THE INTERRUPTION
All afternoon, just before the night of the fancy dress ball, the four
girls took turns watching at the front windows of the Preston house for
the belated boys. In spite of Tom's telegram, plainly stating the day of
their arrival, the motor launch boys had not put in an appearance. Soon
after luncheon David went down to the river bank to watch for them. At
six o'clock he came back to say that he had waited as long as possible
and had seen no sign of the "Sea Gull." It looked as though the boys had
been delayed.
The girls were in despair. Here they had planned a wonderful surprise
party for the boys, and their guests of honor were not going to be
present. The young people from the nearby country houses had been
invited to the dance, to begin at eight o'clock that evening, so it was
quite impossible to put it off.
At half-past eight the old Virginia homestead, where belles and beaux
had made merry many long years before, was gay with the voices of the
invited guests. But the dancing had not yet begun. Each time the old
door-bell rang the four girls hoped it meant the return of the four
boys.
Under the great curved stairway the orchestra of colored musicians was
tuning up. Sam, the colored boy, who had first introduced two of the
houseboat girls to Mrs. Preston, was the leader of the band of six
instruments. If you have never heard old-time colored people play dance
music, you can hardly imagine how delightful it is. To-night Sam's
orchestra was composed of six instruments, a bass violin, which he
played himself, two banjos, two guitars and a tambourine.
In the long parlors that were to be used for the dancing Mr. and Mrs.
Preston stood, shaking hands with their guests. Just back of them sat
Miss Betsey in her best black silk dress, and dear Miss Jenny Ann in a
white silk gown, looking as young as any one of her girls. Between them
was little Alice. On the other side of Miss Betsey a stately old
gentleman smiled indulgently on the young people. Mr. John Randolph
could no longer have been mistaken for a ghost. A few days of cheerful
conversation with his old friends, good food and sunshine had revived
him wonderfully. Mrs. Preston explained to her friends that Mr. Randolph
had been living alone and, accompanied by his grand-daughter, had lately
come to make them a visit.
The four girls walked about the great room, receiving their visitors,
talking to them, trying to entertain them, doing everything in their
power to delay the dancing, in the vain hope that their friends would
still appear.
In answer to a nod from Mrs. Preston, Madge and Phil hurried to her
side. "It is time to begin the dance, dears," reminded Mrs. Preston. "I
am sorry that your friends have not arrived, but we can't disappoint our
other guests on their account. Tell Sam to begin with an old-fashioned
Virginia reel. It is the way we begin our dances down here in the
country."
Madge slipped out in the back hall. She noticed David standing alone
near the front door. He seemed shy and ill at ease. He did not know how
to dance, and it was hard to pretend to be cheerful when he had such a
load on his mind.
A loud ring at the front-door bell and a knock on the door startled
David. He went forward to open it, but a witch of a girl in a pale blue
flowered silk, her blue eyes dancing under her poke bonnet, flitted by
him. "Please let me open the door, David," she entreated. "I feel just
sure Tom and the other boys have come at last."
Tom Curtis stared blankly. Who was this lovely apparition that had
opened the old farmhouse door for him? Was he dreaming, or had he and
his friends strayed into the wrong house? There were the sounds of music
and strange boys and girls were about everywhere. Tom took off his hat.
With a familiar gesture he ran his fingers through his curly light hair,
making it stand on end. "Who is it, and where am I?" he asked feebly,
pretending to be overcome with emotion, like the hero in a romantic
play.
"Come into the house, Tom Curtis, this minute, and don't be a goose! You
know perfectly well I am Madge. Only to-night I am appearing in the
character of Miss Dolly Varden. We were giving you boys a surprise
party, but we were afraid you would not get here in time for it. Hello,
everybody!" Madge shook hands first with Tom, and then with the other
three boys. She then took Tom by one hand and her cousin, Jack Bolling,
by the other. With Harry Sears and George Robinson following her, she
escorted them proudly across the room to Mr. and Mrs. Preston. Lillian,
Phil and Eleanor hurried to join them, tendering the belated guests an
enthusiastic welcome.
"Here the young men are, at the last minute, Mrs. Preston," exclaimed
Madge triumphantly. "Now our dance can really begin."
Tom leaned over to whisper in Miss Dolly Varden's ear, "You'll dance
with me, won't you, Madge, for old time's sake?"
Madge nodded happily. "I have waited for you," she answered. "I felt
perfectly sure you wouldn't disappoint us."
Jack Bolling asked Phyllis to dance with him, Harry Sears and Lillian
were partners and Eleanor and George Robinson.
"Get your places for the Virginia reel!" Sam shouted.
Mr. and Mrs. Preston stood, each one of them at the head of a long line.
Miss Jenny Ann came next, with her partner, a man from the next farm.
The four girls were hurrying off with the motor launch boys when Madge
stopped suddenly. Old Mr. John Randolph smiled at her. It was hard not
to smile at Madge when she was happy.
The little captain whispered something in the old man's ear. "Do,
please," she urged, "it will be such fun."
Mr. Randolph rose and bowed low to Miss Betsey Taylor, with his right
hand over his heart in the manner of half a century ago. "Miss Betsey,
will you do me the honor to dance this reel with me?" he asked, almost
with a twinkle in his eye.
"My gracious, sakes alive!" exclaimed Miss Betsey nervously. "I haven't
danced in half a lifetime. I am sure my bones are much too stiff."
Nevertheless, frivolous Miss Betsey allowed her old admirer to lead her
to her place in the line.
"The Camels are coming, Ho, ho, ho, ho!
The Camels are coming from Baltimo',"
piped up Sam's orchestra, and jolly Mr. and Mrs. Preston swept down the
long line of the dancers with the energy of boy and girl.
David Brewster watched the scene for a minute from the open doorway. He
tried to still the feeling of jealousy that swept over him; but he could
not help but have a sore feeling in his heart. The girls, who had been
so friendly with him in the last few days, had forgotten his very
existence, now that the other boys had returned. Also, not one of the
motor boys had stopped to speak to him as they passed him in the hall.
Poor David!
Well, it was just as well that he had been forgotten for to-night, at
least, for he had work to do. Now was the appointed time for the return
of Miss Betsey's money and Mrs. Preston's silver. The servants were busy
downstairs; the guests were dancing. He would try to accomplish his
purpose.
[Illustration: David was Kneeling Before the Open Box.]
David slipped quietly up the steps and went into his own small room. The
Preston house was divided by a long hall, with four large bedrooms on
either side. David's room was on the same floor, but at the back of the
house. He dragged a big wooden box out from under his bed and silently
went to work to open it. He had already got together the tools that were
necessary for the purpose. The box lid came off and on top of a pile of
silver was Miss Betsey's money bag. It contained all the money that
David had been able to persuade the thief to leave behind him.
David emptied his own pockets of every cent he had earned from Tom
Curtis during the summer, and postponed the dearest ambition of his life
as he did it. Then he crept out into the hall--like a thief, he thought
bitterly. The hall was deserted--not even a servant in sight. It was the
work of a moment for David to slip into Miss Betsey's bedroom and place
her money bag under her pillow.
But to return the silver to the Prestons was a far more difficult
matter. The burglar, on the night of the fire, had swept the old
mahogany sideboard clean. He had taken away dozens of solid silver
knives, forks, spoons and some large, old-fashioned goblets. It was
impossible for David to return the silver to its rightful place in the
dining room. He gathered up a load in his arms and ran to the front
bedroom, where Mr. and Mrs. Preston slept. His cheeks were flaming from
shame and nervousness. He hated, with all the hatred of a passionate,
honest nature, the task he was engaged in, but he knew of no other way
to do what he believed to be right.
David made his first trip with the silver in safety. But there were
still a few pieces remaining in the box. He could hear the music and the
merry laughter downstairs. In a few seconds his task would be
accomplished. He would bear in silence whatever came afterward.
The lad was kneeling on the floor before the open box. He had just
reached down to gather the last handful of silver. His door was partly
open; in his hurry David neglected to close it.
"Hello, old chap! How are you?" a cheerful voice called out. Tom
Curtis's frank, friendly face appeared at the now open door. "I did not
have a chance to speak to you downstairs when I first came in, but Madge
sent me up here for her fan, and I thought I'd take a peep in here to
see if you could be found. What have you got there?" Tom stared with
open curiosity at David's box of silver; then he looked puzzled and
unhappy.
David had sprung to his feet with a muttered exclamation of anger.
Neither boy spoke for a moment. Some one was coming up the steps.
"Couldn't you find my fan, Tom? It is almost time for our dance,"
called Madge. "Why, here you are gossiping with David." Madge was now at
the open door. She, too, stared at the open box of silver. Then her face
turned white. "O David! what does it mean?" she pleaded. "I simply can't
believe my own eyes."