An Oregon Girl Part 33

"That is my intention, Jack, and the day after tomorrow I visit Rosemont to persuade her to elope with me. Quite a society thrill--don't you know?"

"Thrill!" replied Jack, astonished. "You mean sensation. Hazel eloped with me Lord Beauchamp, Knight of the Garter. Have one on that, Phil."

"Oh, she's a darling, Jack, and now that Corway is out of the way--I think she'd like--to wear the garter," and he grinned jovially.

"A garter is fetching, Phil."

"Success to the garter! May Lady Hazel never let it fall; ha, ha," and Jack laughed merrily as he filled the gla.s.s.

"Evil be to him who evil thinks. My garter, Jack! He, he, he, he."

There was no mistaking the fact that the two men were verging on the hilarious, and though fully aware of the importance of conversing in low tones, they continued, because they felt satisfied the critical period of their operations had pa.s.sed and success was a.s.sured.

Again Rutley laughed. "Jack, I've had an itching palm today."

"So have I. See how red it is with scratching, and the sole of my left foot has been tickled to fits."

"The signs are right, Jack. I congratulate you on your luck, and if it is as good as your judgment of liquor--it is a d.a.m.ned good thing." He laughed as he seized the gla.s.s. "This is the proof," and he forthwith tossed it off, and handed the gla.s.s to Jack.

Jack's convivial spirits were quite willing. He took the gla.s.s, filled it, and laughingly said: "What is good for the devil, applies to his imp." Then he drained the gla.s.s and again laughed.

Rutley joined in. "You make me blus.h.!.+ Did you say your left foot tickled?"

"Yes!"

"You will change domiciles. What do you say to secretary-treasurer of the Securities Investment a.s.sociation?"

"What? Resurrect the old S. I. A.?" Jack replied, and he stared at Rutley with amazement.

"Yes! Thorpe and Harris put us out of business. Why not use their 'simoleons' to start up again?" And he chuckled with evident satisfaction.

"Agreed, Phil! Start her up with a full page ad in a Sunday paper, eh?

Ha, ha, ha, ha--a d.a.m.ned good thing."

"Precisely! Ahem," coughed Rutley. "We are pleased to announce that our former fellow townsmen, Mr. Philip Rutley and Mr. Jack Sh.o.r.e have returned very wealthy."

"And were received with open arms," added Jack, and he laughed.

"d.a.m.ned good joke, Phil; d.a.m.ned good joke. Have one on that!" And he turned and picked up bottle and gla.s.s from the table and offered them to his colleague.

Rutley always maintained a dignified bearing, yet his manners were quite unconventional, and suave, and easy, and it must be understood that neither of them on this occasion became boisterous. He took the proffered bottle and gla.s.s, poured liquor in the gla.s.s, and after setting the bottle on the table, said: "Thirty days later, a-hem! We congratulate the stockholders of the reorganized Securities Investment a.s.sociation on the able and efficient management of your officers, Manager Philip Rutley and Secretary-Treasurer Jack Sh.o.r.e." He then drained the gla.s.s and handed it to Jack.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha," laughed Jack, as he took the gla.s.s and poured the liquor in it, and pointedly added: "Addenda! It affords us much pleasure to apologize for our former charge of wilful dishonesty against the gentlemen above mentioned. Signed: John Thorpe, James Harris, committee." And Jack drained the gla.s.s.

"He, he, he, he," softly laughed Rutley. "Very proper, my boy; quite so!"

"It only needs the measly 'yellow goods' to make it practical,"

suggested Jack.

"My dear, ahem, Mr. Secretary, don't let that trifle worry you. The 'yellow goods' are coming as sure as day follows night."

"I hope the day will not again plunge us into night," laughed Jack.

"Oh, don't put it that way," testily rejoined Rutley. "Disagreeably suggestive, you know--d.a.m.ned bad taste."

Rutley's supersensitiveness, in their present situation, was greeted by Jack with a burst of suppressed laughter. "When Eve tempted and Adam bit, he took his medicine without a fit. Have another, Phil."

Without accepting the bottle, and seemingly without heeding the remark, Rutley inquired, a bit seriously: "Is the dog on guard?"

"Yes," replied Jack, standing stock still, with the bottle in one hand and the tumbler in the other. "Tied to a stick of driftwood on sh.o.r.e.

No interlopers while Snooks is on watch. Why?" The question was asked rather soberly.

"I received a tip that you are shadowed and trouble may come before dawn. When it comes the little one must not be here."

"I agree with you," responded Jack. "I've lost that medal somewhere, too."

"Ye G.o.ds!" gravely replied Rutley, with an alarmed look. "If it falls into the hands of a detective, it may serve as a clue. Curious, too. I recall now that the dog didn't bark or growl when I approached the cabin."

"I wonder!" exclaimed Jack. "Maybe Snooks has got loose and is wandering about the island. We had better make sure."

Setting the bottle and tumbler on the table, he opened the cabin door and stepped somewhat unsteadily on the platform. Closing the door, he peered sh.o.r.eward, then softly whistled. After listening intently, and hearing nothing, he called, in a low voice:

"Snooks! Snooks!" Receiving no response, and being unable to identify shapeless objects on the sh.o.r.e, through the darkness, he re-entered the cabin, quietly as possible, and with a concerned look on his face.

"I believe the dog has got away. I'll go ash.o.r.e and investigate."

"I'll go with you," a.s.sured Rutley. "Jack, better see that the child's asleep."

Jack took the lamp from the bracket, opened the part.i.tion door, looked in at the sleeping child, and closed the door as gently as he had opened it. "Sound asleep," he whispered. Then he replaced the lamp, blew out the light, and made his way out onto the platform, accompanied by Rutley.

Quietly they stepped into a small boat, fastened to the logs, and pushed off towards the sh.o.r.e.

It was then Jack remembered that he had not locked the door, and wanted to return for that purpose, but Rutley demurred.

"Time is precious," he murmured, rather thickly. "Besides we shall be gone only a few minutes, and it is unlikely that the child will stir in the darkness."

CHAPTER XV.

They had scarcely reached the sh.o.r.e when another small boat came gliding noiselessly along down toward the cabin. The boat contained Virginia and Constance. As they approached near, propulsion ceased, and the boat drifted along. Virginia turned half around on her seat, listened intently, and looked at the dark cabin, with eyes that fairly sparkled, in her effort to penetrate its interior. Slowly the boat drew along the platform. Quietly and cautiously they stepped out, and after fastening the line which held the boat to an iron ring which had been driven into one of the logs for that purpose, Virginia took Constance by the hand, which she felt tremble, and caused her to whisper: "Courage, dear." Then she tapped gently on the door.

Receiving no response, she tapped again, then tried the k.n.o.b, and, to her amazement, the door opened.

For a moment they stood on the threshold, irresolute. A whiff of tobacco smoke brushed their nostrils.

Virginia timidly stepped within, followed closely by Constance. The darkness was intense, the stillness profound. "Whew!" Virginia e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, in a whisper. "The den reeks with tobacco smoke. He must be asleep."

She softly closed the door and lighted one of the matches which she had been careful to provide herself with.