AN OLD ENEMY TURNS UP
Startled and frightened by Bessie's cry, Eleanor jumped up and followed
her to the window.
"Well," said Eleanor, "I never saw him before, but I can't say I'm sorry
for that. He looks mean enough to do all the things you've told us about
him, Bessie."
"Who is this Hoover? One of the people Bessie lived with, in
Hedgeville?" asked Jamieson.
"Yes; he's the son of the old farmer and his wife."
"H'm!" said the lawyer. "Then evidently he knows where she has come.
That looks bad."
"Yes. You see, he was always his mother's pet," said Eleanor, "and I
suppose he'll tell her all about the girls."
"Let him! I guess it can't do any harm. I don't see how it can now,
anyhow, unless he's in with this Weeks or someone we don't know anything
about, who has some interest in this affair. That's one of the things
that's going to give me trouble, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean, Charlie?"
"Just that there's so much I don't know. You see, there's something
mighty queer loose here. I can see that. There's a mystery and we
haven't the key. The chances are that the people we've got to fight know
everything there is to be known, while we don't even know who they are,
except this Weeks. And I'm not a bit sure about him."
"I am, Charlie. If you'd seen him, and heard all about the way he acted,
you'd know he was an enemy all right."
"That's not just what I mean, Eleanor. I'm thinking that perhaps he
isn't just making this fight on his own account; that maybe he's working
for someone else."
"I hadn't thought of that at all--"
"No reason why you should! But it's my business to think of every little
thing that may happen to have an influence on any case that I'm mixed up
in, you see. And, as I understand it, this Weeks is pretty close--pretty
fond of money, isn't he?"
"He's a regular old miser, that's what he is!" said Zara, her eyes
flashing.
"There's a motive for him, you see. Someone might have a reason for
wanting to keep Zara where they could get her easily, and if they
offered Weeks a little money to get hold of her, I judge he'd do it fast
enough."
"But why shouldn't they try to get hold of her themselves, if that's
what they want?"
"There might be lots of reasons for that. They might want to keep out of
it, so that no one would know they were doing it, you see. That would be
one reason. And then this Weeks is a bit of a politician. He's got a
good, strong pull in that county, I guess. Lots of men who have a little
money saved up can get a pull. They lend money, and then they can make
the men to whom they lend it do about as they like, by threatening to
take their land away from them if they don't pay up their mortgages as
soon as they're due. It's pretty bad business, but that's the way things
are. I'm afraid we're going to have a lot of trouble, and until I know
just what's what, I've got to do a lot of my work in the dark. But I'm
going to do my best."
"I know how Jake Hoover found I was here, I bet," said Bessie, who had
been thinking hard.
"How, Bessie?"
"Well, you know General Seeley thought I'd frightened his pheasants and
taken the eggs. And then, later, I found Jake was the one. General
Seeley didn't punish him, but let him go with a warning."
"He's too soft-hearted," commented Jamieson, angrily. "A lad like that
ought to be sent to the reformatory--proper place for him!"
"Well, anyhow," Bessie resumed, smiling at the young lawyer's vehemence,
and at the look of approval that Zara shot at him, since she had felt
just the same way about Jake, "he was turned away, and I guess he just
hung around to see what I'd do, and where I'd go. I think he'd like to
get even with me, if he could."
"He'd better behave himself if he's going to stay around here," said
Jamieson. "His mother won't be around to make people believe that he
hasn't done anything wrong, and he won't find everyone as lenient and
forgiving as General Seeley when he's caught in the act of doing
something he can be sent to jail for. Not if I've got anything to say
about it, he won't!"
"I don't believe he'll be able to stay around here very long," said
Bessie, pacifically. "It must cost him a lot of money to stay here in
the city, and I don't know how he can manage that. Maw Hoover always
gave him money whenever he wanted it, if she had it, but she never had
very much."
"That's good," said the lawyer. "We'll hope that he'll be starved out
pretty soon, and have to go home. But I guess we'd better not count very
much on that. He may find someone who's anxious enough to make trouble
for you two to pay him to stay here for a while. He'd be pretty useful,
I imagine."
"I think we're foolish to do so much guessing," said Eleanor, suddenly.
"You can know much better what to do when you've really found something
out, Charlie. Now, listen. I was thinking of letting these two go to
work for a little while before we went to the farm, so that they could
earn some money for themselves."
"Yes," said Bessie and Zara, in one breath, eagerly. "We're so anxious
to do that. We mustn't keep on living here and taking charity--"
But the lawyer shook his head vigorously.
"Not right away," he said. "It's just because I'm doing so much guessing
that we mustn't take any chances, Eleanor. You want to keep them close
to you for a while. I spoke about that before Bessie saw our young
friend Hoover, and I think so more than ever now. Don't you see that
they're being spied on already?"
"I certainly do," said Eleanor. "And I just want to do whatever is best
for them. Bessie, you mustn't think you're getting charity when you stay
here. You're here as my guests, and we love to have you--both of you."
"That's right, Bessie," said Jamieson, smiling. "She means that, or she
wouldn't say it. I can tell you you were mighty lucky when you ran into
Eleanor the way you did."
"We know that, Mr. Jamieson; we do, indeed!"
"Nonsense!" said Eleanor, flushing, but not really displeased by the
compliment, which was evidently sincere. "I believe anyone would have
done just what I did."
"I wish I had your faith in human nature, Eleanor, but I haven't and I
know that mighty few people would have been willing to do it, even if
they'd been able. You've got to remember that, too. Lots of people
couldn't have done what you did. Well, I've got to be going."
"You'll call for us tomorrow, though, won't you, Charlie, to take Zara
to see her father?"
"Yes, indeed. I won't fail you. He's looking forward to it, and I've got
an idea, or I hope, at least, that when he finds I've kept my promise
and brought Zara to see him, he'll feel more like trusting me."
"I'm sure he will when I tell him how good you've been to us, Mr.
Jamieson," said Zara.
"Better not tell him about my goodness until I've done something beside
talk, Zara. But I'm going to do my best anyhow, and I'm sure things will
come out right in the end. Just keep smiling, be cheerful, and don't
worry any more than you can help."
From the porch they watched him walk off down the street. He carried
himself like the athlete he was, and his broad shoulders and fine, free
stride were those of a man who inspires confidence and trust, even in
those who only see his back.
"Look!" said Zara, suddenly. "Why is Jake Hoover going down that way?
And isn't he acting queerly?"
"Why, I believe he's following Mr. Jamieson!" said Bessie. "See, he
keeps getting behind trees and things, and he's staying on the other
side of the street. Whenever Mr. Jamieson turns, Jake hides himself."
Eleanor frowned thoughtfully.
"I think you're right, Bessie," she said. "And I know what I'm going to
do. I'm going to telephone to his office and tell his clerk to slip out
and meet him, so that he can warn him. He ought to know about that."
She went in hurriedly to use the telephone.
"I'm going upstairs to get my handkerchief," said Zara. "My, isn't it
warm?"
So Bessie was left alone on the piazza. She was afraid of Jake Hoover;
afraid of the mischief he might do, that is. No longer was she afraid of
him as she had been in the old days on the farm, when he had bullied her
and made her the scapegoat for all the offences he could possibly load
on her slim shoulders. One night in the woods, when Bessie, wrapped in a
sheet and playing ghost, had frightened Jake and his mischievous friends
away before they could terrify the Camp Fire Girls as they lay asleep,
had taught Bessie that Jake was a coward.
"It's Zara they're after--not me," Bessie thought to herself. "I've been
out alone ever and ever so often, and there's no one here to hurt me.
I'm going to go after Jake myself, and try to see what he's up to."
At first Bessie's pursuit led her along the pleasant, tree-shaded
streets of the suburb where the Mercers lived. Bessie had never been
in the city before and all was strange to her. But here it seemed to
her that the stories she had read of crowded streets must have been
exaggerated, for she saw few people. Sometimes automobiles passed her,
and delivery wagons, and a few children were playing here and there. But
there were no high buildings, and it seemed almost as peaceful as it had
around Hedgeville.
But then gradually, as she went on, conditions changed. She crossed a
street on which there ran a street car line, and there many people were
passing. Still she managed to keep Jake Hoover in sight, and, though she
could not always see Charlie Jamieson, she supposed that Jake could, and
it was Jake she was following, after all.
More than once Jake turned and looked behind him, and Bessie had to be
constantly on her guard lest he discover her. At first it was easy
enough to escape his eye--she had only to dodge behind a tree. But as
she drew nearer and nearer to the business part of town the trees began
to disappear. There was no more green grass between the pavement and the
street itself; the pavements were narrower, and they were needed for the
crowds that passed quickly along. But in those very crowds Bessie found
a substitute for the trees. She felt that they would protect her and
cover her movements, and she increased her pace, so that she could get
nearer to Jake, and so run less risk of losing him in the crowd.
No one paid any attention to her, and that seemed strange to Bessie,
used to the curiosity of country folk regarding any stranger, although
Zara, who knew more about city life, had told her that it would be so.
She was grateful, anyhow; she wanted to be let alone. And evidently Jake
was profiting by the same indifference.
Her chase led her before long into the most thickly settled part of the
city. Trolley cars clanged past her all the time now; the center of the
street was full of vehicles of all sorts, and, as she hurried along, she
was hard put to it to keep her feet, so great was the rush and the hurry
of those with whom she shared the pavement.
Then she came to a sort of central square, where all the business of
the town seemed to be concentrated. On one side was a great building.
Outside were cabs and newsboys, and Bessie recognized it as the station
through which, with Eleanor Mercer and the rest of the Camp Fire Girls,
she had come to the city. Bessie stopped at the curb, dazed and
confused. Here she lost sight of Jake.
After her long chase, that seemed bitterly hard. Had she only known what
was coming, she would have been closer to him, but, as it was, she could
only stand on the corner, looking helplessly about, on the off chance
that she would again catch sight of his well-known figure.
But luck was not with her. Even someone far better used to the bustle
and confusion of the city might well have been at a loss. It was the
luncheon hour, and from all the buildings hundreds of people were
pouring out, making the streets seem fuller than ever. And it was not
long before Bessie decided with a sigh that she must give up, and find
her way home. She was afraid Eleanor Mercer would be worried and alarmed
by her absence, and she determined to return as she had come, and as
fast as she could.
Still, on the way, surely she could peep into one of the beautiful store
windows--and she did. For a moment she stood there, and then, suddenly,
she felt a hand in her pocket. She turned to see whose it was--and
looked up into the evil eyes of Farmer Weeks!
"Stop her!" he cried. "She picked my pocket!"