THE SPY
"That was bad luck. You really deserved to win that race, Gladys," Dolly
called out, as the _Defiance_ came within hailing distance of the
_Eleanor_ again.
Gladys looked at her old friend but said not a word. It was very plain
that the loss of the race, which she had considered already won, was a
severe blow to her, and she was not yet able, even had she been willing,
to say anything.
"That's very nice of you, Dolly," called Mary Turner. "But it isn't so
at all. You sailed your boat very cleverly. We didn't think of going off
after the wind until it was too late. I think it was mighty plucky of
you to keep on when we had such a big lead. Congratulations!"
"Oh, what's the use of talking like that?" cried Gladys, furiously. "It
was a trick--that was all it was! If we had had a real wind all the way,
we'd have beaten you by half a mile!"
"I know it, Gladys. It was a trick," said Dolly, cheerfully. "That's
just what I said. We'll have another race, won't we? And we'll pick out
a day when the wind is good and strong, so that it will be just the same
for both boats."
"Oh, you'd find some other trick to help you win," said Gladys, sulkily.
"Don't act like that--it's easy enough for you to be pleasant. They'll
all be laughing at me now for not being able to win when I had such a
lead."
"I'm ashamed of you, Gladys," said Mary Turner, blushing scarlet.
"Dolly, please don't think that any of the rest of us feel as Gladys
does. If I'd known she was such a poor loser, I wouldn't have let her
race with you at all. And there won't be another race, Gladys doesn't
deserve another chance."
"Gladys is quite right," said Dolly, soberly. "It's very easy to be nice
and generous when you've won; it's much harder to be fair when you've
lost. And it was a trick, after all."
"No, it wasn't, Dolly," said Eleanor, seriously. "It was perfectly fair.
It was good strategy, but it wasn't tricky at all. Gladys knew just as
much about the wind as you did. If she had done as you did in time,
instead of waiting until after she'd seen you do it, she would have won
the race."
"We're going to have trouble with that Gladys Cooper yet," said Margery.
"She's spoiled, and she's got a nasty disposition to start with, anyhow.
You'd better look out, Dolly, She'll do anything she can to get even."
"I think this race was one of the things she thought would help her to
get even," said Bessie. "She was awfully sure she was going to be able
to beat you, Dolly."
"I almost wish she had," said Dolly. "I don't mean that I would have
done anything to let her win, of course, because there wouldn't be any
fun about that. But what's an old race, anyhow!"
"That's the right spirit, Dolly," said Eleanor. "It's the game that
counts, not the result. We ought to play to win, of course, but we ought
to play fair first of all. And I think that means not doing anything at
all that would spoil the other side's chances."
"Oh, that's all right," said Margery, "but I'm glad we won."
"I'm glad," said Dolly. "And I'm sorry, too. That sounds silly, doesn't
it, but it's what I mean. Maybe if Gladys had won, we could have patched
things up. And now there'll be more trouble than ever."
While they talked they were furling the _Eleanor's_ sails, and soon
they were ready to go ashore. Dolly had brought them up cleverly beside
the skiff, and, once the anchor was dropped and everything on board the
swift little sloop had been made snug for the night, they dropped over
into the skiff and rowed to the beach. There the other girls, who had
been greatly excited during the race, and were overjoyed by the result,
greeted them with the Wo-he-lo song. Zara, especially, seemed delighted.
"I felt so bad that I cried when I thought you were going to be beaten,"
she said. "Oh, Bessie, I'm glad you won! And I bet it was because you
were on board."
Bessie laughed.
"You'd better not let Dolly hear you say that," she said. "I didn't have
a thing to do with it, Zara. It was all Dolly's cleverness that won that
race."
"I'm awfully glad you're back, Bessie. I've had the strangest feeling
this afternoon--as if someone were watching me."
Bessie grew grave at once. Although she never shared them, she had grown
chary of laughing at Zara's premonitions and feelings. They had been
justified too often by what happened after she spoke of them.
"What do you mean, dear!" she asked. "I don't see how anyone could be
around without being seen. It's very open."
"I don't know, but I've had the feeling, I'm sure of that. It's just as
if someone had known exactly what I was doing, as long as I was out here
on the beach. But when I went into the tent, it stopped. That made me
feel that I must be right."
"Well, maybe you're mistaken, Zara. You know we've had so many strange
things happen to us lately that it would be funny if it hadn't made you
nervous. You're probably imagining this."
Though Bessie tried thus to disarm Zara's suspicions, she was by no
means easy in her own mind. She felt that it would be a good thing to
induce Zara to forget her presentiment, or feeling, or whatever it was,
if she could. But, just the same, she determined to be on her guard, and
she spoke to Dolly.
"She's a queer case, that Zara," said Dolly, with a little shiver. "If
any other girl I knew said anything like that, I'd just laugh at her.
But Zara's different, somehow. She seems sort of mysterious. Perhaps
it's just because she's a foreigner--I don't know."
"I spoke to you so that we could be on the lookout, Dolly. And I guess
we'd better not say anything to anyone else. I think a lot of the girls
would laugh at Zara if they knew that she had such ideas."
Bessie and Dolly managed to find occasion to cover most of the beach
before supper, and they went up to the spring at the top of the bluff
that overlooked the beach. The water had been piped down, and there was
no longer any need of carrying pails up there to get water, but it was
still a pleasant little walk, for the view from the top of the path was
delightful. And Bessie and Dolly remembered, moreover, that it was there
that the men who had watched the camp on the night of the fire had
hidden themselves. But this time they found no one there.
Supper was a merry meal. The race of the afternoon was, of course, the
principal topic of conversation, and in addition there were adventures
to be told by those who had missed it and gone into Bay City to shop.
But Bessie, watching Zara, noticed toward the end of the meal that her
strange little friend, who happened to be sitting near the entrance of
the tent in which they ate, was nervous and kept looking behind her out
into the darkness as if she saw something. And so, with a whispered
explanation to Dolly, she rose and crept very silently toward the door.
As she passed Zara, she let her hand fall reassuringly on her shoulder,
and then, gathering herself, sprang out into the night.
And, so completely surprised by her sudden appearance that he could not
get out of the way, there was Jake Hoover! Jake Hoover, who was supposed
to be in the city, telling his story to Charlie Jamieson! Jake Hoover,
who, after having done all sorts of dirty work for Holmes and his
fellow-conspirators, had told Bessie that he was sorry and was going to
change sides!
"Jake!" said Bessie, sternly. "You miserable sneak! What are you doing
here!"
No wonder poor Zara had had that feeling of being watched. Jake's work
for Holmes right along had been mostly that of the spy, and here he was
once more engaged in it. Bessie was furious at her discovery. Big and
strong as Jake was, he was whimpering now, and Bessie seized him and
shook him by the shoulders.
"Tell me what you're doing here right away!" commanded Bessie. Gone were
the days when she had feared him--the well-remembered days of her
bondage on the Hoover farm, when his word had always been enough to
secure her punishment at the hands of his mother, who had never been
able to see the evil nature of her boy.
"I ain't doin' no harm--honest I ain't, Bessie," he whined. "I--jest
wanted--I jest wanted to see you and Miss Mercer--honest, that's why I'm
here!"
"That's a likely story, isn't it?" said Bessie, scornfully. "If that was
so, why did you come sneaking around like this? Why didn't you come
right out and ask for us? You didn't think we were going to eat you, did
you?"
"I--I didn't want them to know I was doin' it, Bess," he said. "I'm
scared, Bessie--I'm afraid of what they'd do to me, if they found out I
was takin' your side agin' them."
Despite herself, Bessie felt a certain pity for the coward coming over
her. She released his shoulder, and stood looking at him with infinite
scorn in her eyes.
"And to think I was ever afraid of you!" she said, aloud.
"That's right, Bess," he said, pleadingly. "I wouldn't hurt you--you
know that, don't you? I used to like to tease you and worry you a bit,
but I never meant any real harm. I was always good to you, mostly,
wasn't I?"
"Dolly!" called Bessie, sharply. She didn't know just what to do, and
she felt that, having Jake here, he should be held. It had been plain
that Charlie Jamieson had considered what he had to tell valuable.
"Hello! Did you call me, Bessie?" said Dolly, coming out of the tent.
"Oh!"
The exclamation was wrung out of her as she saw and recognized Jake.
"So he's spying around here now, is he?" she said. "I told you he was a
bad lot when you let him go at Windsor, didn't I? I knew he'd be up to
his old tricks again just as soon as he got half a chance."
"Never mind that, Dolly. Tell Miss Eleanor he's here, will you, and ask
her to come out! I think she'd better see him, now that he's here."
"That's right--and, say, tell her to hurry, will you?" begged Jake. "I
can't stay here--I'm afraid they'll catch me."
Dolly went into the tent again, and in a moment Eleanor Mercer came out.
She had never seen Jake before, but she knew all about him for Bessie
and Zara had told her enough of his history for her to be more intimate
with his life than his own parents.
"Good evening, Jake," she said, as she saw him. "So you decided to talk
to us instead of to Mr. Jamieson? Well, I'm glad you're here, I'll have
to keep you waiting a minute, but I shan't be long. Stay right there
till I come back."
"Yes, ma'am," whined Jake. "But do hurry, please, ma'am! I'm afraid of
what they'll do to me if they find I'm here."
Eleanor was gone only a few minutes, and when she returned she was
smiling, as if at some joke that she shared with no one.
"I'm sure you haven't had any supper, Jake," she said. "The girls have
finished. See, they're coming out now. Come inside, and I'll see that
you get a good meal. You'll be able to talk better when you've eaten."
Jake hesitated, plainly struggling between his hunger and his fear. But
hunger won, and he went into the tent, followed by Bessie and Dolly,
who, although the service was reluctant on Dolly's part, at least, saw
to it that he had plenty to eat.
"Just forget your troubles and pitch into that food, Jake," said
Eleanor, kindly. "You'll be able to talk much better on a full stomach,
you know."
And whenever Jake seemed inclined to stop eating, and to break out with
new evidences of his alarm, they forced more food on him. At last,
however, he was so full that he could eat no more, and he rose
nervously.
"I've got to be going now," he said. "Honest, I'm afraid to stay here
any longer--"
"Oh, but you came here to tell us something, you know," said Eleanor.
"Surely you're not going away without doing that, are you?"
"I did think you'd keep your word, Jake," said Bessie, reproachfully.
"I can't! I've got to go, I tell you!" Jake broke out. His fright was
not assumed; it was plain that he was terrified. "If they was after you,
I guess you'd know--here, I'm going--"
"Not so fast, young man!" said a stern voice in the door of the tent,
and Jake almost collapsed as Bill Trenwith, a policeman in uniform at
his back, came in. "There you are, Jones, there's your man. Arrest him
on a charge of having no means of support--that will hold him for the
present. We can decide later on what we want to send him to prison for.
He's done enough to get him twenty years."
Jake gave a shriek of terror and fell to the ground, grovelling at the
lawyer's feet.
"Oh, don't arrest me!" he begged. "I'll tell you everything I know.
Don't arrest me!"
"It's the only way to hold you," said Trenwith. "You've got to learn to
be more afraid of us than of Holmes."