A Dire Threat
"If Jessica Darglan tells where she saw us," said Terry, next morning,
"we're sunk!"
"She won't. Nobody could be so mean," remarked Arden as she combed her
hair in front of the bureau.
"You never can tell, Arden," supplemented Sim. "Some people take a
positive delight in doing things like that."
"There's nothing we can do about it, even if she does. So we won't worry
until we get a notice to go see Tiddy," decided Terry.
"I meant to ask you after supper last night," began Arden, "did you two
think any more about what Henny was saying to Tom Scott as we came
along?"
"I didn't pay much attention," confessed Sim. "I was too busy being
demure."
"Well," went on Arden, "he said something about it being dangerous and
asked Tom Scott how long he was going to keep it up."
"Sort of funny," admitted Terry. "That's the second time we have heard
those two talking together. I wonder what it all means?"
"It doesn't worry me much," declared Sim as she pulled on her stockings.
"Because I think I'll go home the way I planned in a few days. I'll leave
before I'm expelled for going out while campused."
"Oh, Sim! Do we have to go over all that again?" pleaded Arden. "Can't
you stick it out? If we have to be expelled, let's all go home together."
"Don't go, Sim," begged Terry. "We're just beginning to enjoy it here.
You know, deep down in your heart, that last night in the station was
fun, even if it was uncomfortable."
"I'll talk about it later," answered Sim. "I have an early class this
morning. See you when I get back." She gathered up her books, gave a last
look in the glass, and hurried down to breakfast without waiting for her
friends.
Back in 513, Arden and Terry went on with their dressing. If Sim felt
like being alone, it was wise to let her go. They would see her at
breakfast, anyhow.
But at the table Sim devoted herself to Jane Randall and seemed
deliberately to be avoiding her roommates. For, as she finished her meal,
Sim linked arms with Jane and started for Bordmust Hall, leaving Terry
and Arden by themselves.
"Sim is in one of her moods," remarked Arden as she swung along beside
Terry. "But she'll forget all about it by lunch time."
"I think she's awfully disappointed about the pool. And being campused,
while it doesn't make a great deal of difference, just rubs Sim the wrong
way. She hates to feel that she is being persecuted," observed Terry.
"It doesn't bother me a bit," declared Arden. "I'm keeping occupied by
trying to straighten out this mystery and get the reward money."
"You have an even disposition," suggested Terry. "We are not all as lucky
as you."
Terry sighed deeply and shifted her books from her right arm to her left.
Arden and she trudged silently along up the hill to Bordmust Hall.
The fog of the night before had blown away, and the distant hills
shimmered in a soft blue light. The leaves were beginning to fall, and at
the steps of Bordmust the head gardener, Anson Yaeger, was raking the
lawn with sullen viciousness.
As the girls reached him he stopped moving the rake and looked at them
penetratingly. His little beady eyes narrowed into bright slits. Resting
part of his weight on the rake he shook a grimy finger at the freshmen.
"You're two of them girls I seen down in my orchard!" he snarled. "You've
no right there! Mark my words, no good will come of it! And don't concern
yourselves with what's none of your business. There's things going on
around here that nobody knows about but me. I wouldn't like to see you
hurt, foolish as you are!"
Terry and Arden stood dumbfounded. Completely taken by surprise, they
moved on past the surly gardener and involuntarily looked back at him
without attempting to answer him.
The heavy, thickset man in tattered overalls and an old-fashioned, gray
coat-sweater looked over his shoulder with wild eyes, as though expecting
someone to come along and stop his tirade.
"If I was to tell you all I know," he went on, "what with alarm bells
ringing and all, you'd pack up and take the next train home. Why, last
night----"
Terry nudged Arden, murmuring:
"Don't let's stand here like a couple of ninnies and let him talk to us
this way. Come on! I think he's a little crazy!"
Arden pulled away from Terry. "But I want to hear what he's saying."
Anson heard them whispering.
"Heedless young things!" he scolded. "You'll be sorry if you don't do as
I say." Turning abruptly, he picked up the rake that had slipped to the
ground and shuffled off through the rustling leaves in the direction of
the orchard.
"There, you see!" exclaimed Arden. "I told you there was something weird
down in that old orchard!"
"I've a good mind to follow him and see where he's going," said Terry.
"What do you say, Arden, to a little more sleuthing?"
"I'm game," Arden answered. But even as she spoke the electric bell in
Bordmust Hall announced the beginning of the first classes.
"We can't go now," said Terry. "We'll have to let it wait."
"Yes," agreed Arden reluctantly.
The two girls entered the building, having a last glimpse of the
mysterious gardener still shuffling his way through the rustling leaves
toward the orchard where so many strange things had happened.