Part 10 (2/2)
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.
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