THE PURSUIT OF LOLA
Yes, Lola was gone; there could be no question about that.
Had not Walter scented trouble he would soon have been made aware of
it by the excitement that prevailed in the Peeks' kennels. Every dog
of the lot was barking furiously and with gleaming eyes and tail erect
striving to communicate tidings of importance. Yet bark as they might,
the message they sought to voice remained, alas, untold.
"If they could only speak we should soon know what has happened,"
bewailed the lad to Mrs. Crowninshield, as for the hundredth time they
searched every nook and corner for a clue to the mystery.
"Yes, they know--poor little things," their mistress agreed. "They are
trying their best to tell the story, too. I'd give worlds to know what
it is."
"And I."
"You are certain you locked everything up when you took the other dogs
out."
"Positive. Dick was with me and we both tried the gate before we
started."
"Nothing seems to be disturbed."
"No. That is the strange part of it."
Mrs. Crowninshield stopped, hot and breathless from her search.
"I cannot believe but that the mite will turn up. Have you asked Jerry
or Tim?"
"They were nowhere about when I got back," Walter replied. "The whole
place was still as the grave. I was just going to hunt up Jerry when I
saw the cars coming up the avenue."
"Well, I must not delay any longer now," announced Mrs. Crowninshield.
"The Davenports will be wondering what has become of me and so will
everybody else. Just find Jerry and Tim and quietly make sure they
have not taken the dog. In the meantime I will inquire of the maids at
the house. We will not, however, make too much talk about it, and send
out an alarm until we are certain there is a real tragedy. If I can
keep Mr. Crowninshield in ignorance of the matter until our guests
have gone I shall be glad. He will be dreadfully upset for he took
great pride in his possession of Lola and has declined numberless
offers to sell her."
"I know it," groaned Walter. "If it were only one of the other dogs
that was missing!"
"The fact that it isn't is what alarms me," returned the woman. "Lola
is a quiet little thing and has been petted so much that it would not
be like her to run away. Some of the other dogs might but she
wouldn't. She is far too timid."
"How could she run away, even if she had a mind to, with the gate
locked?"
"I know. That is another ominous fact." Mrs. Crowninshield shook her
head. "I'm afraid----"
"What?"
"That she has been stolen."
"Stolen!" gasped Walter. "But how could she with--with everybody
around?"
"But you yourself just said that nobody was around."
"Jove! That's true. Still somebody must have been here some time
during the afternoon. It is not likely Jerry, Tim, and all the rest
were out of hearing all the time I was gone."
"That is what we must find out."
"I'll go and hunt up Jerry now."
"Do. But work quietly; do not make a fuss. It will be time enough to
get everybody up in arms when we have to. I dread to think what Mr.
Crowninshield will say. He will be furious, simply furious."
With this dubious prediction his wife walked away.
She herself was upset. It was easy enough to see that. She strove,
however, to be calm, clinging desperately to the hope that the dog
might be discovered in the care of some of the men or maids. She
idolized Lola and although she did not admit it, His Highness knew
only too well that if it really proved that her pet was gone she, too,
would be furious.
"A nice mess!" commented the lad to himself as he hurried across the
lawn in search of Jerry. "A nice hole I am in the very first thing!
Between them they will tear me to pieces. And Ma--Ma will say, '_I
told you so!_' That's all the sympathy I'll get from her. She'll have
to know, of course, for Mr. Crowninshield will fire me bag and
baggage. I must expect that. Jerry as good as told me so when I came.
I sha'n't have a chance to defend myself. They will just believe I
left the gate of the kennels unlocked when I went out and that Lola
made off as fast as her four small feet could carry her. They will
either think that, or they will think--" he stopped aghast at the
possibility that had taken possession of his mind. "They couldn't
think I left it open on purpose for some one to get in and _take_
Lola! They couldn't think that! But suppose Mr. Crowninshield did
decide I was an accomplice what proof have I but my word that I
wasn't. It does look bad--my being gone and taking Achilles and the
other dogs with me. Still, I've done it every day since I've been
here. And anyway, they would know I could not entice Jerry and Tim
away even if I had wanted to."
The boy took courage.
"No, of course they couldn't think _I_ had anything to do with Lola
being gone," he murmured.
By this time he had overtaken Tim and his fellow workers who were
still busy clipping the hedge.
"Tim!" he called.
There was no answer but the crisp snip, snip of the shears.
"Tim!"
"Did you call?"
"Yes. You haven't seen Lola, have you?"
"Lola? Indeed I haven't. What would she be doing round here, I'd like
to know?"
His Highness struggled to smile.
"Oh, I just thought you might have seen her."
"She's not at the kennels?"
"No."
"Oh, then the mistress took her up to the house. She often does. She
is clean daffy over that dog. Give yourself no concern, sonny; the pup
is with the master and missis, being shown off to company, most
likely."
"Probably she is. So you and the men have been here all the
afternoon?"
"That we have. A hot job, the cutting of this hedge."
"It looks fine," declared Walter, turning away.
"It ought to," Tim growled. "Goodness knows it's trouble enough! A
privet hedge is the devil to keep even."
Walter, however, did not wait to hear the virtues and vices of privet
hedges discussed. He was in too much of a hurry. Furthermore, he had
secured the information which he had come to seek. Tim and his host
knew nothing of the whereabouts of Lola. Nothing else mattered. In
fact, bewildered, anxious, and excited, it seemed at the moment as if
nothing else would ever matter again. He must find that dog--he
_must_!
Nevertheless he remembered he must not appear agitated and therefore,
instead of racing across the lawn and shouting for Jerry as would have
been his inclination, he walked decorously along the path until he
came to the boathouse from which door Jerry was at that instant
issuing.
"You haven't seen Lola, have you, Jerry?" he asked as indifferently as
he could.
"Lola? No. Why?"
"It--it is just her dinner time," stammered the lad, "and I wanted to
find her."
"She'll be up at the house, most likely, if she isn't at the kennels,"
announced Jerry. "There's visitors and Lola will be on deck to see
'em. She's a vain little lady and likes to be shown off."
Walter greeted the remark with a sickly grin.
"What have you been doing?" inquired he idly.
"Me? Why, I was just starting to fix that hasp on the gate to the
chicken coop when Minnie came running down from the house to say
somebody wanted to speak to me on the telephone. It was a
long-distance call and kept me there most half an hour; and what it
was all about I don't know now. Some feller I never heard of kept
talking and talking, and I couldn't make head nor tail out of anything
he said. Finally I told him so and hung up the receiver. I can't
imagine who he was. Nobody ever telephones me."
"So you didn't get the hasp fixed on the hen yard."
"I would have hadn't the cook held me up just as I was leaving and
wanted I should put a new washer on the kitchen faucet. I saw it
needed it the worst way. In fact, I had planned to do it before the
folks came and it had slipped my mind. So I tinkered with that and
got nothing else done. I'm just after mending a hinge on the boathouse
door. A profitless afternoon, I call it."
"So you haven't been back to your diggings since noon."
"Not a once. Why? Did you want me?"
"N--o. Oh, no."
"That's lucky. Apparently everybody else did," concluded Jerry grimly.
So went Walter's quest! Nobody had seen Lola. Nobody knew anything
about her. Question as he would, not the faintest trace of the missing
dog could be obtained; and when the Davenports rolled down the drive
the lad faced the awful moment when his secret must be divulged and
the alarm sounded that Lola, the Crowninshields' most valued
possession, was missing. Rapidly he turned the prospect of the coming
storm over in his mind.
Since the dog had been left in his charge the only manly thing to do,
he argued, was to go directly to Mr. Crowninshield and himself
acquaint him with the direful tidings. It would be cowardly to shunt
this wretched task off on somebody else. It was his duty and his
alone. Nevertheless, as he stood for a moment summoning his courage,
he would have given all he possessed to escape the interview that
awaited him.
He would be scolded, blamed, discharged--that he knew--and he must
bear bravely censure for something which he could not feel was his
fault. Yet notwithstanding the fact that his conscience exonerated
him it made the coming scene no less dreadful to anticipate.
If Bob were only at hand to offer him his advice and sympathy. Bob was
such a bully comforter. He never jumped on a man when he was down.
Besides, he had a level head and always knew exactly what to do in an
emergency. The instant this awful talk with Mr. Crowninshield was over
and he was actually "fired" he should call Bob on the telephone and
tell him the whole story. He must tell somebody, and Bob would
understand better than anyone else just how everything had happened.
In the meantime there was nothing to be gained by further delay.
Pulling himself together, His Highness (a very meek bit of royalty
now) dragged himself up the flower-bordered path toward Surfside. As
he went it seemed as if every pansy flanking the walk stared out at
him and whispered, "Aha, young man! You're in for it now!"
Alas, he did not need to be told that! He knew it only too well. He
cleared his throat, wondering how he should begin his confession.
"Mr. Crowninshield, I have some very sad news to impart to you--etc.";
or "Mr. Crowninshield, I regret to say a very terrible thing has
happened." Such an introduction was easily delivered. It was the next
sentence that appalled him. He could not get it off his tongue. "_Lola
has disappeared!_" He could see now the great man's face as it
flushed with anger and surprise. What would _he_ say--that was the
question?
Probably his reply would be something like this.
"Young fellow, when I hired you, you undertook to look out for my dogs
and see that nothing happened to them. I agreed to pay you good wages
to perform that service and you, on your part, promised to do it
satisfactorily. How have you kept that promise? You knew Lola's value
and you should have looked out for her. It's up to you. You must
either produce that dog or you must pay for her."
He had by this time reached the house and like a criminal who faces
execution and mounts the scaffold steps he climbed the broad flight
leading to the front door. Mr. Crowninshield was on the veranda,
sitting quietly in a big wicker chair, looking out toward the sea. He
was thinking so intently on some imagining of his own that he did not
hear the lad's footfall and Walter was obliged to address him twice
before he answered. Then he started suddenly, as if annoyed at being
disturbed.
"Well?" interrogated he.
The fine introduction that His Highness had planned to utter, together
with everything else he had arranged to say, fled from his memory and
he stood speechless before his employer.
"You wish to see me?" Mr. Crowninshield repeated in a less sharp tone.
"I--yes, sir."
Nevertheless, despite the heavy pause the words the boy sought would
not come. Instead a plaintive jumble of phrases tumbled incoherently
forth, astounding the lad himself almost as much as they did the
person to whom they were addressed:
"Oh, sir, I've lost your dog, Lola! I didn't mean to and I didn't
really lose her. She was gone when I got back from my walk with
Achilles and the others. I left her locked in all right--I know I did.
Where she is or how she got out I've no idea. I'm terribly sorry. I
can't possibly pay for her, and you'll just have to put me in prison.
It's the only way, I guess. Don't blame my mother or Bob, please, or
Jerry either, because I've turned out to be such a duffer. It isn't
their fault. And perhaps I better go straight home. I suppose you
won't want me round here any more."
A great gasp strangled any further utterance and only the lad's
sobbing breath broke the stillness.
Nerved to receive a scourge of maledictions or a blow the culprit
waited. But nothing came--neither vindictives nor chastisement. He
ventured to raise his head and confront his judge.
Mr. Crowninshield was sitting looking far out to sea exactly as before
and Walter actually began to wonder whether he had been turned to
stone or had been stricken with deafness.
"Mr. Crowninshield!" he at last ejaculated when the silence had become
intolerable.
"Yes."
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, sonny."
"Well--well--what are you going to do with me?"
"Nothing, my boy."
"_What?_"
"This job about Lola is nothing to do with you, my son. It has
evidently been planned for a long time and carefully executed by
professionals. Had you been on the spot they would have contrived to
circumvent you just as they did Jerry. A gang have beaten us, that's
all. But I will show them I am not to be beaten so easily. I'll have
that dog back if it takes every dollar I have in the world. And I'll
land those chaps behind the bars, every one of them, or my name isn't
Crowninshield."
A tide of angry color surged over the face of the speaker and he rose
abruptly, as if forgetting the lad's presence.
"Yes, sir!" he continued. "I'll round up those thieves. They needn't
put me down for such an ass. Of course it's Daly and that New York
bunch that set them on. They have always wanted Lola and been mad as
hatters that I refused to sell her. Only the last time I saw Jake Daly
he said, 'What I can't get by fair means I sometimes get by foul,
Crowninshield, so you'd better look out for your precious dog.' I did
not heed the threat at the time, attributing it to temper. But
evidently he meant just what he said. He intended to have the dog,
whether or no. But by thunder," Mr. Crowninshield brought down his
fist on the piazza rail, "he won't win out in the deal! I'll jail him
and all his tribe--see if I don't!"
Walter, watching, hardly knew whether to go or stay. The man's rage
was terrible and he thanked his lucky stars that it was not directed
toward himself.
"Is--is--there anything I can do, Mr. Crowninshield?" he at last
managed to stammer after the master had ceased his pacing of the
veranda and at length became conscious of his presence.
"Not a thing, little chap," returned his employer, flashing him one of
his rare smiles. "You have been mighty white about this, though. I
guess it took some nerve to come up here and tell me this, didn't it?"
"Yes, sir, it did."
"I wondered what you'd do."
"Wondered?"
"Yes. Mrs. Crowninshield told me about Lola the minute the Davenports
went. I saw the affair had nothing to do with you. Nevertheless, I
wasn't sorry to try you out and see how much of the man was in you.
You're all right, boy. Cheer up! Nobody is going to pack you home to
your mother, so don't worry. And far from blaming you, if I want help
about finding Lola, I'll add you to my detective force. You may be
useful, who knows?"
The words, designed merely to be comforting, were idly, kindly spoken,
and carried little real weight. Had the master of the house really
suspected how true they were to prove he would have been astonished.