A curious sight met Ruth's gaze when she was invited to return to the
veranda.
"Goodness!" she laughed. "It is just as well I am not afraid of ghosts.
I've come upon a whole army of them all at once!"
Mrs. Cartwright had the porch darkened, except for a single row of
bright lights. Her visitors stood with their backs against the wall, a
sheet drawn up on a level with their eyes. Another white cloth covered
their heads, drawn down so low over their foreheads that even the
eyebrows were concealed. By standing on books and stools the eyes were
all on a level.
"No giggling," said Mrs. Cartwright severely to the ghostly set in front
of her, "or Ruth can guess who you are by the tones of your voices."
Ruth looked confused. No signs of her friends remained, save a long row
of shining eyes, black, blue, brown and gray, even the color being hard
to distinguish in the artificial light.
"Now, mademoiselle," said Mrs. Cartwright, still speaking in the voice
of a professor, "behold before you an opportunity to prove your skill in
the remarkable science of 'eyeology.' I have a piece of paper and a
pencil in my hand. As you gaze into each pair of eyes, you are to reveal
that person's identity. I will write the names down as you tell them to
me. When you have gone through the whole list, the curtain shall be
lifted. Then we shall discover how many of your friends you know by the
character of their eyes. After Ruth has finished, anyone else who wishes
may try his or her skill."
"My dear Mrs. Cartwright," said Ruth, laughing and peering in front of
her, "I tell you, right now, that I shall not guess a single name
correctly. To tell the truth, I never saw any of these eyes before. It's
horrid to have them all staring and blinking at me. I am frightened at
them all! Besides, I can't see. May I have a candle and hold it up in
front of each person as I pass along?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Cartwright; "only kindly keep at a safe distance. We
don't want to burn up any of our ghosts."
Ruth started down the line. She had the privilege of staring as long and
as hard as she liked into each pair of eyes.
The company was strangely silent. They were really interested in the
idea, and knew that any talking would spoil the whole experiment.
"I've mixed the babies up, Ruth," said Mrs. Cartwright, "so you needn't
think you can guess anyone by his choice of a next-door neighbor. No
social preferences have been allowed in this game."
Ruth tried the first pair of eyes. She looked at them intently. Then she
turned round to Mrs. Cartwright. "I am sure I never saw those eyes
before. You have introduced some stranger since I left the porch."
"There is not a person here whom you do not know well," Mrs. Cartwright
assured her. "Don't try to slip out of your task."
Ruth kept staring. The eyes in front of her drooped, and soft, curling
lashes for an instant swept over them. A little wistful look lay in the
depths of them, when the lids lifted. "Why, it's Molliekins! How absurd
of me not to know her! I was about to guess Ralph!"
Mistress Ruth must have guessed wrongly next time, for there was a burst
of laughter, afterwards, that made the white sheets shake.
"Be quiet," warned Mrs. Cartwright sternly.
So Ruth passed on down the line. There were about twenty people in the
game, but Ruth knew all of them very well. Sometimes her guesses were
right, sometimes they were wrong. Once or twice she had to confess
herself beaten, and "gave up" with a shake of her head at Mrs.
Cartwright.
Ruth had nearly finished her task. Only a few more pairs of eyes
remained to be investigated.
"Well, I am nearly through," she said gayly. "If anyone thinks I have
had an easy time of it, he has only to take my place and try the next
turn. No more mistakes now, for Ruth Stuart! Who is my next victim?"
Ruth held her candle above her head and looked up.
Gleaming at her through the darkness lit by the flare from her
candle-light was a pair of eyes that were strangely familiar.
Ruth stared at them. They belonged to none of the friends she knew--yet,
somewhere, she had seen them before.
Ruth looked and looked. The eyes shifted and narrowed. Ruth still held
her candle aloft; but she had forgotten where she was. Where had she
seen those eyes before?
"Look straight ahead of you," said Mrs. Cartwright to the gleaming eyes,
"how can Ruth guess when your eyes are closed?" But again the eyes
shifted.
"I am going to find out to whom those eyes belong, if I stay here all
night," said Ruth, speaking to herself.
The eyes glinted, narrowed and shone like two fine points of steel.
"Oh!" said Ruth. She staggered a little and the candle shook in her
hand. "I thought I knew those eyes, but I don't. I must be mistaken. I
beg your pardon, Mrs. Cartwright," said Ruth, "but I am tired. I don't
think I can go on. Will some one take my place?"
Ruth's expression was so peculiar that Mrs. Cartwright came up to her.
"You foolish child!" she said, putting her hand on Ruth's shoulder, "I
believe this game is making you nervous. Who is it sitting there with
the eyes that Ruth remembers, yet will not reveal to us?" she called.
"Harry Townsend, Harry Townsend!" the people sitting closest to him
answered.
"Harry," said Mrs. Cartwright, "you come and take Ruth's place. Let's
see if you are a better 'eyeologist' than she is."
Before Harry Townsend had slipped out from under his strange covering,
Ruth turned to Mrs. Cartwright. "Excuse me for a minute," she begged.
"My labors as an optician have used me up. I will be back in a little
while."
Barbara crept from under the sheet, and, without speaking to anyone, ran
after Ruth, who was on her way upstairs to Mrs. Cartwright's boudoir.
"Ruth, dear, what on earth has happened to you? Are you sick?" asked
Barbara.
"Oh, I am worse than sick, Bab!" muttered Ruth, with a shudder. "Don't
ask me to talk until we get upstairs."
The girls closed the dressing-room door.
"I must be wrong, Bab, yet I don't believe I am. I saw to-night the same
eyes that glared at us from behind a black mask the time of that
horrible burglary at New Haven, when, for a little while, I thought you
were killed. I have never said much about it. I wanted to forget and I
wanted everyone else to forget it, but those eyes have followed me
everywhere since. To-night----"
Bab took Ruth's hand.
"Oh, Bab," groaned Ruth, "what does it mean? I saw those eyes again
to-night and they were Harry Townsend's. I wanted to scream right out:
'Burglar! robber!' But I could not make a scene. I came upstairs, hardly
knowing how I reached here."
One of the maids knocked at the door. "Do the young ladies wish
anything? Mrs. Cartwright sent me up to inquire," she said.
"Nothing at all. Tell her we are all right, and will be down in a few
minutes."
"Ruth," said Barbara, "I want to tell you something. If I do, can you
pretend that nothing has happened, and be perfectly composed for the
rest of the evening? Now don't say 'yes' unless you feel sure."
Ruth looked straight at Barbara, "Yes; tell me what it is," she urged.
"I am beginning to guess."
"The eyes you saw to-night were Harry Townsend's, and he is a burglar
and a thief. I did not know he was the robber at New Haven; I have only
suspected it. Now I feel sure, and you recognized him to-night. He is a
more dangerous character than I had thought, and he must not know that
you suspect him."
"He shall know nothing from me," said Ruth, coolly. Her color had come
back, now that she knew the truth. "It was only the shock that unnerved
me. Why haven't you told me before, Bab?"
"I was afraid you'd ask me that, Ruth, dear, and I want to explain. You
see, I have believed Harry Townsend a thief ever since I saw him, with
my own eyes, take the necklace from Mrs. Post's neck at Mrs. Erwin's
ball; but you were positive I was wrong, and asked me not to talk about
it. So I didn't know what to do. I have only watched and waited.
To-night I told Ralph what I knew."
Barbara then explained to Ruth the whole story, and the part the
detectives had asked her to play in Townsend's apprehension. "What shall
I do, Ruth?" she ended.
"Come on downstairs, Bab," said Ruth. "Some one may suspect us if we
don't. Do, Bab. We are going on to play the game, just as you have been
playing it by yourself. We will say nothing, but we will do some hard
thinking; and, when the time comes, we shall act! To tell you the truth,
if you will never betray me to Aunt Sallie, I think playing detective
beats nearly any fun I know."
"Eyeology" was no longer amusing the guests when the two girls came
downstairs; indeed, the company had scattered and was talking in
separate groups. Ruth and Bab joined Mollie and Grace, who were standing
near Mrs. Post and their new acquaintance, the Countess Bertouche.
"Girls," asked Mrs. Post, "would you like to join the Countess Bertouche
and myself Saturday afternoon? We are going to explore old Newport; the
old town is well worth seeing. The countess tells me this is her first
visit to Newport, so, before she goes back to Paris, I want her to see
that we have a little of the dignity that age gives.
"Why," and Mrs. Post turned smilingly to the little group, "Newport
boasts even a haunted house! It is not occupied, and I have the
privilege of showing you over it. A story has been written about the old
mansion. Here a young woman lived who loved an officer in Rochambeau's
fleet, when the gallant French sailor came over to these shores. But the
sailor loved and sailed away, never to return. So the lady pined and
died; but her presence still haunts the old house. You can feel her
approaching you by a sudden perfume of mignonette. After we see all the
sights of the town, we shall go to the old house at about dusk, so that
we may have a better chance to discover the 'spirit lady.'"
Mollie and Grace accepted Mrs. Post's invitation with enthusiasm.
Barbara and Ruth had to decline regretfully.
"You see, Mrs. Post," Barbara explained, "Ruth and Hugh have to practice
their tennis, every hour they can manage, until the tournament on
Monday. Ruth has become a little out of practice since her accident, and
must work hard at her game for the next few days. Ralph and I have
promised to help by furnishing the opposition."
"You'll excuse Mollie and me from playing audience, won't you, Ruth?"
asked Grace. "We are going home so soon after the tournament is over
that we can't resist Mrs. Post's invitation."
"Barbara," said Ruth, coming into Bab's room, just as that young woman
was about to step into bed, "can you imagine anyone whom Harry Townsend
can be using as a confederate?"
"Sh-sh!" warned Bab. "Here comes Mollie. Don't say anything. I haven't
the faintest idea."