POLO IS SHADOWED.
[Illustration]
Polo ran up and with her was her brother, and Mrs. Roseveldt left her
seat on the stand, as soon as the mile run was decided, and joined us as
we stood around Jim. She was a woman of kindly impulses in spite of her
fondness for fashionable life.
"You must let me have the boy conveyed to my house," she said to Colonel
Grey. "His father and mother are abroad, and you have no conveniences at
the 'Barracks' for sickness."
"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Roseveldt," Adelaide murmured, "and will you let me
come too and nurse him?"
"You had better not sacrifice your studies," Mrs. Roseveldt replied
kindly. "We will have a trained nurse and you shall come and sit with
him for a time every afternoon. The hospitalities of my house are just
now taxed by company. I shall have to give Jim Milly's old room and put
a cot in my dressing-room for the nurse."
"But my studies are of no consequence whatever in comparison with Jim,"
Adelaide pleaded; "and the cot in the dressing-room will do finely for
me. Please let me be the nurse, Mrs. Roseveldt."
Mrs. Roseveldt, seeing how much in earnest Adelaide was, turned to the
physician and asked, "Doctor, do you think that an untrained girl like
Miss Adelaide, with all the good intentions in the world, is capable of
nursing your patient?"
"Perfectly," the physician replied. "I am assured now that the boy will
recover. The artery cut was an unimportant one, but the gash just missed
the tibialis; he has had a very fortunate escape. All he needs now is
rest, and careful attendance, to recuperate. I have no doubt that his
sister's society would enliven and benefit him far more than that of a
stranger."
"How shall I get him to my home?" Mrs. Roseveldt asked. "He is hardly
able to ride on the coach."
"Some one must go to the station and telegraph for an ambulance," said
the physician.
"I will undertake that service. I have a good horse here," volunteered
Professor Waite, who had hurried to the pavilion as soon as he saw that
Adelaide was in trouble. No one had noticed him up to this time, but
Adelaide now accepted his offer very gratefully.
"Anything that I can do for you, Miss Armstrong----" Professor Waite
replied; but Adelaide was not listening to him, and he left his remark
unfinished.
"If we can do nothing further here," said Mrs. Roseveldt, "I will ask
Mr. Van Silver to take us home at once. I would like to order some
preparations for the reception of my little guest."
"If you please, Mrs. Roseveldt," said Adelaide. "I would rather wait for
the ambulance and ride down with Jim."
"I will take charge of Miss Armstrong and her brother until the arrival
of the ambulance," said Colonel Grey. And so Adelaide was left.
Mrs. Roseveldt collected her party and Mr. Van Silver gathered up the
reins; but before we started Milly noticed that Miss Noakes was fanning
Rosario Ricos, who had only partially recovered from her fainting fit,
and that the poor woman looked dejected and puzzled. "Oh, Mr. Van
Silver," said Milly, "won't you invite Rosario to take Adelaide's place?
She doesn't look able to go back in the cars."
"Anything you please, Miss Milly," Mr. Van Silver replied; and Milly was
down from her seat in a moment, Miss Noakes accepting the offer most
joyfully.
Stacey came up just as we were leaving. He made no attempt to speak to
Milly, but asked Mrs. Roseveldt if he might call on Jim occasionally.
"My house is always open to you, Stacey," Mrs. Roseveldt replied kindly,
and Stacey thanked her and assisted Rosario to climb up beside her.
"Aren't you going to compete for the high jump?" asked Mr. Van Silver.
Stacey shook his head.
"That accident took all the starch out of you, didn't it?" Mr. Van
Silver continued. "Well, I don't wonder; a nervous shock like that makes
a fellow as weak as a rag. Never mind, Stacey, we'll hear from you next
year at Harvard. I shouldn't wonder if you got on the 'Varsity crew."
On our way home, Mrs. Roseveldt condoled with Rosario. "I am sorry for
your brother's disappointment," she said; "though we were all interested
in Adelaide's brother. It is the great pity in these contests that every
one cannot win."
"It was not him to lose the race what troubled me," said Rosario. "It
was that he to hurt little Jim Armstrong, and some so bad boys near by
to me did say he to do it upon purpose. They called him one 'chump' and
'mucker.' I know not what these words to mean, but I think that they are
not of compliment."
We assured her that we did not believe it possible that her brother had
intentionally hurt Jim, and she was somewhat comforted.
"Fabrique is one little wild," she said, "and his temper is not of the
angels, but he could not be so bad."
"Who was that old gentleman who came and spoke to you during the games?"
Mr. Van Silver asked of me.
"He is Madame's lawyer," I replied. "We see him sometimes at the
school."
"Didn't I hear him mention the Earl of Cairngorm?"
"Did he? Oh, yes! I remember, he said that the Earl of Cairngorm brought
Polo's brother to this country on his yacht."
"He must mean Terwilliger, the ex-jockey and cabin-boy, now trainer at
the Cadet School."
"Exactly. Do you know him?"
"Rather. I got him his present position. If it had not been for me I
don't think Colonel Grey would have engaged him."
"I'm so glad," I cried, "if you can vouch for his character. You
see----" and then I hesitated, bound by Madame's orders not to mention
our trouble.
"What interests you particularly in Terwilliger?" asked Mr. Van Silver.
"He is Polo's brother, for one thing."
"And Polo is the young lady that Miss Milly was lunching so sumptuously
on turtle-soup and ice-cream the afternoon I saw you at Sherry's? I
wanted to inquire whether that large family of starving children were
still subsisting on macaroons."
"Mr. Van Silver, you are just as mean as you can be," Milly pouted.
"Oh, no! you have yet to learn my capabilities in that direction. I am
glad to know that your _protege_ is a sister of my favorite, for I like
Terwilliger, and I think he has had a harder time than he deserves.
There is one portion of his history that I could have testified to if I
had been in the city and possibly have saved his being sent unjustly to
prison, so I feel that I owe it to him to do him any kindness that I
can."
"What was it, Mr. Van Silver?" I asked eagerly.
"Oh! it's my secret; and as it is too late to help Terwilliger now, I
shan't confess."
"Perhaps it is not too late to help him," I exclaimed. "Mr. Van Silver,
I can't tell you now, but Mr. Mudge will explain everything, and when I
send him to you will you please tell him all you can in Terwilliger's
favor. Indeed, he never needed your friendship more."
"I'm there," Mr. Van Silver replied; "and in return what will you do for
me?"
"Winnie is writing a composition on the life of Raphael. I will copy it
and send it to you," said Milly.
Mr. Van Silver made a wry face; he had not a very favorable opinion of
school-girl compositions. "I would rather see the young lady herself,"
he replied; "but I don't believe there is any Witch Winnie. She is a
Will-o'-the-Wisp, Margery Daw sort of girl."
"She is thoroughly real, I do assure you."
"What does she look like? How does she dress?"
"Well, out of doors she likes to wear a boy's jockey cap of white cloth
and a jaunty little jacket, and I regret to say that she is not
unfrequently seen with her hands in its pockets, and her elbows making
aggressive angles."
"And, I presume, she also wears stiffly-laundried shirt waists, with
men's ties, and divided skirts, and her hair is short and parted on the
side, and she rides a bicycle. I know the type--the young lady who
affects the masculine in her attire."
"She has just the loveliest long hair in the world, and her skirts are
not divided, and she doesn't ride a bicycle, nor wear shirt waists, at
least not horrid, starched, manny ones. She likes the soft, washable
silk kind; and she is a great deal more lady-like than you are, and
lovely, and just splendid; so there!"
Mr. Van Silver chuckled; he liked to tease Milly.
Adelaide remained at Mrs. Roseveldt's for two weeks. Jim did not gain as
fast as the physician had expected. The nervous shock and the great
strain of the race after the accident had been more than the boy's
slight physique could well endure.
Adelaide read to him, and played endless games of halma and backgammon,
and discussed plans for the summer, or told him of the people in her
tenement, in whom Jim was even more interested, if that were possible,
than Adelaide herself. Polo called and brought a bouquet, for which she
had paid seven cents on Fourteenth Street. Jim was glad to meet Polo
when he knew that she was Terwilliger's sister, for the trainer had been
especially proud of Jim, and had given him many points on bicycling.
One day when Polo was present, Jim suddenly asked Adelaide, "Say,
sister, did the boys really go to your cat-combing party?"
"I don't know," Adelaide replied. "There were two suspicious characters
there, but we never found out who they were."
"They was boys," Polo insisted; "and one of 'em was fat, and trod on my
toe, and one of 'em was little, and smelled of cigarettes."
"If I was only back at school," Jim replied, a little fretfully, "I'd
find out for you, fast enough, whether it was Buttertub and Ricos. But
what can a fellow do penned up here?"
"Never mind, Jim," Adelaide replied soothingly. "The truth will all come
out at last."
Polo's great eyes snapped. "Albert Edward could find out," she said.
"The boys tell him lots of things."
Adelaide did not tell Polo that her brother's testimony would count for
little, as he was himself suspected, and the girl went away determined
to assist in unravelling the mystery.
Stacey called frequently and Adelaide could but admire his patience with
the whims of the sick boy. Jim asked him to try to find out whether
Buttertub and Ricos were the intruders on our Catacomb party, and this
was one of the very few requests which Jim made that Stacey refused.
"I don't want to have anything to do with those fellows," he said, "and
you know I never could act the spy."
"I have been thinking," Stacey said, after Adelaide had told him Polo's
history and the needs of the Home, "that we boys might get up some sort
of an athletic entertainment in behalf of the Home of the Elder Brother.
The cadets all like Terwilliger, and if they knew that his little
brother and sister were supported by the Home, they would all chip in
willingly."
"Terwilliger has such a good salary," Adelaide replied, "that Polo tells
me they intend, as soon as their mother is able to leave the hospital,
to take the children from the Home, rent an apartment in my tenement,
and set up housekeeping for themselves. But, if the Terwilligers do not
need it, you may be sure there will always be poor children enough who
do. And something might happen, Terwilliger might lose his place at your
gymnasium, and not be able to support his brother and sister, after
all."
Adelaide was thinking uneasily as she spoke of the cloud which shadowed
Polo and her brother. What if it should be proved that the ex-convict
had committed the two robberies in the Amen Corner with the assistance
of his sister.
"Oh, Terwilliger won't lose his situation," Stacey remarked confidently.
"Colonel Grey likes him, and so do all the fellows. He's up on every
kind of athletics; knows all the English ways of doing things, for he
has been a jockey at the Ascot races and a coach to the Cambridge crew.
He's so good-natured too; doesn't mind helping fellows outside of hours.
He goes out rowing with me every Wednesday night in a two-oared gig on
the Harlem."
"Were you rowing with him on the 10th?" Adelaide inquired eagerly, for
this was the night of the Catacomb party.
"Yes," Stacey laughed, "and we were late, and I got a special blowing up
for it, too. You see, they lock the door at ten, and I had to ring the
janitor up, and he was raving, for he had already been disturbed to let
Ricos and Buttertub in, and he was in no mood to pass it over. He
reported us all to Colonel Grey, who gave us order marks for it."
"Ah!" thought Adelaide, "this is encouraging. Buttertub and Ricos were
out late on the night of our party, and Stacey can prove an alibi for
Terwilliger. I shall report all this to Mr. Mudge."
Jim returned persistently to the idea of the entertainment for the Home
of the Elder Brother. "I wish you would see to it, Stacey. What are the
boys doing now?"
"Tennis, and base-ball. You ought to see Woodpecker; he is going to be
our tennis champion; he can make the neatest underhand cut. He's simply
great."
"Any better than the club down at the Pier?" Jim asked.
"What! the Sand-flies? They can't hold a candle to us."
"It would be nice to have the Cadets play the Sand-flies," Jim
suggested. "Colonel Grey would give the tennis club a field-day if you
asked him, and the excursion to the Pier by boat would be lovely. Mrs.
Roseveldt says she's going to open her cottage earlier than usual this
year, and she will get the Sand-flies interested. Say, is it a go?"
Stacey lashed his boots lightly with his riding-whip; for he was on his
way to the Park for a ride.
"We couldn't make a success of the affair without Miss Milly's help," he
said, "and after the way she treated me at the games I'll never ask
another favor of her--never."
Jim was much distressed.
"That tournament scheme was such a good one," he said. "The Sand-flies
are already interested in the Home of the Elder Brother, and we could
make a big affair of it and rake in lots of money for the Home. I mean
to talk with Mrs. Roseveldt about it, any way."
"All right," Stacey replied as he rose to take his leave; "so long as
you don't talk with Miss Milly. She would think it a put-up job between
us."
"Now it was real vexatious in Stacey to say that," Jim remarked, after
his friend had left. "I meant to have it out with Miss Milly the next
time I saw her. Won't you wrestle with her, Adelaide?"
"I'm afraid it's of no use," Adelaide replied, but Jim would not give
up the idea so easily. He talked it over with Mrs. Roseveldt, who
approved of the tennis tournament. It would be just the thing with
which to open the season. The Cadet team would be a great attraction.
She would intercede with Colonel Grey to allow them to remain several
days. "It must take place early in June," she said, "just after
Milly's commencement exercises, and while Adelaide and you are
visiting us, before your father and mother return and take you away. I
will drop a line to Milly that I want her to come home for my last
reception this season, and I'll invite Stacey to talk it over."
Jim was afraid that Milly might not be inclined to receive Stacey's
proposal with favor, and he accordingly wrote her a long and labored
epistle, urging her, for the sake of the Home of the Elder Brother, to
bury the war hatchet. Jim's intentions were better than his spelling,
which was even worse than Milly's, and his letter amused her very much.
One phrase struck her as especially diverting: "Stacey says you treated
him worse than a Niger."
Jim had spelled the word with an economy of g's, and a capital letter,
which suggested visions of Darkest Africa. Milly laughed till she cried.
"Perhaps I have been impolite to him," she thought. Milly had a horror
of being discourteous, and she wrote Jim that if Stacey would not be
"soft," she would be nice to him for the sake of the Home of the Elder
Brother. Jim considered this quite a triumph, and showed the letter to
Stacey on the occasion of his next visit.
Stacey did not look as pleased as Jim had expected.
"Catch me being soft with her," he muttered. "I'll show Miss Milly
how much I care for her airs. By the way, Jim, we are to have two
invitations each to give away for the prize essays and declamations
at the close of school. I intend to invite Miss Winnie De Witt and
Miss Vaughn. I thought I would mention it, as it might influence your
invitations."
Jim opened his eyes aghast at what he heard. "You don't mean to say that
you are not going to send Miss Milly one of your tickets?"
"Yes, I do."
"And you are going to invite that hateful, horrid Vaughn girl?"
"I heard Buttertub boast that he was going to invite her, and I thought
it would be rather a pleasant thing for him to receive his ticket back
again with the information that as she had already accepted mine she had
no need for it."
Jim could hardly believe his ears. "Well, of all things," he said. "You
shan't do it, Stacey; you shan't do it! I'll invite Miss Milly, with
sister, if you don't want to, but it's a downright insult to fill her
place with such a pimply faced, common, loud----"
"I do not see that it is the young lady's fault if she has a _humorous
disposition_, and as for her being loud----"
"You said yourself that you could hear her hat at the Battery if she was
walking in Central Park. Sister says she toadies fearfully, and she
flirted like a silly at the games, and at the drill. I think you must be
hard up to ask her."
Stacey coloured, but was too proud to back down, and he left Jim in
tears. Poor little fellow, as he expressed it, it seemed as if all the
sticks which he tried to stand up straight were determined to fall down.
He could see that something was wrong with his hero, for Stacey's
disappointment at the games had cut deeply, and the boy was on the verge
of falling into a dangerous state of "don't care." When Jim asked him
what subject he intended to choose for his essay, Stacey said that he
had about decided not to compete. The subject must be connected with
Greek history or life, and he despised the whole business, and the
honour wasn't worth the trouble.
Adelaide took Stacey in hand and suggested a subject, in which he
manifested some interest, but all this worried Jim and kept him from
recovery.
Adelaide watched him anxiously. She had at first thought it best not to
notify her parents of Jim's accident, fearing to spoil their tour; but
as she felt certain that he was not improving she sent a cablegram, and
received an answering one stating that they would sail for America at
once. Adelaide watched eagerly for their coming. Jim pined for his
mother, and one day, to give her little invalid something pleasant to
look forward to, Adelaide told him that their parents were on the way
home. The news did him more good than all the physician's tonics. He
brightened every day and talked of his mother incessantly. Once it
seemed to occur to him that his delight was a poor return for Adelaide's
care, and he asked her anxiously, "You don't mind, do you, sister, that
I am so glad mother is coming? You are the very best sister in all the
world, but then you are not quite mother. You never can know just what
she was to me when we were so very poor."
"Of course, I am not jealous, dear Jim," Adelaide replied. "I can well
understand that you and mother are bound together even more closely than
most mothers and sons, by that long fight together with poverty. I only
wish that I had been with you to help you bear it. But then I do not
know what father would have done. He suffered so much while you were
lost to us, that if I had not been there to live for I think he would
have died or have gone insane."
"I don't wonder that father loves you so much and is so proud of you,
sister. I am very glad you were not with us when we were so very
wretched. You ought not to know what it is to be poor, Adelaide. You
ought to be a queen."
"I am a queen now, Jim, and I think I do know what it is to be poor.
When you told me all your bitter experiences, I felt them as keenly, it
seemed to me, as if I had passed through them myself. I believe that God
sent us this intimate knowledge of how the poor suffer in order that we
might sympathize with and help them." Then Adelaide told him of the
tenement and described each of the families. Some of them Jim had known
in that other life which has been related in a former volume, and he
inquired eagerly for the inventor, Stephen Trimble, and for the Rumples,
and others. Adelaide told him, too, of the two turtle-doves, and of the
sad death of Miss Cohens, and how the Terwilligers were soon to be
established in one of the best suites. This last information pleased Jim
very much.
"I like Terwilliger," he said. "He is so funny; he drops all his h's,
and calls everything 'bloomin'.' Buttertub is a 'bloomin' fool,' and
Stacey is a 'bloomin' swell,' and when I got hurt he said it was a
'bloomin' shame,' and Ricos was a 'bloomin' cad,' and the fellows ought
to have made a 'bloomin' row' about it."
That evening it happened that Mrs. Roseveldt was to give a _musicale_,
and as Jim was feeling very bright, Adelaide had consented to take part.
She was a creditable performer upon the violin, and had decided upon a
romance by Rubenstein. She came to the school early in the afternoon for
her music, and, to give her more of a visit with us, Mrs. Roseveldt had
suggested that she should remain until after dinner, promising to send
the carriage for her. Stacey was expected to call that afternoon and
would keep Jim from being lonely.
We were all delighted to have Adelaide with us once more, for we had
missed her greatly.
I was painting in the studio, and Professor Waite had just told me that
it was all for the best that I could not probably go to Europe in
vacation.
"You are not ready for it," he said. "You will profit far more by
European instruction after a year of thorough training in the Art
Students' League. I would advise you to attend it next winter. Our
disappointments are often blessings in disguise. Providence keeps the
things for which we are not prepared, saved on an upper shelf for us
until we deserve them."
As he said this, a joyful hub-bub rang out in the Amen Corner, led by a
wild, Comanche shriek from Polo, who happened to be in the corridor:
"Miss Adelaide's come! Glory! Oh, glory!"
Professor Waite flushed and paled, took two steps impulsively toward the
door, and then sat down before my easel, and began insanely to spoil a
sky with idiotic dabs of green paint. I wondered whether Providence was
saving up Adelaide until he deserved her. If so, the shelf was for the
present a very high one.
To my surprise, Adelaide tapped at the studio door a moment later. She
greeted Professor Waite cordially. "I am so glad to find you," she said,
"for I want to impose upon you for a little help."
Professor Waite beamed.
"Stacey Fitz Simmons has asked me for a subject for an essay and I have
suggested 'The Athletic Contests of Ancient Greece,' as giving a
subject in which he is greatly interested--athletic sports--a classical
turn, suitable for the dignified occasion. At first he thought he could
make nothing original of it, but would have to crib everything from
books of reference; but it occurred to me that he might treat it from a
rather new standpoint by taking his information from remains of ancient
sculpture. I told him he had better study the casts at the Metropolitan
Museum, as that would be the next best thing to attending the games at
Corinth. Can you give him any additional sources of information?"
Professor Waite threw himself into the idea with enthusiasm and poured
forth at once a dissertation which would have taken the highest honours
at the competition. Then he made a memorandum of several works on art,
which Stacey would do well to consult, and rummaged about in his
portfolios for photographs of ancient statues of athletes and heroes,
the procession from the frieze of the Parthenon, and the like.
When we finally got Adelaide into the Amen Corner, we scarcely gave her
an opportunity to dress for the _musicale_, we had so many little
nothings to talk over with her.
In the midst of it all Mr. Mudge called, and we opened fire upon him at
once with the testimony which we had collected in favor of Polo and her
brother. He was not greatly impressed with Stacey's avowal that he had
been out rowing with Terwilliger on the night of the Catacomb party.
"I had already ascertained that he was out late that night," he said.
"Miss Milly told me that young Fitz Simmons on the night of the drill
threatened to attend your party. What assurance have we that he did not
attend it with Terwilliger as his companion? A lark on the young
gentleman's part, and a clever opportunity to steal on the part of the
trainer. My assistant has discovered that Terwilliger has had no
dealings with his old associate Nimble Tim since his release from
prison. Having to discard the idea that Tim was his companion, I have
been looking about to find another possible one. I thank you for your
assistance."
Milly was very angry. With true womanly inconsistency she scouted the
idea that Stacey could have had any part in the proceedings, although
she was the very one who had at first suggested it.
"And here," she said, "is something which ought to be perfectly
convincing to any sane man. Polo told me last night that her brother
heard Ricos and Buttertub boasting that they had fooled us all so
nicely, and had seen our play. They made fun of Winnie, and said she had
a little squeaky voice for so manly a part, and that it was 'nuts' to
see us try to manage our togas. Oh! I'd just like to choke them."
Mr. Mudge smiled. "It is very natural," he said, "that Terwilliger
should attempt to throw suspicion on some one else."
"But you know that Buttertub and Ricos were out late that night," I
suggested.
"Ricos obtained permission from Colonel Grey to hear Professor Ware's
lecture on Architecture, at Columbia College."
"And did they say they attended it?" Adelaide asked.
"Ricos so reported at the Barracks."
"Well, I happen to know that Professor Ware delivers those lectures on
Tuesday evenings," Adelaide replied triumphantly; "and this was
Wednesday night."
"Are you sure of this?"
"I am sure because I attend the lectures, and neither of those boys were
there."
Mr. Mudge rubbed his brow with his pencil. "Terwilliger's previous bad
record counts against him," he said persistently.
"Mr. Mudge," I entreated, "will you do me the favor to call on a friend
of ours, Mr. Van Silver, who knows all about that previous record of
Terwilliger's."
"How is that?" Mr. Mudge asked, and I related my conversation with Mr.
Van Silver on our return from the games.
"I will interview this gentleman," said Mr. Mudge, "for though
appearances are strongly against Terwilliger, I do not wish to act on
appearances alone. And meantime, if you could find some other witness
than young Fitz Simmons who could prove that he and the trainer were
really boating on the Harlem the night of your party, and some other
witness than Terwilliger to the admission of Ricos and his friend of the
dairy nickname, the cause of Lawn Tennis and her brother would be
materially strengthened."
"I agree to produce such witnesses," said Winnie rashly. "I have called
it my mystery and I intend to fathom it, if it takes all summer."
Mr. Mudge bowed and withdrew. His boots creaked down the hall a little
way and then we heard a knock and the opening of a door.
"Girls, he's calling on Miss Noakes," Winnie cried, in high glee. "Now,
what's to hinder my running out on the balcony and showing her that two
can play at the game of peek-a-boo."
"Nothing but the honour of the Amen Corner," Adelaide remarked. The
words threw a wet blanket on Winnie's proposal, but there was a
flickering smile about Adelaide's lips which showed that she was bent
upon mischief, a rare thing for Adelaide.
"I will wait until Mr. Mudge is gone," she said,--"I would not interrupt
two young lovers for the world,--and then I think I'll call on Miss
Noakes. I want her to help me translate the visit of AEneas to Queen
Dido."
"That's just like Winnie," Milly exclaimed; "but you would never do such
a thing."
"Won't I? You don't half know me, Milly, dear," and Adelaide actually
fulfilled her threat.
[Illustration]
"She expected him," Adelaide exclaimed, when she returned. "I found her
all gotten up regardless--that low-necked black net of hers! She did
look too absurd for anything, but happy is no name for it. There was a
blush on her withered old cheeks, and I actually believe a real tear in
her eye. When I told her what I wanted her to translate, she glared
at me haughtily, but I looked as demure as I could, and she went through
it without flinching. 'Men are deceivers ever, aren't they, Miss
Noakes?' I said. 'Just think of Pious AEneas behaving so cruelly to his
dear Dido.' 'How should I know, child?' she replied rather curtly."
While we were laughing, Cerberus knocked to inform us that Mrs.
Roseveldt's carriage waited and had sent him to inquire for Miss
Armstrong.
Adelaide found that Stacey had waited for her return. He woke to
animation over the photographs. "This decides me," he said. "I shall try
for the prize. I didn't imagine there was anything in Greek civilization
that I cared a rap for; but that quoit player is fine. Just look at his
muscles. I always thought that Discobolus was the fellow's name. It
never dawned upon me that it meant a quoit player. And this Mercury
hardly needs wings on his heels, his legs are built for a runner. And
isn't that Fighting Gladiator superb? And that Hercules and Vulcan?
Well, now, here is something curious. I do believe that Baker got his
'set' from that statue; the left arm is extended in the very same way,
and the boys all thought it was original with him."
So he ran on, his eyes kindling once more with enthusiasm. "Well, I must
go now and 'bone' on my geometry--beastly bore; but Buttertub has been
having very good marks lately, and I am not going to let him rank me."
He had hardly gone before it was time for Adelaide's Romance, and after
that Mr. Van Silver came up to express his compliments.
"I was sorry Stacey could not stay to hear you play," he said, "but he
seems to have a virtuous fit on, and said he must hurry to the barracks
and spend the evening in study. Perhaps, however, it was only an excuse
for mischief."
"Do you think so?" Adelaide asked. "It has seemed to me of late that
Stacey has had little heart for anything, even for mischief."
"That's a fact. I haven't seen him on the river since the games, and he
used to be very fond of rowing."
Adelaide gave a little gesture of despair. "There," she said, "I forgot
to ask him whether any one knew of his going out boating, the night of
our party, with Terwilliger, and Winnie was so particular about it. How
provoked she will be with me."
"Why is it that you young ladies have developed an overweening interest
in Terwilliger?" asked Mr. Van Silver. They were sitting on the
staircase apart from the others, and Adelaide replied:
"It is because he is suspected of a robbery which has occurred at our
school. We have been cautioned not to mention it, but I think I may say
as much to you, for Mr. Mudge, the detective who has been engaged to
investigate the affair, told me this afternoon that he intended to
interview you in regard to Terwilliger's part in the crime for which he
was sent to prison."
A cloud passed over Mr. Van Silver's face. "I hoped that thing was dead
and buried," he said. "It only proves that nothing is really ever
settled unless it is settled right. If it will do Terwilliger any good,
I will testify openly, as I ought to have done in the first place."
Adelaide looked at Mr. Van Silver wonderingly. He understood and said
quickly, "I cannot bear to lose your respect, Miss Armstrong; perhaps I
had better tell you just how it all happened."
"Not to gratify any curiosity on my part," Adelaide replied; "you might
be sorry afterward. And if it is something that the world has no
business to know----"
"The _World_! Heaven forbid that an account of the affair should get
into the _World_, the _Herald_, or any of our newspapers. I would rather
no one knew anything about it; but when I have told you the entire story
you will be able to judge how much of it I ought to confide to your
friend Mudge, in order to aid Terwilliger. You see, young Cairngorm is a
regular cub. His father sent him across on his yacht to us. He wanted
mother to comb him out, introduce him in New York circles, and get him
married, if she could, to some American heiress. If you girls only knew
what scamps some of those slips of nobility are you would not be so
crazy for titles."
Adelaide's eyes snapped. "I do not care a fig for a title," she
said indignantly. "I think a great deal more of an enterprising,
hard-working, true-hearted American, than of a mere name. I think that
the American pride of having accomplished some worthy work in life is
much more allowable than the English pride of belonging to a leisure
class."
"I beg pardon. I did not intend to be personal. When my mother saw what
sort of a specimen had been confided to her hands, she made no efforts
in the matrimonial direction, but simply tried to keep the chap out of
harm's way for a season, using me as her aide-de-camp. He had a passion
for betting and gaming, and I was at my wits end sometimes to head him
off. Terwilliger came over with him, you know; but he left the yacht on
its arrival for he wanted to establish himself permanently in America.
Cairngorm liked Terwilliger, tipped him handsomely on parting, and asked
me to take an interest in him. I promised to look out for him and
immediately forgot his existence. Terwilliger drifted about, waiting for
something to turn up, and Satan, who is the only employer who is on the
lookout for poor fellows who are out of work, appeared to Terwilliger,
in the person of a new acquaintance, Limber Tim. Tim told him that he
was connected with a sort of club devoted to athletics. It was really a
gambling saloon. Tim knew of Terwilliger's acquaintance with Cairngorm,
and he promised Terwilliger a five dollar bill if he would persuade
Cairngorm to patronize his establishment. 'Tell him,' he said, 'that we
are to have a very select game of poker to-night, only gentlemen
present, and get him to come down.'
"Now, how Terwilliger happened to be such a lamb, I can't say; but he
had never heard of poker, and he asked Tim if it was anything like
single stick. This amused Tim and he did not undeceive Terwilliger, who
appeared at our house in search of Cairngorm, and, not finding him, left
a labored epistle inviting him to come to No. -- Bowery, and see some
fun in the way of a sleight of hand performance with a 'poker.'
Cairngorm saw through it, though Terwilliger did not, and went out after
dinner without explaining where he was going. He took the note with him
for fear he might forget the number of the house, and thought that he
replaced it in his pocket, after consulting it under a corner gaslight;
but, as his luck would have it, he dropped the note there, and a
policeman, who had seen him read it, picked it up. The policeman knew
that the house was a gambling saloon, and immediately surmised the
truth, that this finely dressed young swell had been decoyed to his
ruin. Terwilliger had begun his letter simply, 'Nobble Sur,' and our
address was not on the letter, so that there was no clue to Cairngorm's
identity; but he had signed his own name in full, and the astute
policeman had this bit of convincing evidence of Terwilliger's
complicity in the confidence game.
"We knew nothing of this at the time, but it was late at night before
Cairngorm returned to our house, and we had all been very anxious about
him. His statements were to the point, for he had been thoroughly
frightened. He had lost heavily, and in the midst of the game the
police had raided the place, and he had escaped by springing into a
dumb-waiter, which had landed him in a kitchen, where he had remained
secreted until all was quiet.
"'It is very fortunate for you,' my father said sternly, 'that the
police did not secure you, for in that case the reporters would have had
a sensation for the morning papers, and your noble father would have
learned of your lodgment in the Tombs. As it is, you had better leave
New York at once. Your yacht is at Newport. I advise you to report at
home as soon as possible. It is your own fault that your American visit
has had so sudden and so disgraceful an ending.'
"I saw Cairngorm off, much relieved to get him off my hands, for we had
very little in common, and he was so lacking in principle that my
feeling for him was only one of contemptuous pity. On our way to
Newport Cairngorm told me that Terwilliger was perfectly innocent of any
connivance with the gamblers, and that as soon as he saw that they were
playing for money had attempted to induce him to leave the place, using
every persuasion possible, and making the gamblers very angry with him.
They had tried to put him out of the room, but he had insisted on
remaining, and when the police appeared it was Terwilliger who had shown
Cairngorm into the dumb-waiter. Immediately after Cairngorm's departure
to Scotland, I sailed for a long trip around the world, so that it was
over a year before I returned to New York.
"What was my chagrin to find that Terwilliger had been arrested and sent
to prison with the gamblers. My father had succeeded in keeping
Cairngorm's name out of the papers, but as he believed that Terwilliger
had knowingly acted as a decoy he had made no attempt to save him.
Terwilliger would not disclose Cairngorm's name at the trial when
confronted with the letter which he acknowledged having written. Nor did
he write him asking his assistance, so determined was he not to
implicate his patron in the affair. I looked up Terwilliger, and finding
that he had only a few weeks more to serve, set myself to work in
earnest to secure him a good position. I told the entire story to
Colonel Grey, who met him with me, on his release, and feeling confident
that he had not been contaminated by his prison associations, gave him
the position of trainer at his gymnasium. He has had a good record there
ever since, and I have been very unhappy that he has suffered so much on
my graceless friend's account. If I had known that an innocent person
was to be sent to prison I would never have helped him away after his
scrape, but would have insisted on his disclosing the entire truth, and
braving the consequences like a man. As it is I am going to make
Cairngorm do something for Terwilliger this summer. One of my grooms
does not care to go to Europe with me, and if Terwilliger has nothing
better to do while the cadets are on vacation, I will take him across. I
shall bring him back in the fall in time for the opening of the school."
Adelaide was intensely interested in this story. "You will tell it all
to Mr. Mudge, will you not?" she asked, "and convince him that
Terwilliger was unjustly imprisoned."
Mr. Van Silver promised to do this, and soon after took his leave.
Adelaide had not intended to tell Jim anything of the suspicion which
had fallen upon the trainer, but Jim had left his bedroom and come out
upon the landing to listen to the music, and had overheard all of Mr.
Van Silver's account.
When Adelaide went in to kiss Jim goodnight, she found his cheeks hot
and his eyes quite wild. "You will go to Mr. Mudge right away, will you
not, sister?" he urged. And he was not at all satisfied when Adelaide
assured him that this was not necessary, as Mr. Mudge had promised to
call on Mr. Van Silver on the following day.
The next day Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong arrived, and Jim's delight threw him
into a fever of excitement. Such alternations of happiness and worry
were bad for the boy, who needed calm, and Mr. Armstrong wished to
remove him to Old Point Comfort, but Jim begged that he might not be
taken from the city until the closing exercises of the Cadet School. "I
shall be well enough to attend them, I know," he pleaded, "and I want to
see sister graduate, and to know how the mystery turns out, and whether
Terwilliger is all right."
To gratify the boy Mr. Armstrong took furnished apartments fronting on
Central Park, and Mrs. Armstrong devoted herself to the care of her
little invalid, while Adelaide returned to school.
Commencement was near at hand, and Adelaide felt that she must work hard
to pass the final examination creditably. Our life at Madame's was not
all frolic, though I am conscious that my story would seem to indicate
that such was the case. Naturally, a full report of the solid lessons
which we learned would make a very stupid story, but the lessons formed
our daily diet, and the scrapes and good times that I have chronicled
occurred only at intervals.
We had what Milly called a thousand miles of desert, without even the
least little oasis of fun, between the Inter-scholastic Games and the
examinations. Winnie had taken a fit of serious study, and when Winnie
studied she did it, as she played, with all her might. Our only lark for
quite a time was a house-warming which we gave the Terwilligers. Polo
told us how she was fitting up the little flat of three rooms with the
assistance of her brother, and it certainly seemed as if the cloud which
had shadowed her had drifted away. The largest room was the kitchen,
also used as a dining-room. Adelaide had provided a range, and many
other things, with the rooms. The cadets clubbed together and made
Terwilliger a handsome present in money, with which he purchased a
lounge, which served for his own bed, and an easy chair for his mother;
and our King's Daughters Ten provided all the tinware and crockery.
Madame sent down a nice bedstead and some bedding. Professor Waite
contributed a neatly framed portrait of Polo, and Miss Noakes gave a box
of soap. Polo purchased the table linen, towels, etc., with her own
earnings, and Miss Billings hemmed them and the curtains, which were
made of cheese cloth. Mrs. Roseveldt sent her carriage to take Mrs.
Terwilliger from the hospital to her new home and gave a carpet, and Mr.
Van Silver ordered a barrel of flour and a half ton of coal. Mrs.
Armstrong selected a lamp as Jim's present, and took the two children
from the Home to one of the large stores and provided them well with
clothing for the summer before delivering them to their mother. It was a
very happy and united family that met together that evening in
Adelaide's tenement, and Mrs. Terwilliger, who had not been credited by
her acquaintances as being a religious woman, exclaimed reverently, "It
seems to me we'd orter be grateful to Providence for all these mercies;"
and her son responded emphatically:
"Grateful to Providence? You bet your life, I am!"