'cept one er two,mebbe," he added reflectively. "Most men I kin git 'long withfust-rate; but ef a man ever gits in trouble, er begins cussin' an'acts ugly, it's 'cause some gal's rubbed him crossways the grain erstuck a knife in him an' twisted the blade--so's ter speak."

  "You're an observant lad, I see."

  "When I'm awake I kain't help seein' things."

  "And you're a pastoral philosopher."

  Bub scowled and gave him a surly glance.

  "What's the use firin' thet high-brow stuff at me?" he askedindignantly. "I s'pose ye think I'm a kid, jes' 'cause I don't do nofancy talkin'."

  "I suspect you of nothing but generosity in giving me this ride," saidthe stranger pleasantly. "Is that Bigbee's, over yonder?"

  "Yes."

  The little man got out at the point where the Bigbee drive met theroad, and walked up the drive toward the house. Agatha Lord wasstanding at the gateway, as he approached it, and seemed ratherstartled at his appearance. But she quickly controlled her surprise andasked in a calm voice, as she faced him:

  "What's up, O'Gorman?"

  "Hathaway's coming here," he said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "He's in Dorfield to-day, waiting to see Lawyer Conant, who went in onthe morning train. Where's Nan?"

  "Here, my lord!" said Nan Shelley, stepping from behind a tall shrub."How are you, partner? I recognized you as you passed the Huddle withthe boy."

  "Field glasses, eh? There isn't much escapes you, Nan."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Agatha reproachfully.

  "Why don't you make your own discoveries?" retorted her confederate.Then, turning to O'Gorman, she continued: "So Hathaway's coming, is he?At last."

  "A little late, but according to program. How have you been gettingalong?"

  "Bored to death," asserted Nan. "Agatha has played the lady and I'vedone the dirty work. But tell me, why didn't you nab Hathaway atDorfield?"

  O'Gorman smiled a little grimly as he answered:

  "I'm not sure, Nan, that we shall nab Hathaway at all."

  "Isn't he being shadowed?" with some surprise.

  "No. But he'll come here, right enough; and then--"

  "And then," she added, as he paused, "the chase of years will come toan end."

  "Exactly. We may decide to take him to Washington, and we may not."

  She gazed at him inquiringly.

  "There are some new developments, then, O'Gorman?"

  "I'm inclined to suspect there are."

  "Known to the department?"

  "Yes. I'm to investigate and use my judgment."

  "I see. Then Agatha and I are out of it?"

  "Not yet; I'm still depending on your shrewdness to assist me. Theoffice has only had a hint, so far, of the prospective break in thecase, but--"

  "Oh, yes; I remember now," exclaimed Nan.

  "That girl up at Conant's sent a telegram, in a desperate hurry. Isuspected it meant something important. Who is she, O'Gorman, and whydid the Chief cut under us by planting Sarah Judd in the Conants'household?"

  "He didn't. The girl has nothing to do with the Department."

  "Then some of you intercepted the telegram?"

  "We know what it said," he admitted.

  "Come, let's go to the house. I've had no lunch. Can you feed me?"

  "Certainly." They turned and walked slowly up the path. Said Nan,musingly: "That Sarah Judd is rather clever, O'Gorman. Is she inHathaway's pay?"

  "I think not," he replied, with an amused chuckle.

  Nan tossed her head indignantly.

  "Very well; play me for a ninny, if you like," she said resentfully."You'll get a heap more out of me, in that way!"

  "Now, now," said Agatha warningly, "keep your tempers and don'tquarrel. You two
are like cats and dogs when you get together; yetyou're the two cleverest people in the service. According to yourstory, Mr. O'Gorman, there's an important crisis approaching, and we'dall like to be able to render a good account of ourselves."

  Agatha Lord may have lacked something of Nan's experience, but thisspeech proved her a fair diplomat. It dispersed the gathering storm andduring the rest of that afternoon the three counseled together inperfect harmony, O'Gorman confiding to his associates such informationas would enable them to act with him intelligently. Hathaway and PeterConant could not arrive till the next day at noon; they might even comeby the afternoon train. Nan's field glasses would warn them of thearrival and meanwhile there was ample time to consider how they shouldact.