ANOTHER REASON FOR FINDING TOM MORAN
Dorothy had freshened up little Celia’s garments as well as she could
while the child slept. She was handier with the needle than Tavia,
although the latter had greatly improved in domestic science since
those early days when she first began to take pattern of Dorothy, back
in Dalton.
“Those shoes aren’t fit for the child to wear,” grumbled Tavia, who was
helping to dress Celia when the warning bell for supper rang.
“Come on! Hurry up!” commanded Dorothy. “We’re late now. Haven’t you
got her shoes on yet?”
“Yes, ma’am! all but one,” responded Tavia.
“‘All but one!’ How many feet has the poor child got?” cried Dorothy.
“You talk as though she were a centipede.”
“She wriggles as though she had a hundred legs,” panted Tavia. “Do be
still, dearie--for a minute.”
“Celia’s full of wriggles,” declared Dorothy. “Now come. Aren’t you
hungry, dear?”
“Oh-o-o! You jes’ bet I am!” exclaimed Celia, running to the door ahead
of her friends.
“Nice bread and milk for little girls--and plenty of it,” promised
Dorothy.
“Don’t they haf to save the milk here at this school?” asked Celia,
wonderingly. “Sometimes I get a little skimmed milk; but Mrs. Hogan
says it pays best to give it to the hens and pigs.”
“I suppose it does!” growled Tavia. “She can’t sell little girls when
they are fattened.”
“Hush!” warned Dorothy, opening the door for the impatient Celia. “Now,
wait and walk beside me--like a little lady.”
The other girls were eager to see and speak with the little runaway.
Miss Olaine being absent from her station at the head of the senior
table, the classmates of Dorothy and Tavia hardly ate, watching Celia
and listening to her prattle.
“She just is the cutest little thing that ever happened!” murmured
Cologne.
Dorothy had placed Celia between herself and Tavia, and the little
girl sat upon a dictionary borrowed from the principal’s office. Celia
had been neglected in many ways, one of which was in the niceties of
etiquette. So Dorothy whispered to her to use her fork more frequently
than she did a spoon, or her fingers--for there was something beside
bread and milk for the little visitor.
“Ain’t that funny?” cried Celia, in her shrill voice. “I used to eat
with my spoon, an’ now you tell me to eat with my fork, Dorothy; how
old must I be ’fore I eat with my knife--say?”
The upper class had the fun of Celia at table; but afterward she was
borne off to the gym., where the whole school could entertain her.
Tavia took charge. The girls got into their gym. suits and an
up-to-the-minute circus was arranged for the visitor’s entertainment.
There was “ground and lofty tumbling,” clown tricks, jumping through
hoops, Ned Ebony in tights and tinsel to represent the usual lady
“bare-back rider,” all the known ferocious beasts in chair-rung cages,
with the labels displayed very prominently, including the “Gyrogustus”
and the “Chrisomela-bypunktater”; and at last there was a splendid
side show, with Cologne in a position of prominence as the $10,000 Fat
Beauty, Molly Richards as an Albino Twin, Nita as the Tatooed Lady,
well disguised with red, blue and green chalk, and Tavia herself as
the Bearded Lady, with so much black fringe on her face that she could
scarcely talk.
Celia entered into the spirit of all the fun, appeared scared into fits
by the roaring of the lions and the fierce appearance of the other
astonishing animals; laughed at the antics of the clowns, was thrilled
by the acrobatics, and wasn’t quite sure that Nita’s “tattooing” would
really come off if you rubbed it!
The nine o’clock bell sent all hands scattering to their rooms. Perhaps
Mrs. Pangborn had been more lenient than usual this evening; at least,
none of the other teachers had interfered with the hilarity of the
school in general--and the strict Miss Olaine was shut away in her room.
But as Dorothy and Tavia, bearing the sleepy Celia in a “chair” between
them, passed the door of Miss Olaine’s room, they saw Mrs. Pangborn
come forth.
“Let me see your little friend, Dorothy,” she said, hastily, and the
chums stopped to introduce Celia Moran to the principal.
“So this is Tom Moran’s little sister; is it?” Mrs. Pangborn said,
patting the little girl’s cheek.
“Do--do _you_ know my brother, Tom Moran, ma’am?” asked Celia,
sleepily. “He’s big--an’ he’s got _such_ red hair--and he builds
bridges an’ things----”
She almost nodded off to sleep. Mrs. Pangborn kissed her. “I have heard
a good deal about Tom Moran--this evening,” she said, and she looked
significantly back at the door which she had just closed.
Tavia flashed a meaning look at Dorothy, and the moment the principal
was out of the way, she whispered: “What did I tell you?”
“About what?” demanded Dorothy.
“About Miss Olaine and Tom Moran? She knows something about him and
she has been telling Mrs. Pangborn.”
“Sh!” warned Dorothy. “If it was anything that might lead to his being
found, she would have told me--surely.”
“Who?”
“Mother Pangborn.”
“Well, there’s something queer about it,” declared Tavia, nodding, “and
Miss Olaine _knows_.”
They put Celia to bed in Number Nineteen and some time after Dorothy
had put out the light and crept in beside the little girl--Tavia was
already asleep in her own bed--Dorothy heard a sound outside of the
door.
Somebody was creeping along the corridor. Was it some teacher on the
watch for some infraction of the rules? Dorothy had heard nothing of a
“spread-eagle” affair on this corridor to-night.
The step stopped. Was it at this door? For some moments Dorothy lay,
covered to her ears, and listened.
Then to her surprise she knew that the door was open. It was the draft
from the window that assured her of this fact. The door was opened
wider and a tall figure, dimly visible because of the light in the
hall, pushed into the room.
The lock clicked faintly as the knob was released by the marauder’s
hand. Dorothy was half-frightened at first; then she _knew_ there could
be nobody about the building who would hurt her.
The visitor moved toward her bed. Peeping carefully, but continuing to
breathe in the same regular fashion that Tavia did, Dorothy watched the
shadowy form draw near.
It was a woman, for whoever it was had on a long woollen dressing gown.
But the face and head were in complete shadow, and at first Dorothy had
no idea as to the person’s identity.
The woman came close to the foot of the bed and stood there for several
minutes. Dorothy began to feel highly nervous--she really thought she
should scream. Not that she was afraid as yet; but the strange actions
of the Unknown----
Ah! now she was moving nearer. She was coming alongside--between
Tavia’s and Dorothy’s beds. Celia was on that side, and Dorothy was
about to put her arm protectingly over the child.
Then she feared the visitor would suspect that _she_ was not asleep.
And if she was frightened off, Dorothy might not learn who it was.
So the girl kept very still, continuing to breathe deeply and
regularly. The woman stooped closer and closer. It was over Celia that
she bent, and Dorothy saw her hand steal out to draw the sheet farther
back from the child’s face.
Then Dorothy knew suddenly who it was. She recognized the long,
clawlike hand; and the peculiar ring upon the third finger--the
engagement finger--fully identified Miss Olaine!
Dorothy had often noted that ring on the strange teacher’s hand. Miss
Olaine had come creeping into the room, supposing all the girls to be
asleep, just to see Celia Moran!
There could be no doubt but that Miss Olaine had some deep interest in
the Morans--in both Tom and Celia. Tavia had suggested such a thing;
but really Dorothy had not believed it before Mrs. Pangborn spoke as
she did on this evening as the girls were coming up to bed with Celia.
The queer teacher bent down and peered into the face of the unconscious
child. A glance at Dorothy seemed to have satisfied her that the latter
was asleep. All her interest was centered in the little child who had
run away from her hard task-mistress.
She stooped lower. Dorothy saw that Miss Olaine’s face was
tear-streaked and her eyes were wet. She bent near, breathing softly,
and touched her lips to the pale forehead of little Celia.
Then Miss Olaine rose up quickly and stole away from the bed again.
Dorothy almost forgot to breathe steadily. She was amazed and
excited by the actions of the teacher who, heretofore, had seemed so
hard-hearted.
There certainly was what Tavia would have called a “soft streak” in
Miss Olaine. Dorothy was sure that she heard her sobbing as the
teacher opened the door quietly again and stole out.
What did it mean? Had Miss Olaine a personal interest in the little
girl from the “Findling asylum”--the little lost sister of Tom Moran?
Evidently Mrs. Pangborn had told her assistant of the presence in the
school that night of little Celia. Miss Olaine must have a deeper
interest in Tom Moran than the incident of the school building fire two
years before would suggest.
It was a big mystery--a puzzle that Dorothy could not fathom, though
she lay awake a long time trying to do so. Here was another reason for
finding the missing man. Dorothy could not help pitying Miss Olaine,
although the teacher had treated her so harshly for a fortnight or more.
“Just as Mrs. Pangborn says, we have reason to excuse her harshness,”
thought Dorothy, as usual willing and ready to excuse other people.
“And I’d just love to be the one to clear all the trouble up both for
Miss Olaine and little Celia.
“Finding Tom Moran will bring Celia happiness, I am sure. Now, would
finding him bring happiness to Rebecca Olaine, as well?”
Early in the morning Mrs. Ann Hogan made her appearance at Glenwood
School. But Dorothy and Tavia had got Celia up betimes, and the three
had had their breakfast before the regular breakfast hour. Tavia always
knew how to “get around the cook” and did about as she pleased with
that good soul.
“We’ll just fill Celia up as tight as a little tick,” declared Tavia,
“before that ogress carries her off to her castle again. Oh, Dorothy!
do you suppose that horrid thing will _beat_ poor little Celia?”
“I am sure Mrs. Pangborn will ’tend to that matter,” Dorothy said.
And Mrs. Pangborn did ask Mrs. Hogan into her office before she had
Celia brought in by the girls. It was evident that the dignified school
principal had spoken much to the point to the red-faced Mrs. Hogan, for
the latter was both subdued and nervous when Celia appeared.
“Celia has certainly done wrong in coming here to find you, Dorothy,”
said Mrs. Pangborn, quietly. “I hope you said nothing to her which
encouraged her to run away?”
“Oh, no, indeed, Mrs. Pangborn!” said Dorothy, while Celia clung tight
about her neck and looked fearfully at her taskmistress.
“Then Mrs. Hogan knows that it was just the child’s longing for you
that brought her here.”
“Sure, the little plague has been talkin’ about Miss Dale all the time
since she was wid us for the week-end,” grumbled Mrs. Hogan. “Come
here, Cely. I’ll not chastise ye this time--but if there’s another----”
“I am sure there is no need of threatening her,” interposed Mrs.
Pangborn. “Come, Celia!”
The little one unclasped her hands lingeringly from about Dorothy’s
neck.
“Oh, I’ll find some way to see you again, Dorothy Dale,” she whispered.
“For you know they all say----”
“You be good, and I’ll come to see you,” declared Dorothy.
“And so will I,” cried Tavia, almost in tears.
“Yes. You both come. It--it won’t be so bad if I can see you now and
then,” sighed Celia. “And you’ll find Tom Moran?”
“Have done with that fulishness now!” exclaimed Mrs. Hogan. “She goes
on about that brother av hern foriver. Ye’ll niver see him again, my
gur-r-rl.”
“Oh, yes, she shall!” cried Dorothy Dale. “Don’t you fear, Celia. I
shall find him for you.”
Then Mrs. Hogan bore the little one off to her wagon, and they drove
away. It made Dorothy and Tavia feel very sad to see the cute little
thing go off in such a way.
“I am sure that woman abuses her!” cried Tavia.
“Oh, we will hope not. But if only Tom Moran would re-appear,” sighed
Dorothy, “all her troubles would vanish in smoke.”