AUNT SALLY ENTERTAINS
As the returning search party came within sight of the Hathaway home,
they saw that it was brilliantly lighted and the fat, comfortable
shadow of Aunt Sally could be seen waddling back and forth in front of
the kitchen window.
“Hurrah!” shouted Josie. “Aunt Sally sure is on the job and we won’t go
hungry!”
They knew her surmise to be correct the minute they opened the door,
for the smell of frying chicken and delicious coffee was wafted to
their nostrils.
To Danny, who had eaten nothing all that day, and who had hastily
consumed only a few hard, dry sandwiches the day before, the odor was
like a breath of heaven. Hurrying back to his old tower room, he flung
off the mud-stained livery with loathing, and gloried in a piping hot
tub. Then he quickly slipped into a neat, well-tailored suit of quiet
brown. It was the first time Mary Louise would see him really dressed
and, boyishly, we wanted very much to have her satisfied.
When he entered the dining room a few minutes later, Mary Louise was
also entering from the hall, and from the soft blush with which she
greeted him one would surmise that Mary Louise was satisfied. As for
herself, Mary Louise had never looked so lovely. Her soft, dark curls,
still a bit damp from the rain, had been caught at the top of her head
and held there by a narrow band of pink. It gave her quite the look of
a little woman, or perhaps it was the startled, wistful and yet happy
expression of her lovely eyes, under which lay violet shadows, that
caused the old Colonel to realize with a start that Mary Louise had
suddenly grown up. She had slipped on a quite grown-up garment, a soft
and clinging tea gown of shell pink chiffon, and she entered the room a
little wearily and very shyly.
It seemed to the surprised Danny that there had never been any one so
lovely in the whole wide world before.
“Bless ma soul,” Aunt Sally was fussing as she placed one wonderful
dish after another upon the table in true Southern style. “Bless ma
soul, Aunt Sally knowed as when dey brung the little missy home dead
or alive she would be hungry.”
The platter of chicken, fried to a perfect brownness, was placed before
the Colonel, and the voice of Aunt Sally called through the butler’s
pantry, “Eben, you lazy ole niggah, bring in de candied yams.”
Uncle Eben did so, just as Josie came bouncing down the stairs
fastening the final hook to the crumpled linen dress as she came. “Oh,
dear Aunt Sally, how perfectly delicious everything does look, and I
never, never before ate dinner at two o’clock in the morning.”
Just then the honk of an auto was heard outside. This time both Mary
Louise and Danny were aware of the disturbance, so evidently their
sense of hearing was not permanently impaired. In a moment the door
opened and two tired, disgusted and discouraged men entered.
But the insidious aroma of that coffee of Aunt Sally’s seeped even
through their depression, and with a “God bless Aunt Sally,” Lonsdale
and Crocker both decided that life was probably worth living after all.
It was in fact a very happy party which gathered around the table at
the places Mary Louise had assigned to them, with a new little touch
of dignity that became her well.
Directly after dinner Aunt Sally insisted on taking Mary Louise off to
rest, and with a sleepy little “good-night” to them all, Mary Louise
was led away and tucked in bed as tenderly as when she was a little
child.
With her departure the room seemed very queer and empty, and Danny
suddenly realized how tired he was himself. So with a good-night to
the Colonel he was off to his tower room and to the soundest of deep
slumbers.
Not so with Josie O’Gorman. She was on a job and until her work was
finished she would need no rest. As Crocker was pulling on his gloves
preparatory to leaving she faced him squarely.
“Is there one bit of use for either you or me working on this case any
longer?” she inquired. “If there is, I’m willing to stay and help, but
if there isn’t, I guess there’re more important things for both of us
in Washington.”
“You’re right, you are,” agreed Crocker most definitely. “I hate like
the devil to give up the case but the man could hide here in the dunes
indefinitely, and I haven’t time to wait.”
“Of course,” added Josie, “the auto theft solved itself; they didn’t
really need me.”
“I’m not so sure, you gave them confidence and courage when they needed
it,” said Crocker, kindly, and reaching out a huge hand in friendly
farewell, “you’re a game youngster and I hope I run across you often.”
And Crocker strode down the front stairs to the waiting Lonsdale.
Josie turned back into the hall, glancing at Danny’s cap that had been
left on the hall tree, and at the little parasol of Mary Louise’s
leaning near it. A whimsical smile flashed over her face.
“Well,” she soliloquized, “I’ve not made very much out of this case,
but at least I’ve detected one thing--and that is the way the wind
blows in that quarter.”
With an all-inclusive glance at the parasol and cap she fled up the
stairs.