THE SEARCH
"We're in for it," whispered Tweedle-dee to Tweedle-dum, as the two
comical figures drew unobtrusively into the rear of the group of girls
now removing their masks under Mrs. Bonnell's half-amused, half-serious
eyes, for she began to suspect that some sort of innocent prank had been
played which, like many another would have harmlessly played itself out
if let alone. She had always been opposed to the rigorous ban placed upon
boys and their visits to Leslie Manor by Miss Woodhull, believing and
justifiably too, that such arbitrary rules only led to a livelier desire
in the girls to meet said boys by hook or by crook.
"Hush!" whispered Tweedle-dum "and come behind this rubber plant. Now get
down on your hands and knees and follow me."
Tweedle-dee promptly obeyed orders and the next moment was in front of
the spiral stairway which led to the gallery.
"Make yourself as small as possible and crawl on your _stomach_ up this
staircase. At the other end of the gallery is a door leading into our
wing. I can't tell you another thing. Just use your wits," and
Tweedle-dum flitted back to be swallowed up in the crowd of girls who,
once more restored to an equable frame of mind were laughing merrily,
everyone asking everyone else if she knew who the Jack o' Lantern really
was. This very fact was sufficient reassurance for Mrs. Bonnell. She knew
girls better than Miss Woodhull knew them in spite of having _known
nothing_ else for more than forty years, but she resolved then and there
not to ask too many questions, which fact made two girls her slaves for
life. The discipline department was not her province nor was it one which
anything could have induced her to undertake. If Will-o'-the-Wisp was
aware of the name of her partner in the quartette hornpipe, or
Tweedle-dum knew Tweedle-dee's surname Miss Woodhull was the one to find
it out, not she. So smiling upon the group before her she asked:
"Are you now all visible to the naked eye and all accounted for? If so,
let us to the feast, for time is speeding." No urging was needed and lots
were promptly drawn for the privilege of cutting the fate cake. Mrs.
Bonnell had not considered it necessary to mention the fact that she had
ordered Aunt Sally, the cook, to bake one for the occasion, and while
good fellowship and hilarity reign below let us follow two less fortunate
mortals whom the witches seemed to have marked for their sport that
night.
Agreeable with Miss Woodhull's orders, Miss Baylis, who was only too
delighted to shine so advantageously in her superior's eyes, had scuttled
away, issuing as she went, the order to close _all_ outer doors and guard
them, allowing no one to pass through. Guileless souls both hers and Miss
Woodhull's, though another adjective might possibly be more apt. The
house had a few windows as well as doors.
Meeting Miss Stetson on the stairs she found in her a militant coadjutor,
and wireless could not have flashed the orders more quickly. Servants
went a-running until one might have suspected the presence of a criminal
in Leslie Manor rather than a mere boy.
Meanwhile, what of Jack o' Lantern and Tweedle-dee? Jack, it must be
admitted, had the greater advantage in having made a quicker get-away,
but Leslie Manor had many bewildering turns and corners, and when one has
been an inmate of a house less than--well, we won't specify the length of
time--one cannot be blamed for growing confused. Jack had made for the
very door Tweedle-dum had advised Tweedle-dee to make for and darted
through it muttering as he paused a second to listen: "Gee, I wish I
wasn't so confoundedly long legged!"
No sound coming to his ears from any of the rooms opening upon the
corridor into which he had darted, he sprinted down its length until it
terminated suddenly in a flight of stairs leading to the lower hall. He
had descended about half way when a babel of voices sent him scuttling
back again, and a moment later a voice commanded.
"Wesley, hurry up to the south wing. Whoever is in the house certainly
tried to make an escape from that quarter."
"Yas'm. I catches 'em ef dey 're up dar," blustered Wesley Watts Mather,
hurrying up the stairs and almost whistling to keep his courage up, for
your true darkie finds All Saint's Night an awesome one, and not to be
regarded lightly. Moreover, nearly all the electric lights were turned
off, only those necessary to light the halls being left on, and this fact
made the rooms seem the darker.
Now Jack o' Lantern's costume, like Will-o'-the-Wisp's, had been
liberally daubed with phosphorus and he still grasped the electric
flash-light which had illuminated his shattered pumpkin. There was no
time to stand upon ceremony for Wesley was almost at the top of the
stairs. A door stood open at hand and he darted through it into the room,
overturning a chair in the darkness.
"Hi, you! I done got you!" shouted his dusky pursuer and burst into the
room in hot chase. The next instant the exaltant shout changed to a howl
of terror, for in the middle of that room stood a towering motionless
figure from which radiated sheets of lightning, one blinding flash
darting straight into the terrified darkie's eyes. "A flash ob lightenin'
what cl'ar par'lyzed me an' helt ma feet fast to de floo'! Den, befo' I
could get 'em loosen' dat hant jist lif' his hoof--yas ma'am, dat was a
hoof, not no man's foot--an' I 'clar cross ma heart he done hist me froo
dat do' an' cl'ar down dem stairs. He want no _man_. He de debbil hissef.
No siree, yo' ain' gettin' me back up _dem_ stairs twell some white folks
gwine _fust_. Not _me_. I knows when ter lie low, I does." (Goal kicking
develops a fellow's muscles.)
Nor could any amount of urging or scolding prevail, and Miss Stetson, the
strong-minded, was obliged to go up to investigate. But though every room
was searched there was no sign of mortal being. All the window sashes in
Leslie Manor had been rehung in the most approved modern methods and
could be raised and lowered without a sound. A porch roof and a slender
column are quite as available as flying rings to a born acrobat.
As she was returning from her fruitless search she encountered Miss
Woodhull.
"Well?" queried that lady.
"It is _not_ well. If there really was any one in that wing, which I am
compelled to doubt, he has made a most amazing escape."
"Doubt?" repeated Miss Woodhull with no little asperity. "You will hardly
doubt the evidence of my own eyesight, will you Miss Stetson? I _saw_
that person cross the gallery and enter the south wing. Be good enough to
go down to the gymnasium and call the roll. I desire to know if all the
girls are accounted for."
To judge by Miss Stetson's expression she was none too well pleased by
the principal's tone. Nevertheless, she repaired to the gym and ignoring
Mrs. Bonnell's assurance that no girls were missing proceeded to call the
roll. Of course all responded.
Meanwhile, Miss Woodhull had summoned Jefferson, who if no less
superstitious, was backed up by her august presence, and together they
mounted the stairs and made a room-to-room inspection, peering into every
closet or any possible hiding place. Not a sign of human being was found
until they came to the study of Suite 10, then a faint sound was audible
in bedroom A beyond.
Quicker than it would seem possible for a person of her proportions to
move, Miss Woodhull entered the study, reached the electric switch and
turned on the lights, calling at the same moment:
"Who is in that room?"
There was no reply, and the irate lady, speedily covering the distance
between the electric switch and the bedroom door, turned on the light in
that room also.
There stood Tweedle-dee.
He had removed his mask and was about to don a long gray automobile coat.
"What are you doing here, Beverly, when I gave explicit orders that no
one should leave the gymnasium?" demanded Miss Woodhull, frowning
portentously upon the delinquent.
"My costume is so thin I was cold. I came up after my coat, Miss
Woodhull," was the smiling answer, spoken quite softly enough to turn
away wrath.
"You came in direct disobedience to my orders? You may now remain here
for the rest of the evening."
"Oh please, Miss Woodhull, let me go back. They are to have a reel,"
begged her victim.
"No, I have spoken. You will remain in your room."
Without more ado the defrauded one hurled herself into the middle of the
bed, buried her head in the immaculate pillows and burst into a paroxysm
of sobs.
"You have brought this upon yourself. Had you obeyed me there would have
been no occasion for this punishment."
"I was freezing! I just won't stay stived up here while all the girls are
having such fun in the gym. It isn't fair. I haven't done a single thing
but get this coat," was sobbed from the bed, as a vigorous kick sent the
eiderdown cover flying almost in Miss Woodhull's face. A little more
energy would have compassed it.
Miss Woodhull deigned no reply, but turning swept from the room locking
the door behind her. She could deal summarily with rebellious pupils.
Then the search was resumed under her eagle eye, but without results. Not
a creature was to be found, and dismissing her followers she returned to
the gym to get Miss Stetson's report.
"Are _all_ the older pupils present?" she asked.
"They are," replied Miss Stetson somewhat icily.
"Excepting Beverly Ashby, of course."
"Beverly Ashby is here. She is standing in the group near the table,"
corrected Miss Stetson with some satisfaction.
"Impossible. I have just this moment locked her in her room for
disobedience and insolence. You are mistaken."
"Hardly, as you may convince yourself by merely looking."
Miss Woodhull did look and for a moment felt as though caught in the
spell of that mystic night. Beverly Ashby stood laughing and talking with
Sally Conant, Aileen and Mrs. Bonnell, as merry a little Tweedle-dum as
one could picture. Miss Woodhull caught her eye and motioned her to
approach.
"Ye gods and little fishes," whispered Beverly to Sally as she left the
group and went toward Miss Woodhull. That lady's expression was most
forbidding.
"Why are you here?" she demanded icily.
Beverly looked at her innocently as she answered: "I don't think I quite
understand you, Miss Woodhull."
"Not understand me? Is your intellect impaired? Did I not order you to
remain in your room for the remainder of this evening?"
"No, Miss Woodhull."
Miss Woodhull turned crimson. Such barefaced audacity was unheard of.
"How did you manage to leave the room, may I inquire?"
"I have not left the room since I entered it at eight o'clock, Miss
Woodhull."
"Mrs. Bonnell," called the now thoroughly exasperated principal, "did you
see Beverly Ashby return to this gymnasium less than ten minutes ago?"
"Beverly has not been _out_ of it, Miss Woodhull. She has been enjoying
her refreshments with the other pupils."
"Ridiculous! Miss Stetson, perhaps _you_ have a clearer idea of facts
since I requested you to return to the gymnasium and call the roll. Was
Beverly present when you did so?"
"She was standing not ten feet from me, Miss Woodhull. Of this I am
positive, because her cap fell from her head as she replied and delayed
the response of the girl next on the roll, who stopped to pick it up."
"I believe you are all irresponsible! These silly Hallowe'en customs have
turned your heads. I have never approved such inane proceedings. Why you
may as well try to convince me that I, myself, did not enter Suite 10,
and that I did not speak to Beverly Ashby in it not ten minutes ago, and
leave her there in the middle of her bed weeping and conducting herself
like a spoiled child because she could not participate in the closing
Virginia Reel. Utter nonsense! Utter nonsense! But we will have no more
hoodwinking, rest assured. There has been quite enough already. You may
all go to your rooms reels or no reels. I have experienced enough folly
for one night--if not much worse."
For a second there was profound silence, then a general cry of protest
arose. To be defrauded of their Virginia Reel for no justifiable reason,
and sent to bed before ten o'clock like a lot of naughty children when
they really had not done a single thing, was too much.
Petty wept openly. Petty's griefs, sorrow or joys could invariably find
prompt relief in tears or giggles. She existed in a perpetual state of
emotion of some sort.
Aileen murmured:
"Look at Miss Stetson's face. She doesn't know whether to frown or smile.
She will lose her reason presently."
"Oh, why need the Empress have come in at all. We were having such fun
and--" Sally paused significantly.
Beverly nodded a quick comprehension of what the conclusion of Sally's
sentence would have been, and said, under cover of the babel of voices,
for even the Empress, stalking along ahead of her rebellious ones could
not entirely subdue their protests:
"And I am wondering what we shall find up in Number 10, and especially in
bedroom A." And in spite of those possibilities she laughed softly.
"And not a single mouthful of that delicious spread after those ten
miles. I call it a perfect outrage," muttered Sally like a distant
thunder-storm.
Beverly flashed one quizzical, tantalizing glance at her. "Don't let
_that_ worry you," she said.
"What?" whispered Sally eagerly.
"Hush. Listen to the Empress. Oh, isn't this the richest you ever heard?"