Brenda's Ward Part 40

CHAPTER XXII

EXCITEMENT

Mrs. Stratford was interested in Martine's account of her interview with Balfour Airton.

"I should certainly like to see him, and if he's as you describe him, and I am sure he is, I should be glad to welcome him as a long lost cousin. From what Mrs. Redmond has said, I'm sure that he contributed a great deal to your pleasure last summer."

Several days pa.s.sed and Balfour did not appear. At last Mrs. Stratford sent a note to the headquarters of the trolley line addressed to Balfour and inviting him to tea. On the appointed evening he made his appearance at Red Knoll.

"It is not often," he said, "that I can get enough time off to accept an invitation of this kind; but I can tell you that it's very delightful to be among friends. That's the worst of going so far from home. You're among strangers and n.o.body cares especially for you."

Although Martine and her mother were both somewhat curious as to what had brought Balfour to this corner of the world, for the moment they asked no questions. Martine inquired about Eunice.

"Of course she writes regularly to Priscilla," she said, "and Priscilla keeps me informed about Annapolis happenings. Do you think your sister will go to college?"

Balfour shook his head.

"I am not sure; I am not even sure that Eunice knows her own mind; but if she does wish to go to college, some one will certainly find a way for her to carry out her wishes."

Martine, looking at him, felt that Balfour was likely to be that "some one."

"I ought to say," added Balfour, turning to Mrs. Stratford, "that the money so kindly sent Eunice last autumn did an immense amount of good.

It was the first money of her own that she had ever had to handle, and I may add," he concluded smiling, "that she has at least half of it still stored away for a rainy day."

At last Martine could not control her curiosity.

"How did you happen to think of coming up here?" she asked.

"Oh, some of my friends had had opportunities as extra men on the New England trolley lines, and I decided that I could spend my time more profitably here than on the vehicle I drove last summer.

"That wasn't such a bad vehicle," interposed Martine. "If you hadn't been driving it, I might still be lost in the fog."

During this conversation the three had gone outside to sit. And now in the darkness they heard a voice inquiring anxiously, "Is this Red Knoll?"

"It's Mr. Gamut," exclaimed Martine, and rus.h.i.+ng forward, was soon greeting the old gentleman.

"I've only just come back," he cried volubly after he had joined the group. "You must have thought it strange that I disappeared so completely; but I was called away on business, and my niece has been visiting friends on the South Sh.o.r.e. Now tell me about your father; what do you hear? Good news, I hope."

Martine said nothing.

"What we hear is indefinite," said Mrs. Stratford.

"Oh, well, 'no news is good news' and you must expect the best. Young people who have no care don't realize the ups and downs of life; they expect things to move along in an upward line. You, young man," he continued, "expect life to continue to be one continual round of pleasure; you bathe, play golf, drive, have evening excursions, and it's all right for the summer; but after a while you will have a hard hill to climb, and that is right too; it's part of life; only you mustn't let the summer spoil you."

"Oh, but Mr. Gamut," began Martine.

"Yes, I know," said Mr. Gamut, turning to Balfour, "you think perhaps there needn't be a hill for every one."

"I think I know what Miss Stratford meant to say; she meant to tell you that I am not a pleasure seeker, but a worker. I am simply a conductor on the trolley line."

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the old gentleman, and though the light was too dim for him really to see, Balfour realized that Mr. Gamut had raised his gla.s.ses and had fixed his eyes upon him.

"A conductor!" he exclaimed; "how extraordinary! do you really think it will lead to something? That's what a young man should always ask himself."

"It will lead to my having more money at the end of the season than I had before," responded Balfour.

"Yes, yes; but it's very unusual." Before Mr. Gamut could complete his sentence, a loud scream from the direction of the kitchen fell on the ears of the four.

"I wish Angelina were not so excitable," said Mrs. Stratford. "It takes so little to make her scream; probably she has seen a mouse."

When the scream rang out a second time, Balfour started to his feet and in another instant was racing to the gate in pursuit of a flying figure; an instant later, the others had reached Angelina.

"It was a burglar," she cried. "He was opening the trunks in the ell room, and when I came through with the safety lamp in my hand I saw him plainly, and he started and ran, leaving his booty on the floor," she concluded dramatically.

"But those were empty trunks," cried Martine, climbing the stairs.

"Come and see," said Angelina, leading the way upstairs, where indeed the floor was strewn with clothing. Martine picked up a delicate muslin skirt.

"This isn't mine, mamma," she said. "The man must have had a bundle with him that he dropped here; these things are not mine; it all seems very queer."

"Yes," said Angelina, "especially as the burglar is an old acquaintance of mine."

Thoughts of collusion crossed Mrs. Stratford's mind while Angelina continued:

"It was years and years ago, and I'd know him anywhere; especially because I've seen his twin brother since, and he looks just like him, though this wasn't the twin. He's an honest man and he lives in Salem."

"Let us get out into the fresh air again," said Mrs. Stratford. "I feel faint."

"Angelina's story makes me feel fainter," added Martine.

"I hope that interesting young conductor hasn't been hurt by the burglar; if he should catch him, I wonder if he'd know what to do with him."

"We can only wait."

Their time of waiting was not long. Balfour came back rather crestfallen.

"He gave me a great run," said Balfour, "and I couldn't catch up with him. But I'm sure he won't trouble you again, and on my way home I'll telephone so that the authorities here and in Portsmouth can be on the lookout for him. Do you suppose he took anything of yours?"

"I hardly think so," replied Martine, "he seems to have left something behind him."

"Oh, he's nothing but a sneak thief," continued Angelina. "I know him."

"A friend of yours?" asked Balfour in surprise.

"Oh, Angelina was just going to tell us about him," said Mrs. Stratford, trying to repress certain suspicions regarding Angelina that had come to her since the girl had said that she knew the intruder.

"It was this way," continued Angelina, pleased, as usual, to be the centre of interest. "It was my mother he took the money from a long time ago, when she lived at the North End. It was the money that was to take us to the country, that Miss Brenda and her Club had made at a bazaar; and he went off to some far country, and now he's come back, I suppose he'll go on stealing. Miss Brenda had to make up the money out of her own allowance, because she had been careless in giving the money too soon to my mother. So if you had caught this thief, Mister--" here Angelina hesitated, not knowing Balfour's name,--"we might have recovered what he took."