A STARTLING EXPERIENCE
Mary was gone and through the window! That was plain even to the
excited girls who, in the night, stood around Mrs. Dunbar, aghast with
wonder, and fearful for the safety of the little girl, so lately their
companion.
"No one could have dragged her through the window without disturbing
us," Mrs. Dunbar said. "One of you girls call Jennie, and I will phone
the garage for Michael."
All the fear that at first seemed to paralyze the girls was now
dispelled in their anxiety for the safety of Mary.
"Come on!" Grace replied promptly. "I'll run down to Jennie's room and
get her to help us!"
"And I'll go with you," declared Madaline without a tremor in her voice.
"I shall have to go to my room to phone, Cleo," said Mrs. Dunbar. "But
we haven't searched any yet. She may be somewhere about, although the
window has been so pulled apart."
"Better get Michael at once, I should think," Cleo suggested. "I'll
stay here till you come back."
"Not afraid alone----"
"Not a bit. This is like one of our real scout experiences. Do hurry,
Auntie, I am so afraid those people may have carried Mary off!" she
urged.
It took a few minutes to arouse the man in the garage, with the
telephone call. Meanwhile, Cleo was cautiously and quietly looking
about the room. First, naturally, she looked under the bed, next she
threw open the door of the closet, being wise enough to jump to the
hall door as she did so, but not so much as a piece of clothing
stirred. Other articles of furniture in the room that could possibly
serve as a screen were then scrutinized, but they offered no clew.
Finally Cleo stepped to the window ledge, and peered out into the thick
trees that surrounded the house. She put her hands to her eyes to
shade them from the light--wasn't that something white in the button
ball tree?
Neither Mrs. Dunbar nor the girls had come back to the room, and for a
moment Cleo hesitated, perched there at the window. Should she turn
off the light to be able the better to see into the darkness?
The white object appeared to move a trifle, and it seemed large, even
like a girl's form.
Cleo jumped from the window seat and touched the button to shut off the
light. At the same moment Grace and Madaline entered the room.
Both screamed as they encountered the darkness.
"Oh, Cleo, where are you?" begged Grace.
"She's gone, too!" wailed Madaline.
"Hush!" whispered Cleo, as soon as she could make herself heard.
"There's something white out in the tree!"
"Oh, where is Aunt Audrey?" Madaline pleaded, turning to run.
"Never mind," Grace assured her. "Whatever it is it can't get in here.
Let us help Cleo."
Cleo was now standing on the window ledge with her feet inside the room
and her head and shoulders out in the darkness. Grace and Madaline got
hold of her somehow, for her leaning position out of the high window
seemed apt to overbalance her at the slightest move.
"It must be Mary!" Cleo whispered, "and in the tree. How ever can we
get her?"
"How did she get there?" Grace asked, meaning the question to answer
Cleo's.
"The limbs touch the piazza roof. But listen, girls, she may be
asleep, and if we should wake her suddenly she would fall. You go tell
Aunt Audrey while I stay and watch. No, Madaline, wait a moment, get
me the flash light I laid on the dresser. You can see it from the hall
light. Yes, that's it. Let me have it."
"What are you going to do?" Madaline asked under her breath, but with a
show of alarm.
"I must see if that is Mary. If it is, she is in danger of falling if
asleep; if awake she may jump. There, did you hear that! It was a
shot--out by the front gate!"
"Oh!" shuddered Madaline. "Do come in, Cleo, they may shoot you."
"No, they can't see me, and I must go to the edge of the roof," and
breathing her scout prayers for safety, Cleo climbed over the sill, and
cautiously crept to the edge of the slanting roof.
All this time the figure in the tree remained stationary as a gray
shadow, just blanching white as Cleo slowly turned her little flash
light upon it.
"It is Mary!" she whispered to Madaline, back at the window. "Quick,
get Aunt Audrey and the girls out under the tree! I can reach her!
Have them pull out the porch mattresses!"
Almost choked with excitement, Madaline managed to reach Mrs. Dunbar,
repeat Cleo's orders, then hurry with her and Grace, who was now
dragging Jennie along, down the stairs to the front door.
Mrs. Dunbar held her revolver in her right hand while Jennie unbolted
the big heavy door.
"Let me go first!" Mrs. Dunbar ordered. "Jennie, flash the light ahead
of us."
As the maid followed this order a small streak of light made a safe
path out to the edge of the porch.
"There comes Michael," exclaimed Jennie, venturing out next, and no one
could have misunderstood the note of relief in her voice.
Above them Cleo had climbed in the tree as quietly as the green limb,
swaying under her light weight, permitted. Her flash light now was in
the pocket of her pajamas, and as she mounted a strong branch and
pulled herself nearer the tree trunk, she seemed scarcely more than
some wild night bird seeking refuge.
She could now see Mary's face, and as it showed no expression of
recognition she was confident the girl was sleeping. Crawling nearer
with slow, sure moves, holding to small branches from overhead, and
then balancing to the strong limb on which she sat and hitched herself
along, Cleo paid no heed to the commotion under the tree.
She must first grasp the girl who sat so silently, her one arm wound
around the light tree trunk, her head leaning against it in the most
matter-of-fact attitude, almost caressing the gray button ball wood,
while even in the dark those two dark braids of hair were tragically
outlined against the white of her clinging night robe.
One more shift of her body and Cleo had her arm around Mary. With the
other she held firmly to the tree.
"Quick!" she called now, realizing the mattresses were placed beneath
them. "We may fall!"
As she spoke Mary shuddered, and gasped.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Reda, I am here!"
"It is not Reda," Cleo answered in that droning voice she believed
necessary to use.
"It is I, Cleo. Be careful. We are safe. Don't move!" for the one
bare arm was relinquishing its hold on the tree. "Wait a minute. We
can climb down. See, Michael has fetched a ladder."
Somehow realizing her strange predicament, the girl at once became
obedient to Cleo's orders. She turned exactly as directed, made her
way down the branches to the unobstructed tree trunk, where she backed
to the tall, strong ladder, placed securely against the bark by Michael.
Willing hands assisted her as she reached the lower rounds, then Cleo
followed, descending so quickly she reached the ground almost as soon
as did Mary.
It was a strange sight. All the girls in their pajamas. Grace had
secured an extra green jersey sweater. Madaline was garbed in the
lavender cape Cleo had discarded when she climbed through the window,
while Mary stood like a statue, in her clinging white, with Cleo beside
her, looking as if she had stepped out of a comic opera in her blue
bird pajamas. But the audience was unresponsive.
Michael, the dignified, was too busy to notice costumes. Jennie had
troubles of her own with her quickly arranged attire, and Mrs. Dunbar
was far more concerned with the whole situation than to take any notice
of its special, striking effect.
"Oh, what was it?" Mary murmured, rubbing her hand across her head as
if in pain. "I thought Reda called. She said Grandie wanted me, and I
hurried to her!"
"You likely did hear a call," said Mrs. Dunbar, "but it may have been
our pet owl. Come, let us all get inside. Isn't it fortunate no one
was hurt? Cleo, however did you get out on that tree without shocking
Mary from her perch?"
But Cleo had observed she, of ail the group, was alone in a real pajama
outfit, and consequently took herself off promptly to more secluded
quarters, and was then not at hand to answer for her courage.
It was almost an hour before the excitement had sufficiently abated to
permit thoughts of returning to bed, and then it was arranged that all
four girls should pile into the room with the twin beds, while Mrs.
Dunbar's room was thrown open between, by rolling back the folding
doors.
Such chattering, such gabbing and such giggling! Naturally the night's
experience was entitled to a thorough review, and it must be said the
girls did the subject full justice.
Mary, however, was inclined to be taciturn. Every now and then her
eyes would "shoot," as Grace called the queer expression, and when the
lights were still on, and this peculiar look could be noticed, her
friends made no apology for their good natured remonstrance.
"Here, now, Mary!" Grace would then call. "Don't you dare go off
walking trees in your sleep again. This was a wonderful night,
but--let's call it a day."
"One night of this kind is a regular week," Cleo added, "and I vote we
make this very minute the end of a perfect day."
It really was "a lot of fun" to be all tucked into one room, and Mrs.
Dunbar remained down stairs for a considerable time while the
youngsters toned themselves down. Cleo made an opportunity to whisper
to Madaline and Grace not to speak of the shot they had heard fired,
but Mrs. Dunbar and her gardener were just then quietly discussing that
phase of the affair.
"Michael, what was that shot, do you know?" she asked. "I did not want
to mention it before the girls."
"Nor did I, madam," and the old gardener shifted uneasily. "Yes, I
know what it was. They got--poor--Shep."
"You--can't--mean our lovely--Shep has been shot!"
"I wish I didn't, but we may be able to bring him around. He's not
dead. They struck his thigh, and I was after him as quick as I heard
his first whine. That is why I could not answer the telephone at once."
"Oh, Michael. Do everything possible to save our dog. You know how
much we think of him, and we expect Mr. Dunbar home from his trip soon.
Do you think we can save him?"
"I'll take him to the vet's first thing comes daylight," replied the
man. "I wouldn't want to take a year's wages in exchange for Shep."
He snapped these last words with rather a vengeful meaning. "And I'd
like to say, madam, if I might," he continued, "it was a blessing those
little girls went after that other youngster to-night, from what I
heard later. Seems to me sometimes the babies do know more than their
elders."
"Yes, Michael," replied Mrs. Dunbar to whom the news that her dog
having been shot was distinctly a shock. "I, too, heard rumors of
strange men in town, as I came up from the station. Of course, the
police will investigate to-morrow."