Part 15 (1/2)
The Bartons lived in one of the apartments of the building. The front door was locked, and so Bob was forced reluctantly to ring the bell beneath the name which indicated their particular letter box.
He waited, holding the young girl in his arms.
”Oh, I'm so sick!” he heard her say faintly, and he realized that she was regaining consciousness.
”If only I can get her upstairs quietly,” he thought.
He was about to swing her body around in his arms so that he could ring once more when there was a turning of the k.n.o.b.
”Who is it?” came a frightened voice.
It was Mary Barton at the doorway.
”S-s-s-h!” cautioned Bob. ”It's Burke. I'm bringing Miss Lorna home?
Don't make any noise.”
”Oh!” gasped the unhappy sister. ”What's wrong? Is she hurt?”
”No!” said Bob. ”Fortunately not.”
”Is she-- Oh-- Is she--drunk?”
Burke calmed her with the rea.s.surance of his low, steady voice.
”No, Miss Mary. She was drugged by those rascals, and I saved her in time. Please don't cry, or make a noise. Let me take her upstairs and help you. It's better if she does not know that I was the one to bring her home.”
Mary tried to help him; but Bob carried the girl on into the hall.
”Is your father awake?”
”No; I told him two hours ago, when he asked me from his room, that Lorna had returned and was asleep. He believed me. I had to fib to save him from breaking his dear old daddy heart. Is she injured at all?”
It was plainly evident that the poor girl was holding her nerves in leash with a tremendous effort.
Bob kept on toward the stairs.
”She'll be all right when you get her into her room. Give her some smelling salts, and don't tell your father. Didn't he hear the bell?”
”No; I've been waiting for her. I put some paper in the bell so that it would only buzz when it rang. Let me help you, Mr. Burke. How on earth did you----” She was eager in spite of her anxiety.
To see the young officer returning with her sister this way was more of a mystery than she could fathom. But, at Bob's sibilant command for silence, she trustingly obeyed, and went up before him to guide the way along the darkened stairway.
At last they reached the door of their apartment.
Mary opened it, and Bob entered, walking softly. She led the way to her humble little bedroom, the one which she and Lorna shared. Bob laid the sister upon the bed, and beckoned Mary to follow him. Lorna was moving now, her hands tremulous, and she was half-moaning.
”I want my Mary. I want my Mary.”
Her sister followed Burke out into the hall, which led down the steps to the street.