DISAPPOINTMENT
Dorothy felt for a moment in the intensity of her disappointment that
she could have shaken the smiling Italian. He could look so smug, so
resigned, in the face of her own awful anxiety!
This mood lasted for only a moment, however, for she remembered that the
lad had at least tried to do her a favor. She even forced a smile to her
lips as she thanked him for his meager information.
“Have you any idea when this friend of yours will be back?” she heard
herself asking in an unnaturally calm tone.
Again the Italian shook his head helplessly, shrugged.
“I don’ know—he don’ send no word. He be back mos’ any day, though,” he
continued, brightening. “You stop around here again, eh? Maybe get
chance to see him then.”
Dorothy nodded and, after thanking him again, continued wearily on her
way.
She and Tavia must wait around then for days perhaps until an unknown
Italian recovered from some mysterious sickness—and this when every
moment was precious!
Even when this man returned to occupy his place behind the news stand
what guarantee had she that the information he had to give was worth
anything?
Probably only another false clue, leading them to a dead wall.
And meantime Joe was out in the great world somewhere, miserable and
forlorn, almost certainly at the end of his resources financially.
She groaned and was conscious that one or two passersby turned to look
at her curiously. At this she came to herself with a start and found
that she had been wandering aimlessly outside the station—was in a
section utterly strange to her.
She would have felt a trifle panicky had she not remembered that
taxicabs were plentiful and that one of them could be counted upon to
take her safely to her destination.
She hailed a cab and gave the name of her hotel. It was only a few
minutes before she was back there, had paid the taxicab driver and was
entering the crowded lobby.
She was crossing swiftly toward the elevator when a familiar figure came
within her line of vision and she saw that it was Tavia. A very much
disgruntled Tavia, she saw at second glance.
“Well, where have you been, Dorothy Dale?” asked her chum, with
asperity. “It seems that every time I turn my back you take that chance
to run off and do something exciting.”
“There was nothing exciting about my excursion this afternoon,” sighed
Dorothy. “I spent a lot of time and trouble and found out—nothing,
absolutely nothing.”
“Poor Doro,” sympathized Tavia, her manner suddenly changing to a more
gentle one. “You do look done up. Let’s have some tea and you can tell
me all about it.”
“I should go and fix up a little,” protested Dorothy. “I must look a
fright.”
“You look as sweet as the proverbial summer rose,” Tavia reassured her.
“Besides, I refuse to be cheated out of my tea. My gracious!” she
exclaimed, stopping suddenly before one of the huge pillars in the
lounge. “Look who’s here!”
On her face was a peculiar expression and Dorothy followed with interest
the direction of her gaze. Then she stiffened suddenly and her eyes
began to blaze.
Stanley Blake and Gibbons were crossing the lobby, and they were coming
directly toward the two girls.
“I don’t believe they have seen us,” whispered Tavia, who, for once,
could see the wisdom of running away. “Can’t we slip off toward the
elevators?”
“No, stay where you are!” Dorothy’s hand closed nervously on her arm.
“They have seen us. And—listen Tavia—we must try to be nice to them.”
If her chum had gone suddenly mad Tavia could not have looked any more
startled. As a matter of fact, she feared for the moment that such was
indeed the case.
Dorothy advocating that they “be nice” to a couple of cheap tricksters
who were even then conspiring against the success of the man she loved.
Impossible! Incredible!
But, impossible and incredible though it seemed, it was undoubtedly
true. The two men had come up and addressed the girls with their most
ingratiating smiles.
Dorothy, to Tavia’s intense wonder and disbelief, coaxed an answering,
and utterly adorable, smile to the corners of her mouth.
She chatted with them for several minutes while Tavia gasped inwardly
and attempted to hide her intense wonderment from the public gaze.
It was an incredulous, much mystified Tavia, who faced her chum over the
teacups a few minutes later.
“For goodness’ sake, Doro,” she cried, no longer to be restrained. “Have
you taken complete leave of your wits?”
“I hope not,” returned Dorothy, evidently enjoying her chum’s
bewilderment as she poured a cup of tea and sugared it liberally. “It
even seems that I might, with more justice, ask that question of you.”
“Well, if that isn’t adding insult to injury I’d like to know what is!”
cried Tavia indignantly. “For two cents I’d shake you soundly, Dorothy
Dale, even if this is a public place.”
“Don’t be foolish, Tavia.”
Dorothy Dale leaned forward suddenly, her eyes intent upon her chum’s
face.
“I should think it would be easy for you to guess the reason of my
apparent friendliness for those two scoundrels.”
“Easy, old thing,” warned Tavia, looking about uneasily at the crowded
tables. “’Tisn’t quite safe to call names in a crowded place. But go on
with your explanation,” she urged. “I begin to see light!”
“I wish I did,” sighed Dorothy. The momentary animation died out of her
face and the old expression of anxiety returned. “I am being decent to
those two men in the hope that I may find out something that will be of
use to Garry. All’s fair in love and war, you see. And this certainly
looks like war for Garry.”
“Well, you are a great little conspirator!” cried Tavia admiringly.
“This promises to be better than many mystery stories I have read. I can
see where we don’t have a dull minute from now on.”
“I wish I could share your optimism,” said Dorothy, and the extreme
weariness of her voice prompted Tavia to ask again where she had been
and what she had done that afternoon.
Dorothy explained. Tavia was not in the least inclined to take her
chum’s gloomy view of the situation.
“I should think you would be tickled to death to have turned up any sort
of clue, even a half dead one,” she said. “Cheer up, Doro, we’ll find
out the truth at last. Unless,” she added, with a ghost of a chuckle,
“our friend of the news stand dies of his mysterious ailment, when we
may assume that our poor little clue dies with him.”
“But meantime, while we are cooling our heels and waiting around for
this Italian to turn up, what do you suppose will be happening to Joe?”
cried Joe’s sister, with anguish in her eyes and voice. “I don’t think
of it very much, for if I did I’m afraid I couldn’t go on.”
“Well, you will go on to the end, Dorothy Dale. You always do. And I’ll
be with you,” said Tavia cheerfully. “I will even go so far as to be
nice to that villainous looking Gibbons, if you ask me to.”
“That would be a test of friendship,” protested Dorothy, with a wan
little smile. “I wouldn’t ask it of you, Tavia dear. Now, if you are
through, suppose we pay for this and go upstairs? I am very tired.”
There was nothing more to do that day, but early on the following
morning, refreshed by a delicious breakfast in the dining room, the two
girls started for the railroad station.
Dorothy had scant hope that her unknown informant would be present, but
she could afford to overlook no possible chance.
She was terribly nervous and on edge and once or twice Tavia scolded her
sharply for it. A person in Dorothy’s condition could not be handled
gently, Tavia knew, and again her treatment proved a tonic for her
friend.
Inside the station they hurried to the news stand and Dorothy’s heart
beat wildly as she saw that her young Italian was not alone behind the
counter.
At that moment the boy saw Dorothy and Tavia and his eyes brightened.
“I hope you come to-day,” he said to Dorothy. “I have news for you,
maybe.”