DOROTHY REACHES A DECISION
Tavia made a rush for Dorothy and caught her in her arms, hugging her
hard.
“Darling Doro, see what we’ve brought you,” she cried, and drew forward
into the circle of light a sheepish and very much subdued Roger.
Dorothy sank to her knees before Roger and hugged him to her until he
grunted. This was purely physical, however, for the returned prodigal
was willing for once that his big sister should make as much fuss over
him as she wished. It was not much fun to be stuck up in a tree far away
from home and it was most awfully good to be with his family again.
Then, too, he had feared a scolding and Dorothy’s greeting was a welcome
substitute.
It was some time before they were calm enough to discuss the details of
the rescue. But when finally Nat and Tavia did describe the small boy’s
peril and rescue, Dorothy was ashamed to think how she had misjudged her
chum. She ought to have known by this time how right Tavia’s heart was
where her friends were concerned.
They had dinner then, a merry one in spite of the shadow of worry and
anxiety that still hung heavy on their minds. Despite his famished
state, Roger was so exhausted by the strenuous and exciting events of
the past few hours that he almost fell asleep in his chair and had to be
helped to bed before he had half finished his dinner.
Dorothy, looking down at his sleeping face, so dear and innocent on the
pillow, felt her eyes smart with fresh tears. Kneeling down beside the
bed, she pressed her cheek to his soft one.
“Don’t ever do a thing like that again,” she whispered. “What would Doro
do if anything happened to her Roger?”
One small arm twined about her neck and Roger half opened his eyes,
smiled sleepily.
“Roger—loves—Doro,” he murmured, and fell asleep.
On the way downstairs Dorothy stopped in the Major’s room to see how he
fared and found him also asleep. She would not disturb him now till
morning although she knew how eagerly he would grasp at the one small
item of news concerning Joe that she had to tell him.
If Joe were only there too, beneath the familiar roof, asleep—Dorothy
sighed, closed the door gently, and went on downstairs.
“Ned has just been telling us about Joe’s cap, Doro,” said Tavia, as she
entered the room. “Isn’t it marvelous? We have an honest-to-goodness
clue at last.”
“Although I can’t see where it leads us——”
“To the West, of course,” interrupted Tavia. “How dull you are, Nat.”
Nat grinned good-naturedly.
“The West is a large place, young lady,” he reminded her. “And one that
it is possible for a lad to get pretty completely lost in.”
“We will find to-morrow what town or city he bought his ticket to,” said
Dorothy. “And then we can act accordingly.”
“That sounds as if the fair Dorothy were about to get busy in earnest,”
said Tavia, with a shrewd glance at her chum. “Have you made any plans
yet, Doro?”
“Nothing definite,” Dorothy confessed. “I want to talk with Dad first.”
It was Major Dale himself who asked for Dorothy on the following
morning, and father and daughter were closeted together for the better
part of an hour.
When Dorothy at last emerged from the interview her cheeks were flushed
and her mouth determined.
Tavia, who had been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to talk to her chum,
was the first to notice this change in her.
“You look as though you were on the war path, Doro. What’s up?”
Dorothy held a finger to her lips as Ned’s voice at the telephone came
up to them.
“He’s calling Scranting,” Dorothy explained in a whisper. “Listen!”
They listened with breathless interest to Ned’s disjointed monologue.
“This Mr. Dougherty, Scranting station? Mr. Dougherty, Miss Dale and I
forgot to ask you a very important question last night—. Oh, you thought
of it too, did you?—Chicago! Where did the kid get all that
money?—Yes.—All right. Many thanks for the information.—Yes, I
will.—Thanks again. Good-bye!”
“Chicago!” repeated Tavia, whistling softly. “That city is a
considerable distance from this place, Doro. Why, what’s the matter?”
She broke off and stared at her chum wonderingly.
For, impossible as it seemed to her, Dorothy’s lips had curved suddenly
in such a smile as Tavia had not seen for days.
“Oh, nothing!” said this amazing Doro. “I was just thinking that
intuition is a wonderful thing sometimes!”
Even by persistent questioning Tavia was not able to discover the reason
for what she called Dorothy’s “Mona Lisa smile,” but she did succeed in
extracting other valuable information.
Dorothy was to follow the one clue they possessed, though it was a
slight one.
“But how on earth can you go out West all alone, Doro?” cried Tavia,
when her chum had announced her decision to the rather startled and
excited family group.
“I didn’t intend to,” returned Dorothy with assumed ingenuousness. “I
thought perhaps one, Tavia Travers, would like to go with me.”
“Good gracious, I was only scared to death for fear you wouldn’t ask
me,” Tavia confessed. “When do we start, Doro?”
“Hold your horses a minute, will you?” cried Nat. “You two girls aren’t
going on a journey like that all alone—not by a long shot!”
“O-ho! The cave man speaks!” gibed Tavia. “Who says we are not, Mr.
Smarty?”
“You really ought to stay here, Nat,” Dorothy interposed swiftly. “We
need both you and Ned here on the spot, both to take care of Dad and
follow up any new clue that may turn up.”
“Well, I like that!” exclaimed Nat, chagrined. “That’s being relegated
to the rocking chair for fair.”
“But you will do that for me, won’t you, Nat?” begged Dorothy. “Can’t
you see it’s the best way?”
“Well, no, I can’t say that I can,” confessed Nat. “But if you want it
that way, Dot, I can but oblige.”
“What are you going to do after you reach Chicago?” Mrs. White asked.
“Have you thought of that?”
“I suppose we shall have to leave our future conduct to chance,” said
Tavia flippantly, and Dorothy slowly nodded acquiescence.
“We may come up against a dead wall,” Dorothy admitted. “But there is
just a chance that we may pick up a clue there that will be useful.
Anyway, Dad thinks the chance is worth taking, and I do too.”
So it was decided that the two girls were to start for Chicago the
following day, “traveling light.”
After they had gone to their rooms that night and Tavia was brushing her
hair before the mirror, Dorothy stole in to her and whispered:
“Tavia, if I tell you a secret will you promise never to tell a soul?”