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dining-room and told him I would talk to him here."
"What does he call himself?" Deering asked.
"Torrence is the name the Drakes gave him," she answered with faint irony. "He's a ranchman in Wyoming and was in Bob Drake's cla.s.s in college."
He knew perfectly well that the Drakes were not people likely to countenance an impostor. His first instinct had been to protect his sister from an unknown scamp, and he was sorry that he had spoken to her so roughly. Her distress and anxiety were apparent, and he was filled with pity for her. Since childhood they had been the best of pals, and if she loved a man who was worthy of her he would aid the affair in every way possible. He was surprised by the abruptness with which she stepped close to him and laid her hand on his arm.
"Billy, who _is_ Hood?" she whispered.
"I don't know!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and then as she eyed him curiously he explained hurriedly: "I was in an awful mess when he turned up, Connie.
I'd gone into a copper deal with Ned Rans...o...b..and needed more money to help him through with it. I put in all I had and touched one of father's boxes at the bank for some more and lost it, or didn't lose it; G.o.d knows what did become of it! It would take a week to tell you the whole story.
Rans...o...b..disappeared, absolutely, and there I was! I should have killed myself if that lunatic Hood hadn't turned up and hypnotized me. But what--what--" (he fairly choked with the question), "in heaven's name are you doing here? Why did you cut out California? I tell you, Connie, if I'm not crazy everybody else is! I nearly fainted when you came into the dining-room."
Constance smiled at his despair, but hurried on with explanations:
"We can't talk here, but I can clear up a few things. Father read that woman's book, and it went to his head. Yes," she added as Deering groaned in his helplessness, "father's acting a good deal like those people in the drawing-room. He's got the May madness, and I'm afraid I've got a touch of it myself! Father started off to have adventures like the people in that book and dragged me along to get my mind off Tommy----"
"Tommy?"
"Mr. Torrence!"
Billy swallowed this with a gulp.
"But, Billy," Constance continued seriously, "there's really something on father's mind; he thinks he's looking for somebody, and I'm not sure whether he is or not. That's how I come to be here. He made me answer an advertis.e.m.e.nt and take this position to spy on these people."
"My G.o.d!" Deering gasped, "gone clean mad, the whole bunch of us. Who the deuce are these lunatics anyhow?"
"I don't know, Billy; honestly I don't! You know nearly as much about them as I do. Their mail goes to a bank in town, and I met my employer at a lawyer's office in Hartford. Father suspects something and made me do it, so I might watch them. The mother and daughter have been abroad a great deal, and just came home a month ago. I never saw this man Hood until to-night. The mother and daughter and the old gentleman call each other by the names you heard at the table, and the books in the library are marked with half a dozen names. Even the silver gives no clew. I've been here a week and only one person has come to the house" (she lowered her voice to a whisper), "and that was Ned Rans...o...b.."
He clutched her hands, and the words he tried to utter became a queer, inarticulate gurgle in his throat.
"Ned came here to see a girl," she went on: "an artist who made the pictures for 'The Madness of May.' He's quite crazy about her. I did get that much out of Pierrette. This artist's a victim of the madness too, and seems to be leading Ned a gay dance!"
"Took my two hundred thousand and got me to steal two more," he groaned, "and then went chasing a girl all over creation! And the fool always bragged that he was immune; that no girl----"
"Another victim of the same disease, that's all," answered Constance with a wry smile.
"Not Ned; not Rans...o...b.. That settles it! We've all gone loony!"
"Well, even so, we mustn't be caught here," said Constance with decision as the music ceased.
"Tell me, quick, where can I find the governor?" Deering demanded.
"If you _must_ know, Billy," she replied, her lips quivering with mirth, "our dear parent is in jail--in _jail_! Tommy collected those glad tidings at the garage."
Having launched this at her astounded brother, she pushed him from her and ran away through the conservatory.
VIII
"Tuck, my boy, you should cultivate the art of music!" cried Hood as Deering reappeared, somewhat pale but resigned to an unknown fate, in the drawing-room. "And now that ten has struck we must be on our way. Madam, will you ring for Ca.s.sowary, the prince of chauffeurs, as we must leave your hospitable home at once?" He began making his adieus with the greatest formality.
"Mr. Tuck," said the mistress of the house as Deering gave her a limp hand, "you have conferred the greatest honor upon us. Please never pa.s.s our door without stopping."
"To-morrow," he said, turning to Pierrette, "I shall find you to-morrow, either here or in the Dipper!"
"Before you see me or the Dipper again, many things may happen!" she laughed.
The trio--the absurd little Pantaloon; Columbine, laughing and gracious to the last, and Pierrette, smiling, charming, adorable--cheerily called good night from the door as Ca.s.sowary sent the car hurrying out of the grounds.
"Well, what do you think of the life of freedom now?" demanded Hood as the car reached the open road. "Begin to have a little faith in me, eh?"
"Well, you seemed to put it over," Deering admitted grudgingly. "But I can't go on this way, Hood; I really can't stand it. I've got to quit right now!"
"My dear boy!" Hood protested.
"I've heard bad news about my father; one of the--er--servants back there told me he was in jail!"
"Stop!" bawled Hood. "This is important if true! Ca.s.sowary, I've told you time and again to bring me any news you pick up in servants' halls. What have you heard about the arrest of a gentleman named Deering?"
"He's been pinched, all right," the chauffeur answered as he stopped the car and turned round. "The constables over at West Dempster are trapping joy-riders, and they nailed Mr. Deering about sundown for speeding. I learned that from the chauffeur at that house where you dined."
Hood slapped his knee and chortled with delight.
"There's work ahead of us! But probably he's bailed himself out by this time."
"Not on your life!" Ca.s.sowary answered, and Deering marked a note of jubilation in his tone, as though the thought of Mr. Deering's incarceration gave him pleasure. "The magistrate's away for the night, and there's n.o.body there to fix bail. It's part of the treatment in these parts to hold speed fiends a night or two."
Again Hood's hand fell upon Deering's knee.
"A situation to delight the G.o.ds!" he cried. "Ca.s.sowary, old man, at the next crossroads turn to the right and run in at the first gate. There's a farmhouse in the midst of an orchard; we'll stop there and change our clothes."
As the car started Deering whirled upon Hood and shook him violently by the collar.
"I'm sick of all this rot! I can't stand any more, I tell you. I'm going to quit right here!"
Hood drew his arm round him affectionately.
"My dear son, have I failed you at any point? Have you ever in your life had any adventures to compare with those you've had with me? Stop whining and trust all to Hood!"
Deering sank back into his corner with a growl of suppressed rage.
When they reached the farmhouse Hood drew out a key and opened the front door with a proprietorial air.
"Whose place is this? I want to know what I'm getting in for," Deering demanded wrathfully.