THE TABLES TURNED
When they arrived at the farm, after the swift run in the Mercer car,
Miss Mercer took Holmes out on the big back piazza, and Bessie and
Dolly, under the watchful eyes of Jamieson, made up for their long fast.
It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon when they reached the
dining-room, and Jamieson laughed as he saw them eat.
"You'll spoil your appetites for dinner," he said, as he saw Dolly
making away with the cold meat and bread and milk that had been provided
for them.
"I don't care!" she answered. "It couldn't taste half as good as this,
no matter what it was. But now you're not going to keep on being mean?
You'll tell us why you and Miss Eleanor are being so nice to Mr.
Holmes?"
"Not yet," he said. "But you'll know soon enough. It isn't just because
we like the pleasure of his company, I can tell you that. Mr. Holmes is
in for one of the worst surprises of his life before I get through with
him, unless I fall down pretty hard. And I don't expect to. I'll tell
you one thing, though. All you girls are going for a straw ride tonight,
and Mr. Holmes is going to be along, too. He doesn't know it yet, and he
won't know, even after we start, just where we're going."
"It's a lucky thing Miss Eleanor has taken part in amateur theatricals
sometimes," he continued. "She was half wild with anxiety about you two,
and she was ready to give you the worst scolding you ever listened to.
But I told her what I wanted her to do just in that one minute there
at the station, and she played up splendidly, so that I don't believe
Holmes suspects that we're on to him at all. She's mad with curiosity,
too, and I bet she's dying to get hold of me and make me tell her all
about it.
"Well, I've got to get ready for what's coming after dinner. Run along
upstairs, you two, and try to sleep for an hour or so."
"You won't leave us behind?" said Dolly, anxiously.
"I'd leave you in a minute, you minx, but I couldn't get Bessie without
waking you up too, I suppose, and I need her, so you'll have to come
along. If you see the other girls don't tell them what's happened. Make
them wait until tomorrow."
"All right," said Bessie. "Come along, Dolly! I _am_ tired. It will
feel good to get a little nap."
The reaction from the strain of their experiences made it easy for them
to get to sleep as soon as they were lying down, and both were still
sleepy when a knock at the door awakened them, It was quite dark, and
the moon was shining. Outside they found two wagons, one much larger
than the other, filled with straw.
"This is fine fun," said Holmes, who was standing with Miss Mercer and
Jamieson: "A regular old-fashioned straw ride, eh?"
"Well, pile in!" said Jamieson, who was acting as master of ceremonies.
"Holmes, get in there beside Miss Mercer. Bessie, you and Dolly get in
there, too. We want to keep an eye on you, so that you don't get into
any more mischief. Come on, now, all you girls get aboard the other
wagon--and off you go!"
Then he climbed aboard himself, and began to take up the song that had
already been started in the other wagon, one of the favorites of the
Camp Fire Girls. So it was a jolly party that soon passed out of the
tree-lined avenue of the Mercer farm and began driving along the road,
away from Deer Crossing.
The smaller and lighter wagon took the lead and they passed along
quietly for some time--quietly as far as incident is concerned, that
is, for there was nothing quiet about the merry, happy girls in the big
wagon. They made the night resound with their songs and laughter, and
Bessie wondered a little why she and Dolly were kept where they were,
instead of being sent with the other girls. But she said nothing, and
she knew that she would find out presently. For her and Dolly there was
a peculiar thrill in the ride, and a delightful one, too, for they knew
from what the lawyer had told them that there was a surprise preparing
for Holmes, and it was exciting to try to guess what it might turn out
to be.
Nor was the explanation very long delayed. They had driven for a mile,
perhaps, when the driver, obeying a quiet order from the lawyer, who
had taken a seat beside him, turned off the main road, and they found
themselves in a narrow lane, where there would not be room to pass
should they meet any sort of a vehicle.
"Pretty narrow quarters, Jamieson," said Holmes. "Are you sure you know
where you're going?"
"Yes, I know," said Jamieson, with a laugh. "Don't you? I thought you
knew this part of the country so well, Holmes."
"I? No, I scarcely know it at all, as a matter of fact. That's how I got
lost this morning when I took these young ladies for a drive and got
myself into their bad graces."
"My mistake! I thought you did know it."
Jamieson bent over then and spoke again to the driver, and in a moment
they made another turn, but this time into a private road. Bessie
thought she heard a startled exclamation from Holmes, but she was not
sure. Then she looked around.
"What a horrid place!" exclaimed Miss Mercer. "Look how it's been
allowed to run down. Oh, I know where we are! This is the old Tisdall
place. No one has lived here for years. That's why it looks so
neglected."
"Right!" said Jamieson. "Doesn't that house look creepy, through the
trees, with the moonlight on it? I thought this would be a fine place to
come and tell ghost stories."
This time there was no mistake about Holmes's angry exclamation.
"Look here, what do you think you're doing? What right have you to bring
this crowd in here, Jamieson?"
Charlie looked at him in surprise--a surprise that Bessie knew
instinctively was assumed.
"Oh, strictly speaking, I suppose we're trespassing," he said. "But this
has always been common property--for years, at least. The owners don't
pay any attention to the place. They won't mind our coming here, even if
they find out."
"Well, I object--"
But Holmes stifled the remark before anyone save Bessie and Jamieson
heard it. And Bessie began to understand, and to thrill with a new,
scarcely formed idea. She began to have a glimmering of Jamieson's plan,
and she saw how cleverly Holmes had been induced to walk into the trap
that had been set for him. No matter how much he knew about this
mysterious place, and how unwilling he might be to let them explore it,
whatever his reason, he could not protest now without revealing plainly
that he had been lying before. And, moreover, he could not be at all
sure that it was not pure accident that had led Jamieson to select it as
their destination.
Holmes was between two fires. If he let the ride go on, he faced
discovery of something he was trying to keep secret; if he tried to stop
it short, or to divert it to some other spot, he was sure to arouse
suspicions that, by the merest luck, as he supposed, his treatment of
Bessie and Dolly had not aroused. So he did what most people would do in
the same circumstances; he kept still, and trusted to his luck to carry
him through.
"Oh, I see," he said, finally. "You're going to stop in the grounds and
have a picnic, or something like that, eh? That's fine--that will be
great sport."
"That's what I thought," said Charlie Jamieson, innocently, but Bessie
was sure that he had winked at her.
The wagons drove up, however, to the very front of the crumbling old
house.
"Everybody out!" called Jamieson. "Here Holmes, where are you going?
Stay with us, man! The fun is just going to begin." For he had seen
Holmes trying to slip off to the back of the house, and, smiling, he had
seized the retired merchant's arm.
"Here's something I want you to hear," he said. "Eleanor, start the
girls to singing that song I like so much--that 'Wohelo for Aye' song,
you know."
In a moment the clear voices were raised in the most famous of all the
Camp Fire Songs, and Holmes, with a savage wrench, got himself free. But
it was too late. For, as the first notes rose, a window above was flung
open, and a voice that Bessie knew as well as she did her own joined in
the chorus. In a moment the singing stopped, and every pair of eyes was
turned up, to see Zara leaning from a window!
"Oh, Bessie--Miss Mercer--please take me away from here! I'm so
frightened!"
"The game's up, Holmes," said Jamieson, in a changed voice. "Did you
really think we'd take your word against those two girls you treated so
shamefully today? Come on, now, I'm not going to stand for any nonsense!
Will you take me upstairs to where you've got Zara hidden? You played a
cool game, and you thought you could get away with it because you were
so respectable. But we've got a complete case against you. It was in
your automobile that Zara was taken from Miss Mercer's house, and as
soon as you played that trick today I was sure that you had had a hand
in the game."
Holmes looked at him darkly. His face was working with anger, but he
evidently saw that the game was up, as Jamieson said.
"I guess you win--this time," he said at last, coolly enough. "But
remember, I haven't been beaten very often. And you don't know what's
back of this. If you knew when you were well off, you'd keep out of
this, Jamieson. There'd be something in it for you--"
"Don't try to bribe me," said Jamieson, with a gesture of disgust. "It's
no use. I win, as you say. There may be a next time--but I'm not afraid
of you, Holmes. Take me up there right now."
"Oh, all right," said Holmes.
And three minutes later Zara was in Bessie's arms, while Holmes looked
on, sneering.
"I'll not deny that you did a pretty clever job here," he said. "How did
you find out about this house?"
"I happened to be searching some records yesterday, and I saw, quite by
accident, the deed recording your purchase of this property," Jamieson
answered. "That didn't mean much--until I heard of the way you acted
to-day. Then, of course, I put two and two together, and decided you got
hold of this place to keep Zara hidden.
"You knew there was a good chance that we could upset that order making
old Weeks her guardian, and I knew, of course, that she hadn't been
produced in court in the other state. Pretty risky work, Holmes. Now get
out. You can stay here, of course, or you can walk to the station. There
won't be room for you with us, I'm sorry to say."
"Oh, I'm so glad to get away," Zara sobbed. "I thought it was best to
go. They told me that I wouldn't be taken back to Farmer Weeks, and that
my father wanted me to go with them. They had a note from him, and he
said he didn't quite understand but that he was sure Mr. Holmes was his
friend, and would look after me properly. And they said Bessie would be
in danger as long as I stayed with her. That is really why I went."
"But it's all right now, Zara," Eleanor Mercer said, soothingly. "We'll
look after you now, Didn't they treat you well here?"
"Oh, it was horrid, Miss Eleanor! They kept me locked up in that room,
and I never saw anyone at all, except one old woman, who was deaf, and
couldn't understand me. She brought my meals, but of course I couldn't
talk to her."
"He was afraid to trust anyone she could talk to, of course, or who
could answer questions if anyone happened to come here. That explains
why the people inside didn't pay any attention to all the noise we made
as we drove up. That was the one thing I was afraid of, and I couldn't
figure out any way to avoid that risk."
"But why did you bring Mr. Holmes along?"
"So that he wouldn't get here before we did and get her away, Eleanor.
That was why I had to make him think we swallowed that ridiculous story
of his, too. Well, Dolly, will you forgive me now for not telling you
before? Wasn't the surprise worth waiting for?"
"That--and getting Zara back. Of course it was," said Dolly happily.
"Oh, Zara, we're going to have such good times on the farm now!"
"On the farm, yes," said Jamieson, dryly. "But no straying into the
road! And you'd better see that half a dozen of them are always
together, Eleanor. Mr. Holmes isn't the sort to be content with one
licking. He'll come back for more, or else I'm mightily mistaken in
my man."
Then they all climbed into the wagons again, and how they did laugh at
the disconsolate figure of Mr. Holmes, whom they passed, trudging slowly
and unhappily toward Deer Crossing.
Jamieson looked at his watch. Then he laughed merrily.
"He'll have to wait until half past five in the morning for the milk
train to take him back to the city," he said. "I don't envy him. There
isn't much to do at Deer Crossing."
End of Project Gutenberg's The Camp Fire Girls on the Farm, by Jane L. Stewart