Part 64 (1/2)
”Yes--no, I left my gun at headquarters--that doesn't matter.”
Mrs. Sherwood made no comment. The wind caught her hair and whipped it about. In the distance now twinkled the lights of Jake's Place. Keith took a firmer grip on the reins, and again applied the whip. They swept into the gravelled driveway on two wheels, righted themselves, and rounded to the veranda. Keith pulled up and leaped to the ground.
n.o.body was visible. From the veranda he turned on them.
”Here, you!” he commanded Mrs. Sherwood sharply, ”I can't have you in this row! Stay here, outside. You take care of her,” he told Krafft.
”No, I mean it!”
On his words a scream burst from the lighted room. Keith sprang to the door, found it locked, and drew back. With a low mighty rush he thrust his shoulder against the panel near the lock. The wood splintered. He sprang forward into the room.
LXXV
After turning the key in the lock outside the parlour door Mrs. Morrell slipped along the dark veranda, pa.s.sed through a narrow hall, and entered a small back sitting-room. Jake's Place especially abounded in sitting-rooms. This particular one was next the parlour, so that one listening intently could be more or less aware of what was going on in the larger room. Here Morrell was already seated, a bottle of beer next his hand. He raised his eyebrows on her entrance, and she nodded back rea.s.suringly. She, too, sat down and helped herself to beer. Both smoked. For a long time neither said anything.
”Don't hear much in there,” observed Mrs. Morrell finally, in a low guarded tone.
”Not a sound,” agreed Morrell. ”You don't suppose she--”
”No, I don't think so.”
”Then I don't see what ails that fool, Sansome! It'd be just like him to jib.”
”What does it matter?” observed Mrs. Morrell philosophically, ”We don't care what is happening inside as long as those two doors stay locked until Teeny and Jimmy Ware get here.”
As has been mentioned, Pop McFarlane was also of the party; but, characteristically, neither would have thought that fact worth mentioning.
”Just the same, as a matter of academic interest, I'd have expected her to make more of a row,” said Morrell. ”I'll wager for all her airs she runs the same gait as all the rest of you.”
”Do you mean me?” demanded Mrs. Morrell, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng dangerously.
”Moderate your voice, my dear,” advised he. ”My remark was wholly general of your charming s.e.x.”
From the parlour now they heard faintly the first sounds of struggle.
”That's more like,” he said with satisfaction. ”I hate to have my ideals shattered.”
Wheels became audible.
”There's Teeny, now,” he observed, arising. He sauntered down the hall and looked out. ”Keith!” he whispered back over his shoulder. ”Where in h.e.l.l did he come from?” He continued to peer into the darkness.
”There's two others. Well, at any rate, we have plenty of witnesses!”
He turned to Mrs. Morrell. ”You'd better make yourself scarce. You locked that door, you know!”
”Scarce!” she repeated, staring at him. ”Where? How?”
He looked at her through narrowed lids.
”Get a horse of Jake,” he said at last. ”I'll meet you--oh, at the house. We'll arrange later.”