Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School Part 21

"I heard him drop an 'h' once," whispered Grace, in a sleepy voice.

But there was no reply. Anne was already dreaming of her four beautiful new dresses.

It might have been midnight, perhaps a little later when Grace awoke with a start. Not a sound disturbed the peace of the old house except the ticking of the clock on the mantel and the occasional crackling of dying embers in the fireplace. Yes; there was one sound and it aroused her. A loose board creaked in the floor, or was it a door which opened and closed softly? Perhaps it was nothing after all. And she closed her eyes and drew the eiderdown quilt close about her shoulders.

No; there it was again. A distinct footfall. She raised herself on her elbow and peered into the shadows. Far over at the other side of the chamber--it seemed an infinite distance just then--stood a figure. Grace looked at it calmly. She had never been a coward and she was not frightened now, only she wondered who could be invading their room at this hour. Perhaps Mrs. Gray; perhaps one of the servants. No, it was neither; of course it couldn't be because it was the figure of a man.

She saw him now plainly enough hovering over the dressing table.

A small, cold hand slipped into hers. Anne was awake too. She had seen the figure and lay quite still watching it. Grace silently returned the pressure; then the two lay watching the man's stealthy motions for a moment, while Grace's mind was busy devising a plan by which the robber might be caught.

Oakdale was a quiet, prosperous place, and burglars were unusual.

Occasionally the hands in the silk mills made a disturbance, and there had been a few highway robberies, but an actual house-breaker seldom troubled the law-abiding town. The two girls, as they lay watching him from under the covers, guessed that this man was a real burglar. He wore a black soft hat and carried a small electric lantern, while, with a practised hand, he picked the lock of a small drawer in the dressing table where the girls had put their purses. Once he turned the light toward the beds. Instantly the girls' eyelids dropped and they lay as still as mice. Having satisfied himself that all was well, the prowler went on with his work, finally tiptoeing into the front room where Mrs.

Gray was sleeping. Evidently he had made a circuit of the three bedrooms on that side of the house. As he slipped out Grace leaped from the bed.

Now was the time for action. Putting on her dressing gown and slippers she dashed to the door leading into the hall, only to come upon the burglar again who had probably been frightened in his last venture and had retired to the hall for safety.

Fortunately he was standing with his back to her while he closed the door, and feeling that she was safe for the moment, she crouched in the shadow of the doorway. The thief evidently thought he also was safe, for he seized a large, heavy-looking valise from the floor and made straight for the steps without looking to right or left.

Now a door across the hall opened and another figure appeared. Grace trembled for a moment, fearing it might be another thief. She had always heard they traveled in pairs. But it was David, wrapped in a long gray dressing gown, looking for all the world like a monk.

He glanced up and down the hall for a moment, then tapped on the door of the next room and without waiting for an answer walked in. In an instant he was out again and had started swiftly down the stairs, Grace following him. She had intended to speak to him, but it had all taken place so quickly there was no time. David made straight for the dining room, opening the heavy door. The room was brightly lighted. In a flash, Grace saw on the table a pile of the beautiful Gray silver, brought over from England by past generations of Grays. Grace never knew what instinct prompted her to enter the dining room by the butler's pantry at the very end of the long hall. As she pushed the swinging door, she heard David say:

"You low blackguard, what do you mean by stealing your aunt's silver?"

Grace started at the mention of the word "aunt." It was, then, the wretched Tom Gray who was robbing his own relative!

"Get out!" returned the other coldly, "and attend to your own business.

You are only a kid."

"Give up those things you have stolen, or I'll pound you to a jelly!"

cried David, making a rush at the burglar, who dodged nimbly.

Then Grace had an inspiration, which a.s.suredly saved David from very disagreeable consequences. Real burglars, like rattlesnakes, are not likely to be dangerous except when they are disturbed. It is then that they become dangerous characters. Grace slipped back into the pantry, swiftly opened one of the linen drawers and drew forth what turned out later to be a breakfast cloth, which was lucky because it was small and easy to manage.

When, in the next instant, she had pushed the door open, what she saw made her blood run cold. Tom Gray had whipped out a small pistol and pointed it straight at David's head.

"Get out of here, quick!" he said just as Grace opened the table cloth with a jerk and flung it over his head. A pistol shot rang out, but David had dodged in time and the bullet was buried in the mahogany wainscot back of him. The astonished burglar dropped the weapon, and began to struggle violently to release himself.

Instantly David pinioned his arms from the back. But the fellow might even then have struggled free, if Reddy Brooks and Hippy Wingate had not burst into the room, followed by Anne, who had roused them after Grace had gone. The three boys swiftly overpowered Tom Gray and tied him to a chair with cord Grace had found in the pantry.

But now, what was to be done? Undoubtedly the noise would awaken Mrs.

Gray and she would have to be told that her nephew was a burglar about to make off with the family silver.

Perhaps the loss of the silver would hurt less than family disgrace.

In the midst of their council Mrs. Gray herself appeared.

"What in the world is the matter?" she demanded.

No one replied for a moment. It was a very uncomfortable situation for the young guests of the house party. If only the burglar had not been a member of the Gray family!

Then Tom Gray himself spoke.

"I must say this is a nice 'ospitable way to treat a guest and a relation. 'Ere I am taken by a lot of silly children for a burglar. I, your own nephew, awnt, who 'ad come down stairs on the h'innocent h'errand of finding some h'ice water."

Mrs. Gray looked from one to another of the silent group. Her eyes took in the silver piled on the table, the pistol on the floor and the burglar's tools and lantern.

"You are a burglar," she said, "a wretched, common thief. I knew it as soon as you entered my house last night. I could not then explain the feeling of repugnance I had, but I know now what it meant. I shall not offer hospitality to a coward, for all thieves are cowards. Boys, take what he has stolen from his pockets."

Reddy and Hippy searched the bulging pockets of the thief's coat and waistcoat, and brought forth a quant.i.ty of jewelry, watches and purses.

"Now, David," continued Mrs. Gray, firmly, "be kind enough to give me that pistol."

David obeyed her, wondering if she meant to shoot her own nephew.

Mrs. Gray pointed the pistol at the thief with as steady a hand as if she had been shooting at targets all her life.

"Untie the cords," she commanded.

They cut the cords with a carving knife.

"Now, go!" said the old lady, still pointing the pistol at his head.

"Leave my house quickly. I shall not punish you, because a thief is always punished sooner or later."

Tom Gray looked immensely relieved, Grace thought, in spite of his crestfallen, hangdog air. They followed him down the hall, Mrs. Gray in the lead, until he slammed the front door after him and disappeared in the night.

Then, turning with her old, sweet manner, she continued:

"My dear children, I want to thank you for helping me rid my house of this man. I know I can depend on all of you never to mention it to anyone. It would have been a great blow to me if I had not been so angry; but now let us all go to our beds and forget this horrid episode.

To-morrow we shall be as happy as ever. I am determined it shall not interfere with our good time."

CHAPTER XV

TOM GRAY

The company which met around the breakfast table, next morning, was entirely restored to its old gayety. There was not one member of the house party, including Mrs. Gray herself, who did not feel unbounded relief that the place was so well rid of Tom Gray.

David was glad there had been no arrest, and that the mistress of the house had with so much dignity and spirit turned out the culprit. It would have been a bad business, testifying in court against Mrs. Gray's nephew when he had been visiting in her house.

"Mrs. Gray," suggested Grace, "if you haven't made any plans this morning for us, I think we had better spend an hour or so rehearsing our surprise."

"Very well, my dear, you may spend as much time as you like at it; but if I peep over the transom, or listen through a crack in the door, you mustn't scold. I don't know that I can wait much longer to find out what it is."

"No, no! You're not to come near the third story," protested Grace. "We shall nail down the transom and stuff the keyhole with soap if you do."