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CHAPTER XX A Dire Threat
"If Jessica Darglan tells where she saw us," said Terry, next morning, "we're sunk!"
"She won't. n.o.body could be so mean," remarked Arden as she combed her hair in front of the bureau.
"You never can tell, Arden," supplemented Sim. "Some people take a positive delight in doing things like that."
"There's nothing we can do about it, even if she does. So we won't worry until we get a notice to go see Tiddy," decided Terry.
"I meant to ask you after supper last night," began Arden, "did you two think any more about what Henny was saying to Tom Scott as we came along?"
"I didn't pay much attention," confessed Sim. "I was too busy being demure."
"Well," went on Arden, "he said something about it being dangerous and asked Tom Scott how long he was going to keep it up."
"Sort of funny," admitted Terry. "That's the second time we have heard those two talking together. I wonder what it all means?"
"It doesn't worry me much," declared Sim as she pulled on her stockings.
"Because I think I'll go home the way I planned in a few days. I'll leave before I'm expelled for going out while campused."
"Oh, Sim! Do we have to go over all that again?" pleaded Arden. "Can't you stick it out? If we have to be expelled, let's all go home together."
"Don't go, Sim," begged Terry. "We're just beginning to enjoy it here.
You know, deep down in your heart, that last night in the station was fun, even if it was uncomfortable."
"I'll talk about it later," answered Sim. "I have an early cla.s.s this morning. See you when I get back." She gathered up her books, gave a last look in the gla.s.s, and hurried down to breakfast without waiting for her friends.
Back in 513, Arden and Terry went on with their dressing. If Sim felt like being alone, it was wise to let her go. They would see her at breakfast, anyhow.
But at the table Sim devoted herself to Jane Randall and seemed deliberately to be avoiding her roommates. For, as she finished her meal, Sim linked arms with Jane and started for Bordmust Hall, leaving Terry and Arden by themselves.
"Sim is in one of her moods," remarked Arden as she swung along beside Terry. "But she'll forget all about it by lunch time."
"I think she's awfully disappointed about the pool. And being campused, while it doesn't make a great deal of difference, just rubs Sim the wrong way. She hates to feel that she is being persecuted," observed Terry.
"It doesn't bother me a bit," declared Arden. "I'm keeping occupied by trying to straighten out this mystery and get the reward money."
"You have an even disposition," suggested Terry. "We are not all as lucky as you."
Terry sighed deeply and s.h.i.+fted her books from her right arm to her left.
Arden and she trudged silently along up the hill to Bordmust Hall.
The fog of the night before had blown away, and the distant hills s.h.i.+mmered in a soft blue light. The leaves were beginning to fall, and at the steps of Bordmust the head gardener, Anson Yaeger, was raking the lawn with sullen viciousness.
As the girls reached him he stopped moving the rake and looked at them penetratingly. His little beady eyes narrowed into bright slits. Resting part of his weight on the rake he shook a grimy finger at the freshmen.
"You're two of them girls I seen down in my orchard!" he snarled. "You've no right there! Mark my words, no good will come of it! And don't concern yourselves with what's none of your business. There's things going on around here that n.o.body knows about but me. I wouldn't like to see you hurt, foolish as you are!"
Terry and Arden stood dumbfounded. Completely taken by surprise, they moved on past the surly gardener and involuntarily looked back at him without attempting to answer him.
The heavy, thickset man in tattered overalls and an old-fas.h.i.+oned, gray coat-sweater looked over his shoulder with wild eyes, as though expecting someone to come along and stop his tirade.
"If I was to tell you all I know," he went on, "what with alarm bells ringing and all, you'd pack up and take the next train home. Why, last night----"
Terry nudged Arden, murmuring:
"Don't let's stand here like a couple of ninnies and let him talk to us this way. Come on! I think he's a little crazy!"
Arden pulled away from Terry. "But I want to hear what he's saying."
Anson heard them whispering.
"Heedless young things!" he scolded. "You'll be sorry if you don't do as I say." Turning abruptly, he picked up the rake that had slipped to the ground and shuffled off through the rustling leaves in the direction of the orchard.
"There, you see!" exclaimed Arden. "I told you there was something weird down in that old orchard!"
"I've a good mind to follow him and see where he's going," said Terry.
"What do you say, Arden, to a little more sleuthing?"
"I'm game," Arden answered. But even as she spoke the electric bell in Bordmust Hall announced the beginning of the first cla.s.ses.
"We can't go now," said Terry. "We'll have to let it wait."
"Yes," agreed Arden reluctantly.
The two girls entered the building, having a last glimpse of the mysterious gardener still shuffling his way through the rustling leaves toward the orchard where so many strange things had happened.
CHAPTER XXI A Bold Stroke
With great difficulty Arden concentrated on her French literature.
Daudet's "My Old Mill," seemed very silly and unnecessary. Who cared about a sleepy French town, drowsing under a provincial sun? A real present-day mystery story would have been much more interesting and to the point.
Twice Mademoiselle cautioned Arden to pay more attention and finally called upon her to translate aloud. Arden arose and stumbled through two paragraphs which she had known perfectly the night before.
"That will do, Mees Blake," drawled the gentle Frenchwoman. "Eet is obvious you have not prepared ze a.s.signment. You will please geeve me a written translation, tomorrow morning, of today's work."
"Yes, mademoiselle," gulped Arden and sat down.
The events of the last few days were too much for even the conscientious Arden. She simply could not put her mind on the lesson but sat looking as though all that mattered in her life was the charming essay the girls were studying. In reality, however, Arden's mind was far away from the little mill town.
While her cla.s.smates went on with their somewhat halting translations, Arden decided on a bold stroke. In her free period, directly after mathematics, she would go alone over to town and hurry to the police station. There she would inquire as to the latest developments of the Pangborn case. If there was nothing to be learned no one would be the wiser for her daring escapade. For escapade it was, viewed in the fact that she was campused: forbidden to leave the precincts of Cedar Ridge.