GRACE MEETS WITH A REBUFF
During the journey to Oakdale, Anne and the Southards formed the chief
topic of conversation. It was jointly agreed that Anne had been
fortunate indeed in winning the friendship of the great actor and his
charming sister.
"They treat her as though she were their own sister," remarked Eva
Allen. "They will miss her sadly when she leaves them."
"Every one misses Anne," said Miriam Nesbit. "She is so sweet and
lovable that she simply draws one's affection to her. I am frightfully
jealous of Grace."
"Yes, Grace is Anne's favorite," said Jessica. "Anne would give her life
for Grace if it were necessary."
"And Mabel Allison feels the same way toward you, Jessica," interposed
Grace.
"How I wish Mabel had been with us," sighed Jessica.
"I received a letter from Mrs. Allison, just before leaving Oakdale,"
said Mrs. Gibson. "She expects to come east in June. Mabel has set her
heart upon being here for commencement week. I shall invite the
Southards, too, and perhaps your people will lend you to me for the week
following graduation."
"We should love to go," said Grace, and her friends echoed her answer.
Before their journey ended night closed in around them. They had dinner
in the dining car, and after dinner the girls began to feel a trifle
tired and sleepy.
James Gardiner had discovered a boy friend on the train and had been
graciously granted permission by the Phi Sigma Tau to go over and
cultivate his society.
"You have been an angel, James," said Nora, "and have proved yourself
worthy of a little recreation. Don't forget to be on hand when the train
stops, however. I never saw your equal as a luggage carrier."
One by one the five girls leaned against the comfortable backs of their
seats and closed their eyes. Mrs. Gibson became absorbed in the pages of
a new book.
Grace dozed for a brief space and then opening her eyes gazed idly about
her. The seat on which she sat had been reversed in order that she and
Nora might face Mrs. Gibson and Miriam. Their seats being near to the
middle of the car, she could obtain a good view of a number of the other
passengers. She noticed that the car was very full, every seat being
occupied.
Her eye rested for a second upon a portly, well-dressed old gentleman in
the last seat of the car, who was leaning back with closed eyes, then
traveled on to the man who shared the seat.
"What a remarkable face that man has," she thought. "He looks like a
combination of a snake and a fox. I never before saw such tricky eyes.
He is rather good looking, but there is something about him that
frightens one."
Grace found herself watching, with a kind of fascination, every move
that the stranger made. Once her eyes met his and she shuddered
slightly, there was a world of refined cruelty in their depths. She
looked out of the window as the train rushed on through the darkness,
then almost against her will turned her eyes again in the direction of
the repellent stranger.
But what she saw this time caused her to stare in amazement. The
stranger under cover of a newspaper was bent on extracting the handsome
watch and chain that the elderly gentleman's open coat displayed.
Although the paper hid the movement of his hands, Grace divined by the
expression of the man's face what was taking place behind the paper
screen.
Like a flash she was out of her seat and down the aisle. But quick as
had been her movement, the thief was quicker. He straightened up, coolly
turned to his paper, looking up at her with an air of bored inquiry as
she paused before him.
Ignoring him completely, she touched the old man on the shoulder and
said in a low tone, "Please pardon me, but if you value your watch you
had better look to it. I just saw this man attempting to steal it."
The old gentleman bounded up like a rubber ball, saying excitedly, "What
do you mean, young woman?"
"Just what I say," replied Grace.
The thief gave Grace a contemptuous look, then without stirring, said
lazily, "The young lady is entirely mistaken. She must have been
dreaming."
"I repeat my accusation," said Grace firmly. "I have been watching you
for some time, and I saw you attempt it."
The old gentleman put his hand to his vest and drew out a particularly
fine old-fashioned gold watch.
"My watch is safe enough," he growled testily, "and so is my chain. Any
one who steals from me will have to be pretty smart. I guess if this man
had laid hands on my watch I'd have known it. Can't fool me."
"Certainly not," responded the tricky stranger. "If I were a thief you
would be the last person I should attempt to practice upon."
"I should say so," grumbled the old gentleman. "Young woman, you have
let your imagination run away with you. Be careful in the future or you
may get yourself into serious trouble. This gentleman has taken your
nonsense very good-naturedly."
As the two men were occupying the seat nearest the door, save for the
old gentleman's first bounce, the little scene had been so quietly
enacted that the other passengers were paying little attention to the
trio.
"You had better go back to your friends," said the man whom Grace had
accused, looking at her with cold hatred in his eyes. "That is, unless
you wish to make yourself ridiculous."
Grace turned away without speaking. There were tears of mortification in
her eyes. She had attempted to render a service and had been rudely
rebuffed. She slipped into her place beside Nora, who was dozing, and
had not missed her. Mrs. Gibson, too, had not marked her absence.
"Where were you, Grace?" said Miriam curiously. "I opened my eyes and
you were gone. What's the matter? You look ready to cry."
"I am," replied Grace. "I could cry with sheer vexation." Then she
briefly recounted what had occurred.
"What a crusty old man," sympathized Miriam. "It would serve him right
if he did lose his old watch. Where are they sitting?"
"Down the aisle on the other side at the end," directed Grace.
Miriam turned around in her seat. "He looks capable of most anything,"
she remarked after a prolonged stare at the stranger, who was apparently
absorbed in his paper. "Are you sure, however, that you were not
mistaken, Grace? You can't always judge a man by his looks."
"You can this man," asserted Grace. "He is a polite villain of the
deepest dye, and I know it."
It was after eleven o'clock when the train pulled into Oakdale. Mrs.
Gibson's chauffeur awaited them with the big touring car, in which there
was ample room for all of them.
"Keep a sharp lookout for that man," whispered Grace to Miriam. "I want
to see if Oakdale is his destination."
The two girls lagged behind the others, eagerly scanning the platform.
"I think he must have gone on," said Miriam. "I don't see him. Don't
worry any more about him, Grace."
Then she walked on ahead.
But Grace lingered. "That looks like him now," she thought. "He is just
leaving the train. He seems to be waiting for some one."
She stood in the shadow of the station watching the man. Then she saw
another man rapidly approaching. The newcomer walked straight up to the
stranger and shook hands with him. Then the two men turned and she
obtained a full-face view of them both.
Grace gave a little gasp of surprise, for the newcomer who had shaken
the hand of the crook was Henry Hammond.