ANNE HAS A SECRET
On the night of the flying machine exhibition, the four chums, for Anne
had now been formally adopted by Grace and her friends, arrived somewhat
early at the great arched doorway leading into the gymnasium.
They were all somewhat excited over this new experience. There had been
many balloon ascensions at the State Fair, and once a dirigible airship
had sailed over the town of Oakdale. But to see a real flying machine
with all its grace and elegance and lightness was like stepping onto
another planet where progress had advanced much faster than it had on
this.
At least, so thought Anne as she followed her friends into the building.
There was a sound of puffing and churning, during which David arrived in
a cloud of smoke on his motor cycle.
"I mean to learn to ride one of those queer machines," exclaimed Grace
from the doorway, never dreaming what an important part that very
machine was one day to play in the history of Oakdale.
"All right, you're welcome to," replied David, jumping off as he stopped
the motor. "Come over to the campus to-morrow afternoon, and I'll give
you your first lesson."
"Is that really an invitation?" asked Grace. "For I shall accept it, if
it is."
"It certainly is," answered the young man, "and I shall expect you to
make a very excellent prize pupil, not like Reddy Brooks, who tumbled
off and smashed his nose because he suddenly forgot how to manage the
brakes."
A few other people gathered in the roomy gymnasium to see the
exhibition, but the girls could see that it was a very exclusive company
they had been invited to join. There were, in fact, no other girls,
except Miriam Nesbit, who came late with her mother, a handsome, quiet
woman to whom her son David bore a marked resemblance.
Grace and her friends spoke to Mrs. Nesbit cordially, while Miriam bowed
coldly and confined all her attentions to Miss Leece, the unpopular
teacher of mathematics. Miriam ignored Anne entirely.
"And now, ladies, if you will all be seated, the show will begin,"
announced David, leading them to the spectators' benches ranged against
the wall. "Don't expect anything wonderful of mine," he added. "It's
only in the first stages so far. I'm afraid she'll break down, but she's
a great little machine, just the same. Isn't she, mother?"
"She is wonderful, I think, David," replied Mrs. Nesbit, who was a very
shy, quiet woman, almost entirely wrapped up in her only son. Miriam had
always been too much for her, and she had long since given up attempting
to rule or direct her brilliant, willful daughter.
"Mrs. Nesbit," said Grace, "this is Anne Pierson, one of the brightest
girls in the freshman class."
"How do you do?" said Mrs. Nesbit cordially, giving the girl her hand.
"You are a newcomer, are you not? I haven't heard Miriam speak of you."
"She is a newcomer, mother, but I hear she's giving your daughter Miriam
a stiff pull for first place," said David teasingly.
"I wish you'd keep quiet, David," exclaimed his sister angrily. "You
always talk too much."
"Miriam!" remonstrated her mother.
"Miss Nesbit," said Miss Leece in a disagreeable, harsh voice, "will
have no trouble, I think, in holding her own."
The teacher gave Anne such a glare from her pale blue eyes that the poor
child shrank behind Grace in embarrassment.
"Dear, dear," murmured Mrs. Nesbit helplessly. She disliked exceedingly
the scenes to which her daughter often subjected the family.
David only laughed good-naturedly.
"The exhibition is about to begin," he said, and disappeared into the
room where the ships were to be put through their performances.
In a few moments six young airship builders appeared, each carrying in
his arms the result of his summer's labors. There was vigorous applause
from everybody except Miriam, who was too angry with her brother to
enjoy the spectacle.
The aeroplanes were all copies of well-known models, except David's,
which was of an entirely new and original design of his own invention.
It looked something like a flying fish, the girls thought, with its
slender, oblong body, gauzy fins at the sides and a funny little forked
tail at the stern.
The models were too light for machinery, so rubber bands, secured
cris-cross in the bows, when suddenly released with a snap gave the
little ships the impetus they needed to fly the length of the gymnasium.
Only four of the six, however, were destined to fly that evening. They
soared straight down the big room, as easily and gracefully as great
white birds, and dropped gently when they hit the curtain at the other
end, their builders running after them as eagerly as boys sailing kites.
One of the models fluttered and settled down before it reached the other
side, and David's machine, which had commanded most attention because it
was different, started out bravely enough, its little propeller making a
busy humming as it skimmed along. But it had gone hardly ten yards
before it collapsed and ignominiously crashed to the floor.
"I'm glad of it," said Miriam above the din, for everyone had gathered
about the young man to offer sympathy and congratulations at the same
time.
"It's very, very clever, my boy," said Professor Blitz, "and you'll
succeed yet, if you keep at it."
"She wouldn't go far, David," said Grace, stroking the little model, as
if it had been a pet dog, "but she's the prettiest of all, just the
same."
"Did it hurt it when it fell?" Anne asked him.
"I think it broke one of its little fins," laughed David. "It hurt me
much more than itself, because it wouldn't be good and fly all the way."
"Anne," called Grace, "here is some one looking for you. It's a boy with
a note."
Anne looked frightened as she opened a soiled looking envelope the boy
handed her.
"Is anything the matter?" asked Jessica, seeing the expression of fear
on her face.
"No--yes----," answered poor little Anne, undecidedly. "I must go home,
or rather I mustn't go the way I came. Don't you think I could leave at
a side entrance? I don't want to see the person who is waiting for me in
front."
"Of course, child," spoke up Grace. "We'll see you home ourselves. Won't
we, girls!"
"Wait until I lock up my motor cycle and I'll go along," called David.
"We'll all protect Miss Anne."
"Tell him," said Anne to the boy, putting the note back in the envelope
and giving it to him, "that what he asks is impossible."
"Couldn't you squeeze us into the carriage, mother?" asked David,
returning presently with his hat.
"I have invited Miss Leece to drive home with us, mother," interrupted
Miriam, giving her brother a blighting glance. "There is room for only
one more person. Perhaps Jessica will take it."
"You are very kind," said Jessica coldly, "but I prefer to walk with the
girls."
"_You'd_ better walk, too, cross-patch, and learn a few manners from
your friends," was David's parting advice to his sister.
"Children, children!" exclaimed Mrs. Nesbit, "don't, I beg of you,
quarrel in public."
Presently the five young people had slipped out of a side door of the
gymnasium and started down a back street in the direction of Anne's
house. They had not gone far, however, before they became aware that
they were being followed. Grace was the first to call the attention of
Nora and Jessica to a long, slim figure stealing after them in the
shadows.
"Here he comes," whispered Jessica. "What in the world do you suppose he
wants with our poor little Anne?"
"I believe he's going to stop us," returned Grace. "He is coming nearer
and nearer."
"Anne, I command you to wait!" called a voice from behind them.
They all stopped suddenly and Anne jumped as though she had received a
shock.
A tall, theatrical-looking individual had come up to them. He wore a
shabby frock coat and a black slouch hat, which he raised with an
elaborate flourish when he saw the young girls.
"Pardon me, ladies," he said, "but I wish to speak with my daughter."
Anne controlled herself with an effort.
"I cannot see you now, father," she said. "It is quite late and I must
get back."
"You shall not only speak to me but you shall come with me," exclaimed
the man, with a sudden flare of anger. "I will not submit to
disobedience again. Come at once!"
"Father, I cannot go with you," cried Anne, clinging to her friends. "I
would rather be with mother and Mary. They need me more than you do and
I want to go to school and study to be a teacher."
The man was now beside himself with theatrical rage.
"Miserable child!" he cried, waving his arms wildly. "I shall take you
if I must by force." Breaking through the group, he seized the hand of
his daughter and dragged her after him.
"Oh, save me!" cried the poor girl, struggling to release herself.
"I can't stand this! If she doesn't want to go with him, she shan't,
father or no father," growled David, dashing after the pair.
"Stop, sir!" he cried, seizing Anne's other hand. "I must ask you to
release this young lady at once."
"Insolent boy!" cried the other, giving each word an oratorical
flourish, "are you not aware that this young lady, as you call her, is
merely a child, and that she happens to be my daughter? I cannot see
that you have a right to interfere in a family matter."
"But I have no proof that Miss Pierson is your daughter," retorted
David. "It is enough that she doesn't want to go with you. I undertook
to see her safely to her own home, this evening, and I mean to do it.
After that you may settle your difficulties as you please."
"Miserable upstart!" cried the man, now so thoroughly angry that he let
go Anne's hand, "I have a good mind to give you what you deserve. As for
you, undutiful, wretched girl," he added, his voice rising to an
emotional tremolo, "you shall be well punished for this!"
"Don't wait," whispered Anne. "If we run, we can get away, now, while he
is so angry." At that they all took to their heels, David following
after them, much relieved to have given Anne's father the slip without
further disagreeable argument.
No one spoke until they had reached the Pierson cottage and had seen
Anne safely to the front door.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed at last, trying not to cry. "I wouldn't
for anything have had it happen, and just when you were all beginning to
like me a little. Will you forgive me?"
"Forgive you, Anne!" cried Grace. "It wasn't your fault. We are only
awfully sorry for you."
"We will just forget all about it, and never speak of it to anyone,"
promised Jessica, taking the girl's hand kindly.
"But I want you to understand that I was right in not going," protested
Anne. "Some day I will explain."
"Of course you were right," said David, "and I hope you will never be
persuaded to go."
"Thank you, all, a thousand times!" came gratefully from Anne; "and good
night." Then she disappeared into the cottage.
"Well, this was a night's adventure," observed Grace, as they started
homeward.
"I am afraid Anne's father is a night's adventurer," muttered David. "He
looks mightily like one of those strolling actors who go barnstorming
through country towns."
"Poor Anne! Do you suppose he wants her to barnstorm?" asked Nora.
"I haven't a doubt of it," replied the young man. "I think you girls had
better adopt that poor child and look after her."
"We have already," answered Grace. "Didn't Miriam tell you about it?"
"Miriam? No; she never tells me anything. Besides, what has she to do
with it?"
The girls were silent.
"By the way," continued Grace, "speaking of barnstorming, we want to ask
your advice, David. The sophomores played a mean trick on us the other
day at the old Omnibus House."
"I heard something about the Black Monks of Asia," answered David,
laughing.
"Can't your inventive brain devise a scheme of revenge?" went on Grace.
"If we don't get even with them soon, the story will be all over town."
"Well," replied David, "I can tell you a secret I happened to have
overheard when one of the sophomores was calling on Miriam. I was an
eavesdropper entirely by accident, but what I heard might help some. The
sophomores are going to give an initiation mask ball a week from
Saturday night. Only the class and a few outsiders, among them Miriam,
are to be present. Everybody is to be in fancy dress, and disguised out
of all recognition. Can't you work up a scheme with that to go upon,
girls?"
"We certainly can," cried Nora. "It's the chance of a lifetime."
"Just wait and see!" exclaimed Grace.
"By the way, David, you didn't happen to overhear the password, did
you?" asked Jessica.
"I did," he replied. "Nothing escaped me, for I was caught in a trap.
You know I don't care for that large, husky young damsel who leads the
sophomores, and if I had made my presence behind the screen known, I
should have had to speak to her. So I just sat still and said nothing.
The password is 'Asia.'"
"They are trying to rub it in, I suppose," cried Grace. "But I think
they won't be so ready to use that word after their old ball is over."
"If you want any help," offered David as he left Grace at her front
door, "you know where to come for it, don't you?"
"You're a true brick, David!" said Grace. "Good night."