“I suppose it’s because the double front gates are always kept locked. A fence surrounds the garden, and vines grow so thick on it you can’t get a glimpse inside. Take my advice, Doris, and don’t go there for a visit. It would give you the creeps!”
What Dave had told her about the old Gates place in Rumson did not discourage Doris. If anything, it made her more eager to spend a few weeks at Locked Gates, for the thought of mystery was indeed very intriguing.
Unfortunately for her plans, she chanced to repeat to her uncle what Dave had said, and that worthy at once began to regard the proposed visit with misgiving.
“I’m not sure I should let you go,” he told her doubtfully. “There’s something funny about this whole affair. Don’t you think you had better give up the trip?”
“Uncle Ward, you said I could go,” Doris moaned. “Don’t change your mind now. There probably isn’t anything mysterious about the place anyway—Dave was just talking.”
“I think I shall do a little investigating of my own,” her uncle returned gravely.
He had already learned through a former business associate that the Misses Gates were well thought of in Rumson, but that of late years they had kept close to their own premises. Recalling that Jake had at one time worked in Rumson, Wardell Force sauntered out into the garden where he was weeding the flowers.
“Well, Jake,” he began, “how are your posies doing?”
The hired man straightened and regarded Mr. Force with a delighted smile.
“First rate, sir,” he answered. “First rate! Miss Doris’s roses goin’ to be in bloom inside of another week.”
Jake’s hobby was gardening, and he was never more satisfied than when at work with the flowers. The sun and wind had tanned his wrinkled face but it had brought a glow of health which had not been there when Wardell Force had first brought him to Chilton. At that time Jake had been broken in body and in spirit, but fresh air, good food and kindness had made a new man of him. His hair, which was streaked with gray, seldom was combed, and his garments usually bore the stamp of his work. He walked with a noticeable stoop.
Jake was a rather silent man and seldom spoke unless addressed. He kept to himself and when not working about the grounds usually stayed alone in his room. Seemingly, he lived only for the present, as he never mentioned the past and took the future for granted. Of his devotion to Wardell Force and Doris, there was not the slightest question.
“Jake, you used to work in Rumson before you came here, didn’t you?” Mr. Force questioned.
“Yes, sir.” Jake avoided the other’s eyes. Any reference to his past usually caused him to withdraw into his shell, but with Wardell Force he was more free.
“Do you remember a Gates house there, Jake?”
“Yes, sir, I remember the place well. A gloomy house it was, sir. Many a night I had to pass it after dark, and it sort of gave me the creeps.”
“I didn’t think anything could give you the creeps,” Mr. Force said with an understanding smile.
“Neither did I, sir, but that house—you never saw a soul enter or leave. Folks said the gates had rusted shut. But why are you askin’, Mr. Force?”
“Doris was thinking of going there for a short visit.”
Jake shook his head as he picked up the rake.
“I’m not aimin’ to advise you, sir, but if ’twere me, I’d not let her go there alone.”
“I think perhaps you are right, Jake,” Wardell Force returned thoughtfully as he turned away. “I’ll have another talk with Doris and see if I can’t get her out of the notion of going.”
Returning to the house, he found his niece in the den studying German. She put aside her book at once as he came over to her, but her face clouded at mention of the visit.
“I’ll give it up if you’re so worried, but I don’t see any reason for not going. The Misses Gates are probably just two dear old ladies who like privacy, and the neighbors are inclined to gossip.”
“I see you have set your heart upon going,” Mr. Force sighed.
“Then you will let me go?”
“Upon one condition.”
“And what is that?”
“That you get some one to go with you.”
“I know just the person, Uncle Ward. Kitty Norris will be crazy to go!”
“You’re both crazy to go,” Mr. Force returned with a different inflection.
Doris, highly pleased at her latest idea, sprang up and rushed to the desk. It took her only a few minutes to compose a letter to her chum, and having finished it, she rushed off to the corner mail box, fearful lest her uncle change his mind again.
The next three days she waited in a tremor of excitement for a response. On the fourth day the postman brought the letter from Kitty. It was brief but very much to the point.
“Dear Dory:” it read. “Will I come? I’ll jump at the chance! Here’s to a high old time at Locked Gates, and may we discover when they were locked and why! Meet me Wednesday on the 4:40 train. Yours, Kitty.”
It was already Monday and that left only two days before Kitty’s arrival. Doris flew about putting the suite in order and spent a great deal of time getting her clothes ready to pack. The problem was made somewhat difficult due to the fact that she did not know what sort of reception awaited her.
“I don’t know whether they’ll give any parties or not,” she told herself, “but my guess is they won’t. I’ll take a chance on it and leave my evening gown at home.”
Late Wednesday afternoon, Doris and her uncle drove to the station to meet Kitty. She was nearly the last one off the train and Doris was beginning to think she had not come, when she caught sight of her in the crowd.
The girls exchanged enthusiastic hugs and fell to jabbering as excitedly as two magpies, or at least so it seemed to Uncle Ward, who was quite ignored until Doris recalled that she had failed to introduce him.
“I feel as though I know you already,” he told Kitty with his genial smile. “Doris has talked about you almost continually.”
He placed her suitcase in the back of the coupé, and the girls squeezed in beside him on the front seat. As they drove toward home, Doris told her chum more about Locked Gates and the reason why she had planned the trip.
Though not as pretty as Doris, Kitty had a charming personality and was one of the most popular girls at Barry Manor. She was very talkative and always ready for a good time. If she excelled in basketball and tennis rather than in French and English, it was not because of lack of ability, but rather because she could never find the time to study. At Barry Manor her room had always been the gathering place for friends and the scene of many tea parties.
“I’m so excited about this place we’re going to,” she told Doris. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow, if that isn’t rushing you off too soon. Uncle Ward is going out of town to raise money for some charity—”
“A little hot air for a fresh air fund,” Mr. Force interposed. “A speech at the Rotary Club, one at the church, and one at the Chamber of Commerce. That’s the opening day’s program and it will be about the same for the next month.”
“Unless we leave for Locked Gates tomorrow, we’ll be left here by ourselves,” Doris explained.
“Let’s go, by all means.”
“I thought you would want to start right away. Dave said he would take us down in his roadster.”
“We’ll have a wonderful time, too!” Kitty declared enthusiastically.
Doris nodded in agreement. In spite of what Dave and Jake had said concerning Locked Gates, she little dreamed of the adventure that lay before her.
“I just hope we have a real interesting session at this place,” continued Kitty gleefully, “something to tell the sorority about when we return to school in the fall. Just fancy the crowd gathered around us while we tell in a solemn voice the mysteries of Locked Gates. I really hope something exciting does happen to us, Dory,” she exulted, as the roadster swung around the corner, throwing her little hat a bit more rakishly over one eye. “I’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t.”
“Kitty, you are very brave just at present. Be sure to keep up your present demeanor as we go forth on our big adventure,” admonished Doris Force thoughtfully.
Kitty Norris had always been popular at school, for she had a charming way of fitting into things. Before she had been in Chilton an hour she felt perfectly acquainted with Wardell Force, Mrs. Mallow, Marshmallow and even Jake. Marshmallow in particular took an immediate liking to her and tried to monopolize her time.
“You know,” Kitty admitted that night, after the girls had gone to their room, “I sort of like Marshall. He’s so jolly.”
“I thought you were quite taken by him,” Doris laughed. “It’s plain to see Marshmallow has taken a distinct liking to you.”
“Doris Force!”
“Well, he has. Too bad he’s so fat.”
“He is a little stout,” Kitty admitted.
“Stout!” Doris teased. “How you have fallen!”
“Well, then I guess we’re even,” Kitty retorted. “You and Dave—”
“We’d better be tumbling into bed,” Doris interposed hastily, “or we won’t be rested for our trip tomorrow to Locked Gates.”
Shortly after eleven o’clock the following morning, David Chamberlin called for the girls. Wardell Force had of necessity taken an early train out of the city, so there were only Jake, Marshmallow and his mother to see them off.
“Wish I were going,” the plump youth murmured enviously. “Still, I have a sneaking notion it won’t be as jolly as you think down there at Locked Gates.”
“Then we’ll liven the place up,” Doris declared lightly.
Dave drove rather slowly, for neither he nor the girls were eager to reach Rumson before the middle of the afternoon. Doris and Kitty had gone to great pains to prepare and pack a dainty lunch and the three planned to stop some place along the road for a picnic.
The day was unpleasantly warm and sultry. As they took the main highway leading to Rumson, Doris glanced anxiously at the scattered clouds which were to be seen overhead.
“I hope it doesn’t rain and spoil our picnic,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t think it will,” Dave replied. “The sky is almost clear.”
It was true that the sun was shining brightly, but the sky had a dull appearance which Doris did not like. However, as they motored along enjoying the scenery, she forgot the matter completely.
“I’m beginning to get hungry,” Dave announced as it approached noon. “We may as well begin to look for a good place to stop.”
Presently, Doris caught sight of an attractive grove of trees ahead.
“That’s just the spot!” she declared. “Cool and shady and not too close to the road.”
Dave parked the roadster just off the highway and they took the hamper over to the grove.
“This is a dandy place,” Kitty approved. “I believe there’s a spring back there among the rocks.”
Dave had been gazing thoughtfully toward a sign.
“I’m not sure that we should have stopped here,” he said.
“Why not?” Doris demanded quickly.
“We seem to have camped pretty close to the entrance to the Glenville Roadhouse. However, we’re not on their property.”
“What difference does it make?” Kitty asked innocently.
“Well—” Dave hesitated. “This roadhouse doesn’t have much of a reputation, so I’ve been told.”
“Perhaps we had better leave,” Doris suggested.
“We have everything all spread out,” Kitty complained, “and this is the nicest grove we’ve passed. We’re not even within sight of the roadhouse.”
“I don’t believe it will do any harm to stay here,” Dave agreed. “We’ll soon be on our way again.”
They sat down and began to eat luncheon. There were thin sandwiches, ice-cold lemonade, salad, pickles, and some of Mrs. Mallow’s delicious cookies and cake. Long before they had finished, they realized that their imaginations had been more ambitious than their appetites.
“I can’t eat another thing,” Kitty groaned.
“It’s a shame to let these sandwiches go to waste,” Dave excused himself, selecting one made of chicken.
“Bet you can’t take it all in one bite,” Doris dared him on.
“A little thing like that? Just watch me! Why you’re not looking!”
It was true that Doris was no longer interested. A red roadster had turned into the lane leading to the roadhouse, and she had caught a glimpse of the driver’s face.
“It’s that same man we saw at the aviation meet!” she exclaimed. “Evidently, he intends to have luncheon at the roadhouse.”
“Must not care much for his reputation,” Dave returned.
“You know, I don’t like this place,” Doris said quietly. “Now that we’ve finished eating, let’s be on our way.”
“Right-o!” Dave sprang up and began to pack the dishes into the hamper.
As he placed the basket into the rear of the roadster he surveyed the sky and frowned slightly.
“It’s beginning to look more like rain than it did,” he admitted. “I’m afraid we’d better make full steam ahead or we may get caught in a storm.”
Kitty and Doris did not hear, for their attention had been attracted to a little brown dog which stood in the roadway regarding them with wistful, friendly eyes.
“Oh, isn’t he cute!” Doris exclaimed. “Here, doggie! Come here!”
The little animal first backed timidly away and then, as the girls continued to coax, hesitated, and finally came a few steps toward them, wagging his tail in a friendly way. As Doris stooped to pat him on the head he gave a pleased bark, and raising up on his hind legs, eagerly offered her his right paw.
“He knows tricks,” Doris declared. “Oh, I wonder who owns him?”
“Looks to me like a stray dog,” Dave told her. “He hasn’t any collar or license. The dog catcher will likely get him before long.”
“Not if I can help it!” Doris declared. “If he doesn’t belong to anyone, we can take him with us.”
“What will the Misses Gates say when you come dragging him in?” Dave asked with a smile.
“Oh, they won’t care. He’s such a darling!”
“What shall we name him?” Kitty questioned.
“Let’s call him Wags,” Doris exclaimed impulsively. “The name seems appropriate.”
Wags had no objection to entering the car and snuggled down comfortably between the two girls. With an anxious glance at the sky, Dave started the engine.
“Looks like a big storm is rolling up,” he said.
The girls had been so interested in Wags that they had paid scant attention to the clouds, but now as Doris looked about, she was alarmed. The air was oppressive and not a breath of wind was stirring. Heavy black clouds had loomed up in the west and rapidly were spreading over the entire sky.
“I think I can get you to Locked Gates before it strikes us,” Dave said grimly, as he shifted gears and stepped heavily on the gas pedal. “Hold tight!”
The roadster fairly shot down the road. As the figures crept upwards on the tape of the speedometer, Doris and Kitty clung to each other. Not until the car began to rock and weave on the road, did Dave reduce his speed and then only slightly. However, he held the roadster steady and handled the wheel with such a sure hand, that the girls had confidence in his driving.
It was the appearance of the sky which frightened them. The sun had been entirely blotted from sight, and though it was mid-afternoon, it seemed nearly as dark as night. Dave snapped on the headlights.
“I’ll get you to Locked Gates before the storm breaks,” he announced in relief as they rounded a sharp curve and came within sight of Rumson. “Fortunately, the place is right at the edge of town.”
A few minutes later, he brought the car to a groaning halt in front of the old Gates estate. In the gathering darkness the girls caught but a glimpse of the large, rambling house which was set back some distance from the road, but that was sufficient to assure them that it was gloomy and forbidding.
“Here you are,” Dave said briskly. “Nice place for a murder!”
“Ugh!” Doris murmured. “You make my hair stand on end!”
“I almost wish we hadn’t come,” Kitty said nervously.
“Oh, everything’s all right. I was only joking.” Dave sprang from the car and went over to try the double gates which barred the entrance. “Just as I thought! Locked!”
“Then how are we to get in?” Doris questioned.
“There’s an entrance at the rear. Guess these gates are always kept locked. We’ll try the other gate.”
Driving the roadster down a side street, he found the back entrance and helped the girls to alight. As he picked up their suitcases to take them to the door, Doris glanced again at the storm clouds. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and she knew that unless Dave started back at once, he would be caught in the rain.
“Don’t bother to take us to the door,” she commanded. “Start for Chilton this minute!”
“I don’t like to leave you here until I know everything is O. K.,” he protested.
“It’s only a step to the door, Dave. Be a good boy and don’t wait.”
“Well, since you insist, I will start, because it looks like a storm and the roads may get slippery.”
Hastily the three said goodbye and Dave sprang into the roadster. He slammed the door shut and was gone before the girls had managed to unfasten the gate.
“It does look spooky,” Kitty quavered.
Doris laughed uncertainly. She managed to open the gate and it swung back on creaking hinges. A sudden breath of wind struck her face and went whistling through the trees.
The house, half-hidden by shrubbery, was shrouded in deepest gloom, and no light glimmered from the windows. Doris hesitated as she picked up her suitcase. Kitty held back, and even Wags seemed reluctant to venture down the path.
“Come on, Kitty,” Doris admonished, “Everything is all right.”
As she spoke, a gust of wind whined through the trees, and to the girls it sounded strangely like the wailing of a human being in distress.
“Oh, I don’t like it here,” Kitty murmured timidly. “I’m afraid.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Kit. Just follow me.”
Carrying their heavy suitcases, the girls groped their way down the path. It was so dark now that they could not see where they were going and frequently brushed against shrubbery. Wags had disappeared.
Suddenly, Kitty gave a frightened cry as she stumbled over the root of a tree. Catching Doris’s arm to save herself from a bad fall, she permitted her pocketbook to slip from her hand. It opened as it struck the ground, and the contents spilled in every direction.
“Look what I’ve done now!” Kitty wailed.
Doris set her suitcase down and helped her chum search for the things she had lost. They found a pencil, a compact and a number of bills, when another flash of lightning momentarily illumined the path.
“Never mind the rest,” Kitty said nervously. “I’ve found everything except a quarter, and I’ll look for that tomorrow.”
They continued on up the path and came to the old mansion. The place appeared dark and deserted and Kitty would have retreated, had not Doris gripped her firmly by the arm. Bravely, she lifted the old-fashioned knocker.
Huddled together on the veranda, the girls waited. When no one came to admit them, Doris again knocked. Just as she was beginning to think that it was no use, they heard a heavy step. Then the door opened and a man, bearing an oil light, peered out at them.
Before either Doris or Kitty could explain their mission, there came an unexpected yelp. To their horror, Wags, suddenly appearing from beneath a lilac bush, rushed past them straight at the man in the doorway, striking him with such force that he toppled him over.
A heavy peal of thunder resounded as the man slumped to the floor in a queer sort of kneeling position which, at any other time, would have been provokingly funny to Doris Force and her chum. But this was serious business and such a dilemma!
“Wags!” shouted Doris, “Come here, come here!”
The dog bounded into the kitchen, around a table, sniffed at some cake placed dangerously near the table edge, madly rushed to a basket of potatoes throwing the potatoes in all directions over the smooth floor, and then at the call from Doris headed again towards the doorway with a dish towel playfully dragging between his teeth.
“Here, puppy, here!” commanded Kitty, catching her breath and setting down her suitcase, while Doris tried to catch a corner of the linen as the dog jumped over the bewildered man, pulling the cloth over the man’s head.
“Help, oh, ouch, help!” shouted the man. “Call your mutt off! Help! Let me get up!”
“Wags, doggie, doggie, come here!” pleaded Doris, as she realized the man was now in no mood to be trifled with.
She and Kitty decided that they now must command their new pet’s attention.
Frantically, Doris and Kitty called to Wags and in response to their commands he reluctantly returned to them. The man who had fallen scrambled to his feet, and stood glaring angrily at the girls.
“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” Doris apologized. “Wags isn’t really vicious. He was just playing.”
“Playing!” the man snapped. “You call that playing!” As Wags again came toward him he raised his foot to kick him.
“Don’t!” Doris pleaded. “I tell you it was an accident.”
She caught the dog up in her arms and held him away.
“What do you want here anyway?” the man asked rudely.
The first drops of rain were beginning to fall and as a vivid streak of lightning flashed above the house, the girls cringed.
“Please, may we come in?” Doris begged.
Silently the man held the door open for them but he scowled as they passed through. They entered a large kitchen. Before they had time to take stock of it, a stout, slovenly woman who was mopping the floor, bore wrathfully down upon them.
“You can’t come in here with that dog!” she told them. “Can’t you see I’ve just finished mopping up this big ark of a kitchen?”
Chilled by this reception, the girls hastily backed toward the door.
“What is it you want?” the woman asked, less harshly.
“We came to see the Misses Gates,” Doris explained. “They’re expecting us.”
“Oh!” A peculiar expression flashed over the woman’s face. She was silent for an instant and then she said: “You came to the wrong door. This is our quarter.”
“And you are—”
“Cora Sully. I take care of the house. This is my husband, Henry, and I’ll tell you right now there ain’t a lazier man alive!”
Somewhat embarrassed at such brutal frankness, Doris and Kitty continued to edge toward the door.
“Go around to the side door and I’ll let you in proper, else the old maids’ll be put out.” Then she added more gently: “We’re not much used to company here.”
As the girls were about to close the door behind them, she called shrilly:
“You can’t take the dog in!”
Still carrying their suitcases, and with Wags trotting at their heels, Doris and Kitty made their way toward the side door. It was beginning to rain hard.
“What a horrible woman!” Kitty shuddered. “Now, what can we do with Wags?”
“We can’t let him run wild in the storm, that’s certain. I have an idea!”
They had reached the shelter of the side veranda and Doris set her suitcase down and began to unfasten the strap.
“What are you doing?” Kitty demanded.
“I’m going to tie Wags under the porch. He’ll be out of the rain there.”
“It’s mean of that woman not to let us take him in,” Kitty said.
She helped her chum fix the dog, but they were forced to drag him under the porch by main force, for he was reluctant to leave them. By the time they had fastened him securely in his shelter, they were thoroughly drenched themselves.
“What sights we are!” Doris declared. “I wonder if that woman ever will let us in?”
“Here she comes now,” Kitty said in a low tone.
The door swung open and Cora, wearing a clean white apron which she had donned for the occasion, ushered them into a long hall.
“Right this way,” she directed.
They followed her into a spacious living room, bright and cheerful, but furnished in rather prim and old-fashioned style. A fire was burning in the grate.
“Two young ladies to see you,” Cora announced.
The Misses Gates promptly arose and, putting aside their sewing, eagerly came forward to greet the girls. Cora took their suitcases and wraps and left them.
“I am so glad you came,” one of the ladies said in a soft, sweet voice. “When this storm gathered so quickly, we were afraid you might be caught in it.” She smiled apologetically. “Our home isn’t as modern as it once was, but Azalea and I will try to make you comfortable here.”
As she sank back into the restful depths of a big chair, Doris had an opportunity to study the two sisters.
Iris and Azalea quite obviously were twins, for they looked alike and they dressed identically. Their voices, too, were similar—low, musical and soft. They looked rather frail and delicate, Doris thought, and their faces were finely chiseled like that of a cameo. They wore simple, long, white cotton dresses. Had it not been for their snow white hair, Doris would not have guessed that they had long since left their youth behind.
If the girls had been disappointed at their first reception, they no longer had any doubt of their welcome. Azalea and Iris set them at ease by maintaining a pleasant, light conversation. It was apparent to Doris that they were both well educated, though they seemed to take little interest in modern-day topics.
“I don’t believe they know much about what has been going on in the world for the last ten years,” Doris told herself.
Before fifteen minutes had elapsed, she found herself quite captivated by the two ladies, and Kitty, too, had forgotten her former uneasiness.
As the afternoon advanced, the girls found themselves more and more comfortable, looking forward to a pleasant visit.
“No doubt you wondered why we invited you here,” Iris said after a time, addressing Doris.
“Well, yes, I did,” she admitted.
“It’s a long story. Azalea and I—”
Her voice trailed off as Cora Sully appeared in the doorway.
“Supper is served,” she announced.
Iris arose to lead the way to the dining room.
“The story must wait,” she said with a smile. “I know you girls are far more interested in food just now.”
“I am a bit hungry,” acknowledged Doris with a pleasant smile, as she and Kitty followed the twins into the next room where Cora was putting the finishing touches to the table.
Kitty kept close to her chum. Doris caught her eye. In a whisper she heard Kitty ask her about the dog outside, as she motioned toward the food—Kitty wanted Wags to be remembered.
“Wait!” signalled Doris, as the group took seats about the table.
But would the dog wait?
Supper at the mansion was always a rather stiff and formal affair, but on this evening the tension was somewhat relaxed. The Misses Gates chatted pleasantly with the girls, making them feel entirely at their ease.
The table had been laid with an elaborately embroidered tablecloth, of good quality but slightly yellowed with age. The dishes, the cut glass, and the silver were of the best. Two tall candles in pewter holders lighted the room. Cora Sully, fairly presentable in white cap and apron, brought the food in from the kitchen, but she served it in an indifferent fashion.
“Cora really is an excellent cook,” Iris said half apologetically, when the woman had returned to the kitchen.
“Yes, indeed,” Doris agreed quickly.
She had no fault to find with the supper, for the creamed chicken was delicious, the biscuits light, the salad crisp and fresh. It was only that she had taken a dislike to Cora and wondered why the Misses Gates kept such a slouchy, sullen woman.
“Mrs. Sully has been with us for some time,” Iris continued. “She was the daughter of our former dressmaker, but she married a man that was no good. Undoubtedly he means well but he is shiftless, and finds it hard to obtain work. We took them both in.”
“I see,” Doris murmured.
She scarcely knew what to reply, and Kitty was leaving the burden of the conversation to her.
Mrs. Sully cleared away the dishes and appeared with the dessert, a steaming rich pudding which she placed before Azalea, who served it upon individual plates.
“Iris and I seldom indulge ourselves when we are here alone,” Azalea remarked, “but we remember how young girls like sweets.”
“I’m afraid you have gone to a great deal of trouble on our account,” Doris said.
“Not at all,” Azalea assured her. “It is a pleasure to have you here. We have so few visitors.”
It seemed to Doris, who chanced to be watching Mrs. Sully, that an irritated expression passed over her face.
“Shedoesn’t like it because we are here,” Doris thought. “Probably thinks we’ll make her more work!”
She picked up her dessert spoon, but before she could start eating her pudding, there came an unexpected interruption. A loud barking and growling grated upon the ears of the diners.
Doris and Kitty exchanged guilty glances. It was Wags!
“Gracious!” Iris murmured. “What can be the matter?”
Embarrassed, Kitty looked down at her plate.
“I’m so sorry,” Doris apologized, “but I’m afraid it must be Wags.”
“Wags?” Azalea asked, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
Doris nodded unhappily.
“He’s the cutest little brown dog you ever saw—I know you’ll just love him! Kitty and I picked him up on the road this afternoon and brought him along. We didn’t want to leave him out in the storm, so we tied him up under the porch. I don’t know what set him off like that.”
Before either of the women could reply, Wags again let out a series of savage yelps and Doris heard the sound of a man’s voice. Hastily, she pushed back her chair.
“I’ll see what is the matter,” she said, excusing herself.
Hurrying to the door, she opened it and stared straight into the face of the man who had made such a disturbance at the aviation meet! Wags, still securely tied under the porch, had taken exception to the appearance of the stranger and continued to bark excitedly.
“Be quiet, Wags!” Doris commanded.
“So that’s your mutt, eh?” the stranger asked unpleasantly. “Vicious dogs shouldn’t be at large!”
Doris stifled a sharp retort. Now that she saw the man at close range she was more unfavorably impressed than before. He was dressed in a new suit of loud pattern, and carried a cane. His face was hard and cold and his eyes had an unpleasant way of boring into one.
Before Doris could recover from her surprise, the Misses Gates came rushing into the hall.
“I thought I recognized your voice,” Iris murmured, self-consciously.
“We were wondering if you would come tonight,” Azalea added, a tell-tale blush creeping over her pale cheeks.
The stranger bestowed upon each a smile which to Doris seemed to fairly drip sentiment.
“Did you think I could stay away from two such charming young ladies?” he asked in a strangely softened voice.
Kitty, who had followed the Misses Gates into the hall, looked at her chum in disgust. Azalea and Iris saw nothing amiss. One of them took his hat and stick, the other his dripping coat.
Miss Azalea gazed admiringly at the cane which he bestowed upon her with all the grace of a sleight-of-hand performer.
“How’s that?” he asked in self-satisfied tones as he twirled the stick jauntily before handing it to the enraptured hostess.
“Oh, aren’t you clever, Ronald?”
“Well,” he shrugged his shoulders as if to appear very modest, “they do say I’m a good entertainer.”
Iris shook the raindrops from his topcoat solicitously and hung it up to dry on the antique coat rack in the corner.
“You know, I brought that cane over with me from Monte Carlo. That was my lucky day. My side of the argument was right, as usual, so the cane fell to my lot. I told the chap at the Casino how the play of a friend of mine would come out, and of course it came out as I said it would. You understand, ladies, that it was just a friendly little bet, nothing to disturb one’s conscience,” hoping that these last words of his would vindicate any doubts in their minds as to his moral standing. “A friendly little wager,” he concluded, as with a wave of his hand he dismissed the subject entirely.
For a minute or two they were so excited and flustered that they entirely forgot the presence of the two girls. Recovering herself, Azalea turned to introduce them.
“Doris,” she said, beaming happily, “I am sure this will be a pleasant surprise for you. May I present Ronald Trent, the son of your long-lost uncle?”
“Pleased to meet ’chu,’” the stranger mumbled.
Doris managed a perfunctory reply, but she really was too stunned to consider what she was saying. She could not believe that she had heard correctly, and after Kitty had acknowledged the introduction, she turned to Azalea.
“Did I understand you to say Mr. Trent is a relative of mine?”
“Sure, your cousin,” the man broke in, before Azalea could answer. “Don’t worry, kid. You and me will hit it off together.”
Doris could not trust herself to reply. She glanced toward Kitty and saw the puzzled look in her eyes. What must her chum think!
“That man my cousin!” she thought dismally. “Oh, dear, I wish I hadn’t found it out.”
“Well, we had a heavy shower, girlies,” boomed the new arrival as he adjusted his glaring tie carefully, “but I found a chummy roadhouse with a big welcome during the heaviest thunder. I certainly enjoy good company.” He smacked his lips thoughtfully.
Kitty carefully kept her eyes turned away from her embarrassed chum. This was an unexpected turn to events. She was more surprised and worried at meeting this flashy stranger than she cared to have the group know. Reared in a refined and cultured environment, she feared her family might call her away at once, if they should become aware of the fact that such a man as this one were to spend any time in the company of the girls. She pictured the faculty at Barry Manor as being highly shocked and amazed should anybody tell them that these two pupils were spending their vacation in a place where they were obliged to associate with a person of the type of Ronald Trent. Would she have to desert her friend and leave for home on account of the sudden appearance of this relative of Doris?
Kitty pondered this matter seriously in her mind.
Doris was equally worried in her own way.
The Misses Gates escorted Ronald Trent to the living room, forgetting in their excitement that supper had not been finished. Doris and Kitty were too polite to mention that they had not had their dessert.
“You girlies get prettier every day,” the man gushed, playfully straightening Iris’s lace collar and slyly giving Azalea’s hand a squeeze.
Iris giggled, and her sister cast down her eyes in confusion. Ronald Trent winked at Doris and Kitty as much as to say: “How easy they fall!”
Iris and Azalea, unaware that they were appearing in a slightly ridiculous light, continued to beam and to blush, listening intently to every word Ronald Trent said, and laughing at everything which might be remotely interpreted as a joke. Doris was completely disgusted at the way the man was acting, and when he tried to cajole her into a more friendly attitude, she could not hide her indifference. Azalea and Iris did not notice how quiet she was, but Ronald Trent was aware of her attitude and frowned slightly.
“What’s the matter, girlie?” he teased.
“Nothing,” Doris returned quietly.
She felt that if he continued to plague her she surely would disgrace herself by saying something which would offend the Gates sisters. How could they like such a man? He was cheap and coarse and obviously insincere.
“Poor things,” she told herself. “They haven’t had much attention from men and it flatters them.”
The tension was somewhat relieved when Iris asked Kitty if she could sing or play the piano.
“I’m not in the least musical,” Kitty returned, “but Doris sings beautifully.”
Upon being urged to entertain the group, Doris obediently went to the piano. After looking over the music she selected a familiar piece, struck a few chords, and began to sing. A hush fell over the group, and even Ronald Trent, who was talking to Iris, became quiet.
“Lovely,” Azalea murmured when she had finished. “You have a wonderful voice.”
“Pretty keen,” Ronald Trent agreed, “but can’t you sing something livelier? I don’t like them church hymns.”
“You call those songs church hymns?” Doris asked with an amused smile. “Really, if you want popular music, I can’t oblige you. My teacher permits me to sing only classical.”