A CLEVER PLAN
Patty waited, thinking over the coming performance and mentally
rehearsing her part. It was not really difficult, but it was tricky,
for unless she sprang through the paper-covered hoops at just the right
moment, it would be an awkward blunder. However, after many
rehearsals, she felt pretty sure of herself, and looked forward with
pleasure to the fun.
She glanced round Ray's room. It was full of attractive odds and ends
in addition to its furniture and regular appointments, which were of
the most elaborate description. Rising, Patty examined some of the
pictures and ornaments, and became so engrossed, that the minutes flew
by unnoticed. On the dressing-table was a silver-framed clock, and a
tinkling chime rang out from it, before Patty had given a thought to
the hour. Quarter-past seven! And the performance was scheduled for
half-past eight. She had waited there for Ray nearly fifteen minutes.
It was very queer. What could have detained her?
Patty waited restlessly for five minutes longer, and then determined to
go in search of Ray. She turned the doorknob, but the door would not
open! Like a flash the explanation came to her. She was locked in!
Ray had done it, in fulfilment of her threat to "get even" with Patty.
The summons over there had been a blind, to trick her into the room,
and now she was locked in!
Patty smiled at the silly ruse. The matter couldn't be serious,--she
could certainly get out some way, and get home in time to don her
costume and get to the circus, even if a little late. Unwilling to
cause unnecessary disturbance, she looked round the room to note the
exits. There was but one other door and that led to a dressing-room,
which in turn had a door opening into a bathroom. That was all. No
more doors were to be seen. The windows had no balconies, and being on
the second floor, there was no chance of escape thereby.
Patty looked around for a telephone, but saw none. She thought such an
elaborate household would have many of them, but realised that Ray
probably had a sitting-room or boudoir in addition to these rooms and
her telephone would be there. Patty knew the girl was an only child of
doting parents, and that she was spoiled and pampered to an inordinate
degree.
Patty considered. Doubtless Mr. and Mrs. Rose were not at home, or, if
they were, they would not answer a call, for Ray would have looked
after that. The servants, likewise, must have been ordered not to
release Patty, for Ray Rose was not one to do anything by halves, and
if she had planned to get Patty over there, she had also planned to
keep her there.
It was ridiculous, it was maddening,--but it was true. Patty was
locked in a room and could not get out. She hadn't heard a key turn,
but it must have done so. Peeping in the keyhole, she could see that
the key was in the lock, from the hall side.
Endeavouring to use her ingenuity, Patty tried to turn the key from her
side by means of a button-hook, a nail file, a hairpin, and a glove
stretcher. Needless to say her attempts were unsuccessful.
"I've heard of turning a key in its own lock," she mused, but she found
the feat impossible of achievement.
Again the chiming little timepiece reminded her that another quarter
hour had flown.
"Half-past seven!" she thought. "My dear Miss Fairfield, you have got
to do something pretty quick! Get busy! What would your favourite
heroes of wild romance do to get out of such a fix as this?"
When Patty was baffled, she always talked to herself. But her appeals
to herself or her ingenuity did no good, and after a thorough search
for a means of exit, she concluded to call out. She felt it was an
undignified thing to do, and, too, she felt it would do no good, but
there was no other course to pursue, that she could see.
So she called, gently at first, and then more loudly, but, as she had
anticipated, there was no response. Going close to the door, she
called again and again, and then concluded it was useless.
She threw herself into an easy chair, thoroughly angry with Ray Rose,
and chagrined at herself for being led into such a trap.
"I might have known there was some trickery," she thought, "when that
girl called me over here at the last minute. And she was so sweet and
friendly today, it should have put me on my guard. Elise warned me,
but I never dreamed of anything like this. However, now is no time to
worry over that, I must get out,--that's what I must do, get out!"
But it seemed hopeless. The case was so simple, that there was no
opportunity for ingenious schemes. There she was, in the beautiful
room, with the only exit to the house, the hall door, securely locked.
The door was of solid mahogany, the knob and lock of a most secure
firmness. Had it been a light or flimsy door, Patty would have rattled
and shaken it, but this door was solid as a rock. Either, she would
have to think up some clever plan, and that quickly, or spend the
entire evening there in solitude. Her quick mind took in these
alternatives, and she thought that if no idea presented itself soon,
she would succumb to the inevitable, and quietly settle down for the
evening. There were pleasant-looking books about, soft couches and
pillows, convenient reading-lamps, and even a box of chocolates on a
table. Matters might be worse, thought philosophical Patty. But she
hated to give up,--to acknowledge herself beaten.
Once again she opened a window, and looked out. It was on the side of
the house, and toward the rear.
The house was not set back far from the street; indeed, the sidewalk
was not more than forty feet from the window out of which Patty leaned.
An idea came to her, and going quickly to the table she found a sheet
of paper and a pencil. There was no desk in the room, and she felt
herself lucky to find these things at all. She hastily scribbled a
note, but she made it urgent and definite. Then she looked around for
a missile which she could throw to the street. There were few things
that were available, and she finally selected a heavy hairbrush as the
best. It was of ivory and bore a bold monogram, as did the rest of
Ray's toilet appointments, but Patty took it unhesitatingly, as she had
reached the limit of her patience and consideration.
She tied the note firmly to the brush, and leaning far out of the
window, waited for a promising passer-by. At last, a young man came
along, and Patty deftly threw the brush so that it landed at his very
feet. Practice at basketball and other such sports had made her
accurate of aim and as the astonished man saw the brush, he naturally
picked it up.
Patty watched him take off the note and read it, by the light of the
street electric, and after a swift gaze at the house, he started off at
a brisk pace.
"H'm," said Patty to herself, "not so worse, Miss Fairfield, not so
worse! The axe is laid at the root of the tree!"
Glancing at the clock, she sat down to wait. It was twenty minutes to
eight, but her heart beat high with hope. If she could outwit Ray Rose
it would be great fun, and she would "pay back" the mischievous girl in
her own coin.
At ten minutes to eight, the door of the room opened a little way. A
servant of the Rose household put her head in, and said, "This woman
wishes to see you, Miss Fairfield," and Sarah, a maid from the
Farringtons', stood in the doorway.
"Come in, Sarah," said Patty. "Close that door!" she said to the Rose
servant, so peremptorily, that the order was obeyed at once.
"Quick!" whispered Patty, and Sarah tore off her long cloak and bonnet
and veil, and Patty as quickly put them on. Then she took the small
basket Sarah had brought, and standing near the door, said, in a clear
voice: "You may go now, Sarah. Tell Miss Elise not to look for me this
evening."
"Yes, Miss Patty," Sarah responded, and then, as the servant outside
opened the door, Patty slipped through, turning her face so that it
might not be seen. The Rose servant, thinking Sarah had come out,
relocked the door quickly, that the prisoner might not escape, and
Patty went demurely downstairs, and out at the back door, without let
or hindrance. Once in the street, she fairly flew to the hall where
the circus performance was to be given, for she well knew that Ray Rose
had probably already secured her dancing costume from Elise by some
plausible bit of trickery.
It was but a few moments after eight when Patty walked into the
dressing-room of the amateur performers.
"For gracious' sake, Patty, where _have_ you been?" cried Elise, who
was sitting before a mirror, making up her face. "Nobody could find
you anywhere!"
"Here I am, all right," said Patty, blithely. "Where's Ray Rose?"
"In the next room. Where's your costume? Ray came over and got it
from the house."
"Oh, she did, did she? All right."
Patty went into the next room, where several girls sat in their stage
costumes, and all with warm wraps around them. Ray Rose was completely
enveloped in a long cloak that covered her from neck to feet.
"Hello, Ray," said Patty, pleasantly; "I'll take my costume now, as I
want to get dressed in it."
If ever there was a surprised looking girl it was Ray at that moment.
She stared at Patty as at an apparition.
"Where--where did you come from?" she stammered.
"Oh, I ran over from your house. Your room is lovely, Ray, but I got
awfully tired of it. Now, you get yourself out of my skirts, and hand
them over to me. But first, you go and telephone to your household to
let Sarah, the Farringtons' maid, out of your room, where she may yet
be locked in, for all I know."
Ray looked bewildered, and Patty, whose eyes were shining with
righteous indignation, took her by the arm, and marched her to the
telephone. Patty herself called up the Rose house, and then, thrusting
the receiver into Ray's hand, said, "Give your order, and be quick
about it."
"Let the girl out of my room," said Ray, through the transmitter. "It
isn't Miss Fairfield in there now, it's one of the Farrington maids.
Let her go home."
Patty took the receiver from Ray and hung it up, and then marched her
to the dressing-room, and divested her of her long cloak.
"Why, Ray Rose!" cried Elise, "if you haven't got Patty's dress on,
yourself! What are you up to?"
"Never mind, Elise," said Patty, "help us change, there isn't much
time. Ray made a mistake."
Without a word, Ray took off Patty's voluminous tulle skirts in which
she was arrayed, and handed them over to their rightful owner. As fast
as she received them, Patty put them on, and in ten minutes, was
herself clothed in her rightful property.
Meantime Ray had no costume to wear.
"Where's your Pierrette rig?" asked Patty.
"Over home," said Ray, disconsolately.
"Go and telephone for them to send it over, if you want it," said
Patty. "Put on your long cloak, and telephone."
Ray looked at her dubiously for a moment, and then said, "No, I won't.
I'll go home and stay home,--that's what I'll do!"
"Go ahead," said Patty, blithely, who didn't feel she really owed the
girl any further consideration. "And next time you try to get even
with anybody, pick out some one who'll let you _stay_ even!"
"You're a hummer!" said Ray, in unwilling admiration. "How did you do
it?"
"I'll tell you some other time," and Patty laughed in spite of herself
at the admiration on Ray's countenance. "If you're going to get your
costume over here and get into it, you want to hustle."
"Time enough," returned Ray, carelessly. "My stunt is the sixth on the
program, so there's lots of time."
This was true, so Patty turned all her attention to reddening her pink
cheeks, while the other girls gathered around in desperate curiosity.
"What does it all mean?" asked Ethel Merritt. "Do tell us, Miss
Fairfield. Why did Ray wear your dress?"
"Ask her," said Patty, smiling. "It was a whim of hers, I guess. It
made me a little bother, but all's well that ends well."
"You are the good-naturedest old goose!" cried Elise, who had an
inkling of what was inexplicable to the others.
"Might as well," said Patty, serenely. "She's a hummer, Ray Rose is.
She sure is a hummer!"
And then Patty pronounced herself finished and turned from the mirror
for inspection.
"Lovely!" approved Elise, "if you admire strongly-marked features!"
Patty's cheeks and lips were very red, her eyebrows greatly darkened,
and her face thickly coated with powdered chalk.
"It's awful, I know," she agreed, "but in the strong lights of the
stage and the footlights too, you have to pile it on like that."
"Of course you do," said Ethel. "Mine looks the same."
Laughingly gaily, the girls went to take their places on the stage.
Bob Riggs, the ringmaster, was there and assigned them their places.
Patty's performance was near the beginning of the program. She did a
solo dance, first, a lovely fancy dance that she had learned in New
York, and then she did the grotesque and humorous dances called for by
the occasion. The one that necessitated springing, head first, through
hoops covered with light, thin paper, she did very prettily, striking
the taut paper with just the right force to snap it into a thousand
shreds.
Her act was wildly applauded by the enthusiastic audience, and would
have been several times repeated but for the scarcity of hoops.
Later came her grotesque dance with Bruin Boru, the wonderful dancing
bear. Jack Fenn was very funny in his bear-skin costume, and he pawed
and scraped as he ambled ludicrously about, and kept time to the music
with mincing steps or sprawling strides.
This number was the hit of the evening, and Ray Rose had longed to
perform it herself. But her plan fell through, and in her pretty
Pierrette costume she did a very pleasing song and dance, but her eyes
rested longingly on Patty's frilly skirts.
The last number was a chariot race. The chariots were of the low,
backless variety, peculiar to circus performances, indeed they had been
procured from a real circus.
Patty and Ethel Merritt drove two of these, and Bob Riggs and Jack Fenn
the other two.
But there was no such mad race as is sometimes seen at the real
circuses. The two men drove faster, but Patty and Ethel were content
to fall behind and bring up the rear. In fact, it was in no sense of
the word a race, but merely a picturesque drive of the gorgeous
chariots by the gay drivers.
As Patty swept round the small arena for the last time, she beckoned to
Ray Rose, who sat, a little disconsolately, near the edge of the stage
platform.
"Get in!" Patty whispered, as she slowed down, and, obeying without
question, Ray jumped from the stage, right into the chariot, which was
large enough to hold both girls.
"Grab the reins with me!" Patty cried, and Ray did, and the final
triumphant circuit was made with two laughing drivers holding the
ribbons, to the deafening applause of the hilarious audience.
Bob Riggs, from his own chariot, pronounced the entertainment over, and
then the performers and audience mingled in a gay crowd, dancing and
feasting till the small hours.
"I'm sorry," said Ray, penitently, to Patty, as soon as she had a good
chance. "I was a wretch, and you're an angel to speak to me at all."
"I am," agreed Patty, calmly. "Not one girl in a dozen would forgive
you. It was a horrid thing to do, and you ought to be ashamed of
yourself and you are. I know that. But I choose to forget the whole
affair, and I only ask you never to treat anybody else so meanly."
"I never will," promised Ray Rose. "I think you have cured me of that
childish trick of 'getting even.'"
"Yes, till next time," said Patty, laughing.