A Bold Stroke
With great difficulty Arden concentrated on her French literature.
Daudet's "My Old Mill," seemed very silly and unnecessary. Who cared
about a sleepy French town, drowsing under a provincial sun? A real
present-day mystery story would have been much more interesting and to
the point.
Twice Mademoiselle cautioned Arden to pay more attention and finally
called upon her to translate aloud. Arden arose and stumbled through two
paragraphs which she had known perfectly the night before.
"That will do, Mees Blake," drawled the gentle Frenchwoman. "Eet is
obvious you have not prepared ze assignment. You will please geeve me a
written translation, tomorrow morning, of today's work."
"Yes, mademoiselle," gulped Arden and sat down.
The events of the last few days were too much for even the conscientious
Arden. She simply could not put her mind on the lesson but sat looking as
though all that mattered in her life was the charming essay the girls
were studying. In reality, however, Arden's mind was far away from the
little mill town.
While her classmates went on with their somewhat halting translations,
Arden decided on a bold stroke. In her free period, directly after
mathematics, she would go alone over to town and hurry to the police
station. There she would inquire as to the latest developments of the
Pangborn case. If there was nothing to be learned no one would be the
wiser for her daring escapade. For escapade it was, viewed in the fact
that she was campused: forbidden to leave the precincts of Cedar Ridge.
Suddenly Arden felt something of a thrill go through her.
"I'll do it!" she exclaimed impulsively and half aloud. Then she looked
very foolish as her classmates stared wonderingly at her.
"Mees Blake, you are behaving very strangely today," said the French
teacher. "Please compose yourself."
Arden shook her head as if in compliance and smiled weakly.
"I wonder what that gardener, Anson, was talking about?" she mused. "I'm
sure he knows what strange mystery is in the orchard, anyway." Mentally
she reviewed the startling happenings since she and her chums had come to
Cedar Ridge. It was all so puzzling. On wings of thought Arden flew over
to the little stone building in town--Police Headquarters. Boldly
entering, she announced to the officer in charge her solution of the
baffling case of the missing heir and claimed the reward and then, in
triumph, presented it to the dean for the repair of the swimming pool so
Sim would remain in college.
"All a daydream, though," murmured Arden.
As the bell rang, marking the end of the French period, Arden recovered
herself with a start. Quickly gathering up her books and papers, she
hurried to her class in mathematics.
This was worse than the preceding session. Now she was absolutely unable
to concentrate in the least. Her poor brain whirled with visions of
geometric figures punctuated with policemen in the disguise of gardeners.
She flunked miserably and heard, with a sigh of relief, the ringing of
the bell for which she had waited so impatiently.
When the mathematics class was dismissed, Arden left hurriedly, for once
getting away without Sim or Terry. She took a short cut across the hockey
field and crawled through a hole in the hedge after a hasty and fearsome
glance backward to observe if anyone might be observing her.
"Not yet, anyhow," she sighed with relief.
This route brought her much nearer her destination.
Arden hastened along the peaceful main street of the suburban town still
clutching her books. In front of a two-story building of mellowed red
bricks, partly overgrown with dull green and bronzed ivy, she stopped.
Two bright green lamps on each side of the doorway were in readiness to
leap into emerald illumination of the sign POLICE HEADQUARTERS which
caught and held her attention.
"Dare I go in?" she mused.
She dared. Gathering together all her courage, she opened the heavy door,
its knob of bright brass, and entered. Inside a rather large bare room
all was serene. The dark wooden floor was scrubbed immaculately clean.
Behind a heavy desk of light oak, around which high lights played on a
glaring brass rail of heavy proportions, a man was reading a paper. Arden
could see him around one end of the desk, his two thick-soled shoes
elevated and his hands holding the paper.
"Ah--a-hem!" she coughed when, after several seconds, he did not seem
aware of her presence.
With a rustle of surprise the paper was lowered, displaying a red-faced
middle-aged man who looked considerably startled. When he noticed Arden
he lowered his feet from the desk and tried to look business-like.
"I didn't hear you come in, young lady," he began. "What can I do for
you?"
"Good-morning," Arden replied. "I didn't mean to startle you." To gain
time to think, she remarked about the beauty of the morning.
"Very nice day," agreed the chief, for it was the head of the small
country department whom Arden had intruded upon: a fact she observed when
he donned his cap, officially, and buttoned his gilt braid-encrusted
coat, which gaped wide open. He arose and stood at attention behind the
desk, smiling as he asked:
"Is there something I can do for you?"
"Well--yes. That is--you see----" Arden was quite flustered. But gaining
control of herself she began again:
"I am at school--Cedar Ridge. The college, you know."
The chief nodded helpfully, and a little look of wonder came over his
face. It was seldom he came in contact with the college girls.
"I saw a circular in the post office, across from the college," went on
Arden. "It was about a man named Harry Pangborn, who is missing and----"
"Oh, yes," interrupted the chief, very interested now. "The Pangborn
poster--the place is full of them. Missing person posters. We put them up
in public places and sometimes forget to take them down."
Arden felt something of a chill.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Are they so old, then?"
"Some are. What did you want to know?"
"That one about Harry Pangborn." Couldn't the chief have heard the name
at first?
"Yes," he answered, without much encouragement.
"It says a thousand dollars reward," Arden reminded him.
"Just a moment." He smiled at her from behind his heavy desk, a safe
breastwork, and went to a filing cabinet. Running his fingers along the
tops of a row of cards he brought out one that had a poster fastened to
it. "Is this the one?" he asked, holding it out to Arden.
"That's it!" she answered. "I'm sure I've seen that man's face somewhere
around here--in town, perhaps. Don't you know anything about him?"
"Hum! No, not much. That's rather an old and dead case. We haven't much
to go on about him. I don't think you've seen _him_. If he was around
here any place, you can be sure we'd have apprehended him and claimed the
reward ourselves."
"Oh," murmured Arden, rather dismayed. "Then you don't think there's a
chance that I might have seen him?"
"There's a bare chance, of course. But you want to make pretty sure
before you turn a man in as a person missing and for whom a reward is
offered. False arrest or detention is rather a serious charge, you know."
"Yes, I know; that is, I suppose it is."
Dispirited, Arden looked down at her dusty oxfords. Another of her
cherished plans had fallen through. She took a long breath and, looking
at the chief again, remarked:
"Well, thank you--very much. I must get back to class now." She turned to
leave.
"Just a moment!" called the chief rather sharply. "Why are you so
interested in this man?"
"Oh, of course." Arden smiled disarmingly. "Only just so I might claim
the reward if I found him and have our college pool repaired. The
swimming pool, you know. It's broken."
"Yes?" encouraged the chief.
"Yes. It seemed like a good way to get the money. A friend of mine is
awfully disappointed that she can't swim. I mean she can swim, but with
the pool broken she can't, and so I was trying to help and--and----"
Arden was at the end of her resources. She turned and fled--beat a most
undignified retreat as she told herself later. But the chief was not so
easily disposed of.
"Just a moment!" he called rather sharply, and came out from behind the
desk.
"Oh!" gasped Arden to herself. "Is he going to arrest me--detain me for
questioning just because I have asked about the poster? If he does--what
a terrible disgrace on top of what has already happened to me!"
But the chief was kindly sympathetic and soon had drawn from Arden all
the story. She told him everything, about Sim's failure, her late return,
about being campused and having to hide in the packing case. At this last
the chief could not restrain a smile.
"So that's why I wanted to find this man and claim the reward," finished
Arden. "You see?"
"Oh, yes, I see," admitted the chief, going back behind his massive desk.
"And I'm sorry. I can't help you any. We don't know where this missing
young fellow is any more than you do. But don't forget I'll always be
here if you need me, and I'll help you all I can."
Arden murmured her thanks, promised to remember, and, bidding him
good-bye, left the building. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Standing for a composing moment on the sidewalk in front of police
headquarters, Arden looked up and down the quiet street.
"Oh, my heavens!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Here comes Toots Everett!"
And indeed it was. Toots, with her hair freshly finger-waved, was walking
briskly in Arden's direction.
Without waiting to greet her, Arden cut across the street and hurried
back to the college.