Part 11 (1/2)

”Who would have guessed a week ago that to-day I would be climbing the broad staircase of a summer hotel carrying a pail of water for a lady fair?”

They paused on the landing.

”There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,” smiled the girl, ”than are dreamed of, even by novelists.” Mr. Magee started. Had she recognized him as the Magee of light fiction? It seemed hardly likely; they read his books, but they rarely remembered his name. Her face went suddenly grave. She came closer. ”I can't help wondering,” she said, ”which side you are on?”

”Which side of what?” asked Magee.

”Why, of this,” she answered, waving her hand toward the office below.

”I don't understand,” objected Mr. Magee.

”Let's not be silly,” she replied. ”You know what brought me here. I know what brought you. There are three sides, and only one is honest. I hope, so very much, that you are on that side.”

”Upon my word--” began Magee.

”Will it interest you to know,” she continued, ”I saw the big mayor of Reuton in the village this morning? With him was his shadow, Lou Max.

Let's see--you had the first key, Mr. Bland the second, the professor the third, and I had the fourth. The mayor has the fifth key, of course.

He'll be here soon.”

”The mayor,” gasped Mr. Magee. ”Really, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean. I'm here to work--”

”Very well,” said the girl coldly, ”if you wish it that way.” They came to the door of seventeen, and she took the pail from Mr. Magee's hand.

”Thanks.”

”'Where are you going, my pretty maid?'” asked Magee, indicating the pail.

”'”I'll see you at luncheon, sir,” she said,'” responded Miss Norton, and the door of seventeen slammed shut.

Mr. Magee returned to number seven, and thoughtfully stirred the fire.

The tangle of events bade fair to swamp him.

”The mayor of Reuton,” he mused, ”has the fifth key. What in the name of common sense is going on? It's too much even for melodramatic me.” He leaned back in his chair. ”Anyhow, I like her eyes,” he said. ”And I shouldn't want to be quoted as disapproving of her hair, either. I'm on her side, whichever it may be.”

CHAPTER VI

GHOSTS OF THE SUMMER CROWD

”I wonder,” Miss Norton smiled up into Mr. Magee's face, ”if you ever watched the people at a summer hotel get set on their mark for the sprint through the dining-room door?”

”No,” answered Magee, ”but I have visited the Zoo at meal-time. They tell me it is much the same.”

”A brutal comparison,” said the girl. ”But just the same I'm sure that the head waiter who opens the door here at Baldpate must feel much the same at the moment as the keeper who proffers the raw meat on the end of the pitchfork. He faces such a wild determined mob. The front rank is made up of hard-faced women worn out by veranda gossip. Usually some stiff old dowager crosses the tape first. I was thinking that perhaps we resembled that crowd in the eyes of Mr. Peters now.”

It was past one o'clock, and Mr. Magee with his four mysterious companions stood before the fire in the office, each with an eager eye out for the progress of the hermit, who was preparing the table beside them. Through the kindness of Quimby, the board was resplendent with snowy linen.

”We may seem over-eager,” commented Professor Bolton. ”I have no doubt we do. It is only natural. With nothing to look forward to but the next meal, the human animal attaches a preposterous importance to his feeding. We are in the same case as the summer guests--”