NO FALSE PRETENSES
A private secretary, and only one way out! If the girl had been kind
enough to stand her ground with him he would not have cared so much.
But there she was vanishing beyond the door. There was a suggestion of
feline cruelty in thus abandoning him. He dared not call her back.
What the devil should he say to the admiral? There was one thing he
knew absolutely nothing about, and this was the duties of a private
secretary to a retired admiral who had riches, a yacht, a hobby, and a
beautiful, though impulsive daughter. His thought became irrelevant,
as is frequent when one faces a crisis, humorous or tragic; here indeed
was the coveted opportunity to study at close range the habits of a man
who spent less than his income.
"Come, come; draw up your chair, Mr. Fitzgerald."
"I beg your pardon; I--that is, I was looking at those flags, sir,"
stuttered the self-made victim of circumstances.
"Oh, those? Good examples of their kind; early part of the nineteenth
century. Picked them up one cruise in the Indies. That faded one
belonged to Morgan, the bloodthirsty ruffian. I've always regretted
that I wasn't born a hundred years ago. Think of bottling them up in a
shallow channel and raking 'em fore and aft!" With a bang of his fist
on the desk, setting the ink-wells rattling like old bones, "That would
have been sport!"
The keen, blue, sailor's eye seemed to bore right through Fitzgerald,
who thought the best thing he could do was to sit down at once, which
he did. The ticket agent had said that the admiral was of a quiet
pattern, but this start wasn't much like it. The fire in the blue eyes
suddenly gave way to a twinkle, and the old man laughed.
"Did I frighten you, Mr. Fitzgerald?"
"Not exactly."
"Well, every secretary I've had has expected to see a red-nosed,
swearing, peg-legged sailor; so I thought I'd soften the blow for you.
Don't worry. Sailor?"
"Not in the technical sense," answered Fitzgerald, warming. "I know a
stanchion from an anchor and a rope from a smoke-stack. But as for
travel, I believe that I have crossed all the high and middle seas."
"Sounds good. Australia, East Indies, China, the Antilles, Gulf, and
the South Atlantic?"
"Yes; round the Horn, too, and East Africa." Fitzgerald remembered his
instructions and spoke clearly.
"Well, well; you are a find. In what capacity have you taken these
voyages?"
Here was the young man's opportunity. This was a likeable old sea-dog,
and he determined not to impose upon him another moment. Some men, for
the sake of the adventure, would have left the truth to be found out
later, to the disillusion of all concerned. The abrupt manner in which
Miss Killigrew had abandoned him merited some revenge.
"Admiral, I'm afraid there has been a mistake, and before we go any
further I'll be glad to explain. I'm not a private secretary and never
have been one. I should be less familiar with the work than a
Chinaman. I am a special writer for the magazines, and have been at
odd times a war correspondent." And then he went on to describe the
little comedy of the statuettes, and it was not without some charm in
the telling.
Plainly the admiral was nonplussed. That girl; that minx, with her
innocent eyes and placid face! He got up, and Fitzgerald awaited the
explosion. His expectancy missed fire. The admiral exploded, but with
laughter.
"I beg pardon, Mr. Fitzgerald, and I beg it again on my daughter's
behalf. What would you do in my place?"
"Show me the door at once and have done with it."
"I'm hanged if I do! You shall have a toddy for your pains, and, by
cracky, Laura shall mix it." He pushed the butler's bell. "Tell Miss
Laura that I wish to see her at once."
"Very well, sir."
She appeared shortly. If Fitzgerald admired her beauty he yet more
admired her perfect poise and unconcern. Many another woman would have
evinced some embarrassment. Not she.
"Laura, what's the meaning of this hoax?" the admiral demanded sternly.
"Mr. Fitzgerald tells me that he had no idea you were hiring him as my
secretary."
"I am sure he hadn't the slightest." The look she sent Fitzgerald was
full of approval. "He hadn't any idea at all save that I asked him to
come here at eight this evening. And his confession proves that I
haven't made any mistake."
"But what in thunder--"
"Father!"
"My dear, give me credit for resisting the desire to make the term
stronger. Mr. Fitzgerald's joke, I take it, bothered no one. Yours
has put him in a peculiar embarrassment. What does it mean? You went
to the city to get me a first-class secretary."
"Mr. Fitzgerald has the making of one, I believe."
"But on your word I sent a capable man away half an hour gone. He
could speak half a dozen languages."
"Mr. Fitzgerald is, perhaps, as efficient."
Fitzgerald's wonder grew and grew.
"But he doesn't want to be a secretary. He doesn't know anything about
the work. And I haven't got the time to teach him, even if he wanted
the place."
"Father," began the girl, the fun leaving her eyes and her lips
becoming grave, "I do not like the noises at night. I have not
suggested the police, because robbery is _not_ the motive."
"Laura, that's all tommyrot. This is an old house, and the wood always
creaks with a change of temperature. But this doesn't seem to touch
Mr. Fitzgerald."
The girl shrugged.
"Well, I'm glad I told that German chap not to leave till he heard
again from me. I'll hire him. He looks like a man who wouldn't let
noises worry him. You will find your noises are entirely those of
imagination."
"Have it that way," she agreed patiently.
"But here's Mr. Fitzgerald still," said the admiral pointedly.
"Not long ago you said to me that if ever I saw the son of David
Fitzgerald to bring him home. Till yesterday I never saw him; only
then because Mrs. Coldfield pointed him out and wondered what he was
doing with a tray of statuettes around his neck. As I could not invite
him to come home with me, I did the next best thing; I invited him to
call on me. I was told that he was fond of adventures, so I gave the
invitation as much color as I could. Do I stand pardoned?"
"Indeed you do!" cried Fitzgerald. So this was the Killigrew his
father had known?
"David Fitzgerald, your father? That makes all the difference in the
world." The admiral thrust out a hand. "Your father wasn't a good
business man, nor was he in the navy, but he could draw charts of the
Atlantic coast with his eyes shut. Laura, you get the whisky and sugar
and hot water. You haven't brought me a secretary, but you have
brought under my roof the son of an old friend."
She laughed. It was rich and free-toned laughter, good for any man to
hear. As she went to prepare the toddy, the music echoed again through
the hall.
"Sometimes I wake up in the morning with a new gray hair," sighed the
admiral. "What would you do with a girl like that?"
"I'd hang on to her as long as I could," earnestly.
"I shall," grimly. "Your father and I were old friends. There wasn't
a yacht on these waters that could show him her heels, not even my own.
You don't mean to tell me you're no yachtsman! Why, it ought to be in
the blood."
"Oh, I can handle small craft, but I don't know much about the
engine-room. What time does the next train return to New York?"
"For you there'll be no train under a week. You're going to stay here,
since you've been the victim of a hoax."
"Disabuse your mind there, sir. I don't know when I've enjoyed
anything so thoroughly."
"But you'll stay? Oh, yes!" as Fitzgerald shook his head. "The
secretary can do the work here while you and I can take care of the
rats in the hold. Laura's just imagining things, but we'll humor her.
If there's any trouble with the chimney, why, we'll get a bricklayer
and pull it down."
"Miss Killigrew may have some real cause for alarm. I saw a man, or
rather, I heard him, running, as I came up the road from the gates. I
called to him, but he did not answer."
"Is that so? Wasn't the porter at the gates when you came in?"
"No. The footpath was free."
"This begins to look serious. If the porter isn't there the gate bell
rings, I can open it myself by wire. I never bother about it at night,
unless I am expecting some one. But in the daytime I can see from here
whether or not I wish to open the gate. A man running in the park, eh?
Little good it will do him. The house is a network of burglar alarms."
"Wires can be cut and quickly repaired."
"But this is no house to rob. All my valuables, excepting these books,
are in New York. The average burglar isn't of a literary turn of mind.
Still, if Laura has really heard something, all the more reason why you
should make us a visit. Wait a moment. I've an idea." The admiral
set the burglar alarm and tried it. The expression on his face was
blank. "Am I getting deafer?"
"No bell rang," said Fitzgerald quickly.
"By cracky, if Laura is right! But not a word to her, mind. When she
goes up-stairs we'll take a trip into the cellar and have a look at the
main wire. You've got to stay; that's all there is about it. This is
serious. I hadn't tested the wires in a week."
"Perhaps it's only a fuse."
"We can soon find out about that. Sh! Not a word to her!"
She entered with a tray and two steaming toddies, as graceful a being
as Hebe before she spilled the precious drop. The two men could not
keep their eyes off her, the one with loving possession, the other with
admiration not wholly free from unrest. The daring manner in which she
had lured him here would never be forgetable. And she had known him at
the start? And that merry Mrs. Coldfield in the plot!
"I hope this will cheer you, father."
"It always does," replied the admiral, as he took the second glass. "I
have asked Mr. Fitzgerald to spend a week with us."
"Thank you, father. It was thoughtful of you. If you had not asked
him, the pleasure of doing so would have been mine. Mrs. Coldfield
pointed you out to me as a most ungrateful fellow, because you never
called on your father's or mother's friends any more, but preferred to
gallivant round the world. You will stay? We are very unconventional
here."
"It is all very good of you. I am rather a lonesome chap. The
newspapers and magazines have spoiled me. There's never a moment so
happy to me as when I am ordered to some strange country, thousands of
miles away. It is in the blood. Thanks, very much; I shall be very
happy to stay. My hand-bag, however, is at Swan's Hotel, and there's
very little in it."
"A trifling matter to send to New York for what you need," said the
admiral, mightily pleased to have a man to talk to who was not paid to
reply. "I'll have William bring the cart round and take you down."
"No, no; I had much rather walk. I'll turn up some time in the
morning, say luncheon, if that will be agreeable to you."
"As you please. Only, I should like to save you an unpleasant walk in
the dark."
"I don't mind. A dark street in a country village this side of the
Atlantic holds little or no danger."
"I offered to build a first-class lighting plant if the town would
agree to pay the running expenses; but the council threw it over. They
want me to build a library. Not much! Hold on," as Fitzgerald was
rising. "You are not going right away. I shan't permit that. Just a
little visit first."
Fitzgerald resumed his chair.
"Have a cigar. Laura is used to it."
"But does Miss Killigrew like it?" laughing.
"Cigars, and pipes, and cigarettes," she returned. "I am really fond
of the aroma. I have tried to acquire the cigarette habit, but I have
yet to learn what satisfaction you men get out of it."
Conversation veered in various directions, and finally rested upon the
subject of piracy; and here the admiral proved himself a rare scholar.
By some peculiar inadvertency, as he was in the middle of one of his
own adventures, his finger touched the burglar alarm. Clang! Brrrr!
From top to bottom of the house came the shock of differently voiced
bells. The two men gazed at each other dumfounded. But the girl
laughed merrily.
"You touched the alarm, father."
"I rather believe I did. And a few minutes before you came in with the
toddies I tried it and it didn't work."
It took some time to quiet the servants; and when that was done
Fitzgerald determined to go down to the village.
"Good night, Mr. Fitzgerald," said the girl. "Better beware; this
house is haunted."
"We'll see if we can't lay that ghost, as they say," he responded.
The admiral came to the door. "What do you make of it?" he whispered.
"You possibly did not press the button squarely the first time." And
that was Fitzgerald's genuine belief.
"By the way, will you take a note for me to Swan's? It will not take
me a moment to scribble it."
"Certainly."
Finally the young man found himself in the park, heading quickly toward
the gates. He searched the night keenly, but this time he neither
heard nor saw any one. Then he permitted his fancy to take short
flights. Interesting situation! To find himself a guest here, when he
had come keyed up for something strenuous! Pirates and jolly-rogers
and mysterious trespassers and silent bells, to say nothing of a
beautiful young woman with a leaning toward adventure! But the most
surprising turn was yet to come.
In the office of Swan's hotel the landlord sat snoozing peacefully
behind the desk. There was only one customer. He was a gray-haired,
ruddy-visaged old salt in white duck--at this time of year!--and a blue
sack-coat dotted with shining brass buttons, the whole five-foot-four
topped by a gold-braided officer's cap. He was drinking what is
jocularly called a "schooner" of beer, and finishing this he lurched
from the room with a rolling, hiccoughing gait, due entirely to a
wooden peg which extended from his right knee down to a highly polished
brass ferrule.
Fitzgerald awakened the landlord and gave him the admiral's note.
"You will be sure and give this to the gentleman in the morning?"
"Certainly, sir. Mr. Karl Breitmann," reading the superscription
aloud. "Yes, sir; first thing in the morning."