Part 34 (1/2)
”With whom do you go to the secret club-rooms--above White's ice cream parlor?” asked Lane, abruptly.
Bessy never flicked an eyelash. ”Hot dog! So you're wise to that? I thought it was a secret. I told Rose Clymer those fellows weren't on the level. Who told you I was there? Your sister Lorna?”
”No. No one told me. Never mind that. Who took you there? You needn't be afraid to trust _me_. I'm going to entrust my secrets to you by and bye.”
”I went with Roy Vancey, the boy who was with me at Helen's the day I met you.”
”Bessy, how often have you been to those club-rooms?”
”Three times.”
”Were you ever there alone without any girls?”
”No. I had my chance. d.i.c.k Swann tried his d.a.m.nedest to get me to go.
But I've no use for him.”
”Why?”
”I just don't like him, Daren,” she replied, evasively. ”I love to have fun. But I haven't yet been so hard up I had to go out with some one I didn't like.”
”Has Swann had my sister Lorna at the club?”
Her replies had been prompt and frank. At this sudden query she seemed checked. Lane read in Bessy Bell then more of the truth of her than he had yet divined. Falsehood was naturally abhorrent to her. To lie to her parents or teachers savored of fun, and was part of the game. She did not want to lie to Lane, but in her code she could not betray another girl, especially to that girl's brother.
”Daren, I promised I'd tell you all about myself,” she said.
”I shouldn't have asked you to give away one of your friends,” he returned. ”Some other time I'll talk to you about Lorna. Tell you what I know, and ask you to help me save her----”
”_Save_ her! What do you mean, Daren?” she interrupted, with surprise.
”Bessy, I've paid you the compliment of believing you have intelligence. Hasn't it occurred to you that Lorna--or other of her friends or yours--might be going straight to ruin?”
”Ruin! No, that hadn't occurred to me. I heard Doctor Wallace make a crack like yours. Mother hauled me to church the Sunday after you broke up Fanchon Smith's dance. Doctor Wallace didn't impress me.
These old people make me sick anyhow. They don't understand.... But Daren, I think I get your drift. So snow some more.”
All in a moment, it seemed to Lane, this girl pa.s.sed from surprise to gravity, then to contempt, and finally to humor. She was fascinating.
”To go back to the club,” resumed Lane. ”Bessy, what did you do there?”
”Oh, we toddled and s.h.i.+mmied. Cut up! Had an immense time, I'll say.”
”What do you mean by cut up?”
”Why, we just ran wild, you know. Fool stunts!... Once Roy was sore because I kicked cigarettes out of Bob's mouth. But the b.o.o.b was tickled stiff when I kicked for _him_. Jealous! It's all right with any one of the boys what you do for _him_. But if you do the same for _another_ boy--good night!”
Bessy had no divination of the fact that her words for Lane had a clarifying significance.
”I suppose you played what we used to call kissing games?” queried Lane.
A sweet, high trill of laughter escaped Bessy's red lips.
”Daren, you are funny. Those games are as dead as Caesar.... This bunch of boys and girls paired off by themselves to spoon.... As for myself, I don't mind spooning if I like the fellow--and he hasn't been drinking. But otherwise I hate it. All the same I got what was coming to me from some of the boys of the Strong Arm Club.”