CHAPTER XXIVTHIN ICE
Dorothy spied the Fire Bird just as it turned in at the entrance gate. And she identified the person sitting beside her chum, too. Therefore, she had a few minutes in which to prepare for her meeting with Garry Knapp.
She was on the porch when the car stopped, and her welcome to the young Westerner possessed just the degree of cordiality that it should. Neither by word nor look did she betray the fact that her heart’s action was accelerated, or that she felt a thrill of joy to think that the first of her moves in this intricate game had been successful.
“Of course, it would be Tavia’s good fortune to pick you up at the station,” she said, while Garry held her hand just a moment longer than was really necessary for politeness’ sake. “Had you telegraphed us——”
“I hadn’t a thought that I was going to run up against Miss Travers or you, Miss Dale,” he said.
“Oh, then, this is a business visit?” and she laughed. “Entirely? You only wish to see Major Dale?”
“Well—now—that’s unfair,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But I told Miss Travers she might drive me to the hotel.”
“Oh, this will be your hotel while you remain, of course. Father would not hear of anything else I am sure.”
“I can thank you, then, Miss Dale,” he said quietly and with a sudden serious mien, “for the chance to sell my ranch at a better price than those sharks were ready to give?”
“No. You may thank Major Dale’s bump of acquisitiveness,” she said, laughing at him over her shoulder as she led the way into the house. “Having so much land already out there, like other great property owners, he is always looking for more.”
If Garry Knapp was not assured that she was entirely frank upon this matter, he knew that his welcome was as warm as though he were really an old friend. He met Mrs. White almost at once, and Dorothy was delighted by her marked approval of him.
Garry Knapp got to the major by slow degrees. Tavia marveled as she watched Dorothy Dale’s calm and assured methods. This was the demure, cautious girl whom she had always looked upon as being quite helpless when it came to managing “affairs” with members of the opposite sex. Tavia imagined she was quite able to manage any man—“puthim in his place,” she termed it—much better than Dorothy Dale. But now!
Dorothy quietly sent Joe and Roger out for Mr. Knapp’s bags and told them to take the bags up to an indicated room. She made no fuss about it, but took it for granted that Garry Knapp had come for a visit, not for a call.
The young man from the West had to sit down and talk with Aunt Winnie. That lady proceeded in her good-humored and tactful way to draw him out. Aunt Winnie learned more about Garry Knapp in those few minutes than even Tavia had learned when she took dinner with the young man. And all the time the watchful Dorothy saw Garry Knapp growing in her aunt’s estimation.
Ned came in. He had been fussing and fuming because business had kept him from personally seeing Jennie Hapgood aboard her train. He welcomed this big fellow from the West, perhaps, because he helped take Ned’s mind off his own affairs.
“Come on up and dress for dinner,” Ned suggested, having gained Garry Knapp’s sole attention. “It’s pretty near time for the big eats, and mother is a stickler for the best bib and tucker at the evening meal.”
“Great Scott!” gasped Garry Knapp in a panic. “You don’t mean dinner dress? I haven’t had on a swallowtail since I was in college.”
“Tuxedo will do,” Ned said lightly. “If you didn’t bring ’em I’ll lend you. I’m about as broad as you, my boy.”
Garry Knapp was three or four years older than Ned, and that “my boy” sounded rather funny. However, the Westerner did not smile. He accepted the loan of the dinner coat and the vest without comment, but he looked very serious while he was dressing.
They went down together to meet the girls in the drawing-room. Dorothy Dale and Tavia had dressed especially for the occasion. Tavia flaunted her fine feathers frankly; but demure Dorothy’s eyes shone more gloriously than her frock. Ned said:
“You look scrumptious, Coz. And, of course, Tavia, you are a vision of delight. Where’s Nat?”
“Nat?” questioned Tavia, her countenance falling. “Is—isn’t he upstairs?”
“Why, don’t you know?” Dorothy cried. “He’s gone to Boston. Left just before you came back from the station, Tavia.”
“Well, of all things!” Ned said. “I’d have gone with him if I’d really believed he meant it. Old grouch! He’s been talking of lighting out for a week. But I am glad,” he added cordially, looking at Garry Knapp, “that I did not go. Then I, too, might have missed meeting Mr. Knapp.”
Now, what was it kept Major Dale away from the dinner table that evening? His excuse was that a twinge or two of rheumatism kept him from appearing with the family when dinner was called. And yet Dorothy did not appear worried by her father’s absence as she ordinarily would have been. Tavia was secretly delighted by this added manifestation of Dorothy’s finesse. Garry Knapp could not find any excuse for withdrawing from the house until he had interviewed the major.
As was usual at The Cedars, the evening meal was a lively and enjoyable occasion. Tavia successfully hid her chagrin at Nat’s absence; but Joe and Roger were this evening the life of the company.
“The river’s frozen,” sang Roger, “and we’re going skating on it, Joe and I. Did you ever go skating, Mr. Knapp?” for Roger believed it only common politeness to bring the visitor into the conversation.
“Sure enough,” laughed Garry Knapp. “I used to be some skater, too.”
“You’d better come,” said Roger. “It’s going to be moonlight—Popeye Jordan says so, and he knows, for his father lights the street lamps and this is one of the nights he doesn’t have to work.”
“I hope Popeye hasn’t made a mistake—or Mr. Jordan, either—in reading the almanac,” Dorothy said, when the laugh had subsided.
“You’d better come, too, Dorothy,” said Joe. “The river’s as smooth as glass.”
“Let’s all go,” proposed Tavia, glad to be in anything active that would occupy her mind and perhaps would push out certain unpleasant thoughts that lodged there.
“Mr. Knapp has no skates,” said Dorothy, softly.
“Don’t let that stop you,” the Westerner put in, smiling. “I can go and look on.”
“Oh, I guess we can give you a lookin,” said Ned. “There’s Nat’s skates. I think he didn’t take ’em with him.”
“Will they fit Mr. Knapp?” asked Tavia.
“Dead sure that nobody’s got a bigger foot than old Nat,” said his brother wickedly. “If Mr. Knapp can get into my coat, he’ll find no trouble in getting into Nat’s shoes.”
Ned rather prided himself on his own small and slim foot and often took a fling at the size of his brother’s shoes. But now, Nat not being present, he hoped to “get a rise” out of Tavia. The girl, however, bit her lip and said nothing. She was not even defending Nat these days.
It was concluded that all should go—that is, all the young people then present. Nat and Jennie’s absence made what Ned called “a big hole” in the company.
“You be good to me, Dot,” he said to his cousin,as they waited in the side hall for Tavia to come down. “I’m going to miss Jennie awfully. I want to skate with you and tell you all about it.”
“All about what?” demanded his cousin, laughing.
“Why, all about how we came to—to—to find out we cared for each other,” Ned whispered, blunderingly enough but very earnest. “You know, Dot, it’s just wonderful——”
“You go on, dear,” said Dorothy, poking a gloved forefinger at him. “If you two sillies didn’t know you were in love with each other till you brought home the ring the other night, why everybody else in the neighborhood was aware of the fact æons and æons ago!”
“Huh?” grunted Ned, his eyes blinking in surprise.
“It was the most transparent thing in the world. Everybody around here saw how the wind blew.”
“You don’t mean it!” said the really astonished Ned. “Well! and I didn’t know it myself till I began to think how bad a time I was going to have without Jennie. I wish old Nat would play up to Tavia.”
Dorothy looked at him scornfully. “Well! of all the stupid people who ever lived, most men areit,” she thought. But what she said aloud was:
“I want to skate with Mr. Knapp, Nedward. You know he is our guest. You take Tavia.”
“Pshaw!” muttered her cousin as the girl in question appeared and Garry Knapp and the boys came in from the porch where the Westerner had been trying on Nat’s skating boots. “I can’t talk to the flyaway as I can to you. But I don’t blame you for wanting to skate with Knapp. He seems like a mighty fine fellow.”
Dorothy was getting the family’s opinion, one by one, of the man Tavia wickedly whispered Dorothy had “set her cap” for. The younger boys were plainly delighted with Garry Knapp. When the party got to the river Joe and Roger would scarcely let the guest and Dorothy get away by themselves.
Garry Knapp skated somewhat awkwardly at first, for he had not been on the ice for several years. But he was very sure footed and it was evident utterly unafraid.
He soon “got the hang of it,” as he said, and was then ready to skate away with Dorothy. The Dale boys tried to keep up; but with one of his smiles into the girl’s face, Knapp suddenly all but picked her up and carried her off at a great pace over the shining, black ice.
“Oh! you take my breath!” she cried half aloud, yet clinging with delight to his arm.
“We’ll dodge the little scamps and then get down totalk,” he said. “I want to know all about it.”
“All about what?” she returned, looking at him with shy eyes and a fluttering at her heart that she was glad he could not know about.
“About this game of getting me East again. I can see your fine Italian hand in this, Miss Dale. Does your father really need my land?”
He said it bluntly, and although he smiled, Dorothy realized there was something quite serious behind his questioning.
“Well, you see, after you had left the hotel in New York, Tavia and I overheard those two awful men you agreed to sell to talking about the bargain,” she said rather stumblingly, but with earnestness.
“You did!” he exclaimed. “The sharks!”
“That is exactly what they were. They said after Stiffbold got out West he would try to beat you down in your price, although at the terms agreed upon he knew he was getting a bargain.”
“Oh-ho!” murmured Garry Knapp. “That’s the way of it, eh? They had me scared all right. I gave them an option for thirty days for a hundred dollars and they let the option run out. I was about to accept a lower price when your father’s lawyers came around.”
“You see, Tavia and I were both interested,” Dorothy explained. “And Tavia wrote to a friend of ours, Lance Petterby——”
IT SEEMED TO DOROTHY THAT THEY FAIRLY FLEW OVER THE OPEN WATER.Dorothy Dale’s EngagementPage198
IT SEEMED TO DOROTHY THAT THEY FAIRLY FLEW OVER THE OPEN WATER.Dorothy Dale’s EngagementPage198
IT SEEMED TO DOROTHY THAT THEY FAIRLY FLEW OVER THE OPEN WATER.
Dorothy Dale’s EngagementPage198
Dorothy Dale’s Engagement
Page198
“Ah! that’s why old Lance came riding overto Bob Douglass’ place, was it?” murmured Garry.
“Then,” said Dorothy, bravely, “I mentioned the matter to father, and he is always willing to buy property adjoining the Hardin place. Thinks it is a good investment. He and Aunt Winnie, too, have a high opinion of that section of the country. They believe it isthecoming wheat-growing land of the States.”
Garry’s mind seemed not to be absorbed by this phase of the subject. He said abruptly:
“Your folks are mighty rich, Miss Dale, aren’t they?”
Dorothy started at this blunt and unusual question, but, after a moment’s hesitation, decided to answer as frankly as the question had been put.
“Oh! Aunt Winnie married a wealthy man—yes,” she said. “Professor Winthrop White. But we were very poor, indeed, until a few years ago when a distant relative left the major some property. Then, of course, this Hardin estate is a big thing.”
“Yes,” said Garry, shortly. “And you are going to be wealthy in your own right when you are of age. So your little friend told me.”
“Yes,” sighed Dorothy. “Taviawilltalk. The same relative who left father his first legacy, tied up some thousands for poor little me.”
Immediately Garry Knapp talked of other things. The night was fine and the moon, a silverparing, hung low above the hills. The stars were so bright that they were reflected in the black ice under the skaters’ ringing steel.
Garry and Dorothy had shot away from the others and were now well down the river toward the milldam. So perfectly had the ice frozen that when they turned the blades of the skates left long, soaplike shavings behind them.
With clasped hands, they took the stroke together perfectly. Never had Dorothy skated with a partner that suited her so well. Nor had she ever sped more swiftly over the ice.
Suddenly, she felt Garry’s muscles stiffen and saw his head jerk up as he stared ahead.
“What is it?” she murmured, her own eyes so misty that she could not see clearly. Then in a moment she uttered a frightened “Oh!”
They had crossed the river, and now, on coming back, there unexpectedly appeared a long, open space before them. The water was so still that at a distance the treacherous spot looked just like the surrounding ice.
The discovery was made too late for them to stop. Indeed, Garry Knapp increased his speed, picked her up in his arms and it seemed to Dorothy that they fairly flew over the open water, landing with a resonant ring of steel upon the safe ice beyond.
For the moment that she was held tightly in theyoung man’s arms, she clung to him with something besides fear.
“Oh, Garry!” she gasped when he set her down again.
“Some jump, eh?” returned the young man coolly.
They skated on again without another word.