Part 20 (1/2)

”Bein' as how you're a gal,” said he, ”I ain't got much use fer ye, an'

that's a fact. I don't say it's your fault, nor that ye wouldn't 'a'

made a pa.s.s'ble boy ef ye'd be'n borned thet way. But you're right on one thing, an' don't fergit I told ye so: thet woman at Bigbee's ain't on the square.”

”How do you know?” asked Mary Louise, delighted to be taken into Bub's confidence--being a girl.

”The critter's too slick,” he explained, raising one bare foot to the cus.h.i.+on beside him and picking a sliver out of his toe. ”Her eyes ain't got their shutters raised. Eyes're like winders, but hers ye kain't see through. I don't know nuth'n' 'bout that slick gal at Bigbee's an' I don't want to know nuth'n'. But I heer'd what ye said to the boss, an'

what he said to you, an' I guess you're right in sizin' the critter up, an' the boss is wrong.”

With this he swung round again and started the car, nor did he utter another word until he ran the machine into the garage.

During Mary Louise's absence Irene had had a strange and startling experience with their beautiful neighbor. The girl had wheeled her chair out upon the bluff to sun herself and read, Mrs. Conant being busy in the house, when Agatha Lord strolled up to her with a smile and a pleasant ”good morning.”

”I'm glad to find you alone,” said she, seating herself beside the wheeled chair. ”I saw Mr. Conant and Mary Louise pa.s.s the Bigbee place and decided this would be a good opportunity for you and me to have a nice, quiet talk together. So I came over.”

Irene's face was a bit disdainful as she remarked:

”I found the cus.h.i.+on this morning.”

”What cus.h.i.+on do you refer to?” asked Agatha with a puzzled expression.

Irene frowned.

”We cannot talk frankly together when we are at cross purposes,” she complained.

”Very true, my dear; but you seem inclined to speak in riddles.”

”Do you deny any knowledge of my chair cus.h.i.+on!”

”I do.”

”I must accept your statement, of course. What do you wish to say to me, Miss Lord?”

”I would like to establish a more friendly understanding between us.

You are an intelligent girl and cannot fail to realize that I have taken a warm interest in your friend Mary Louise Burrows. I want to know more about her, and about her people, who seem to have cast her off. You are able to give me this information, I am sure, and by doing so you may be instrumental in a.s.sisting your friend materially.”

It was an odd speech; odd and insincere. Irene studied the woman's face curiously.

”Who are you, Miss Lord?” she inquired.

”Your neighbor.”

”Why are you our neighbor?”

”I am glad to be able to explain that--to you, in confidence. I am trying to clear the name of Colonel Weatherby from a grave charge--the charge of high treason.”

”In other words, you are trying to discover where he is,” retorted Irene impatiently.

”No, my dear; you mistake me. It is not important to my mission, at present, to know where Colonel Weatherby is staying. I am merely seeking relevant information, such information as you are in a position to give me.”