JACK’S STORY
As the real alarm subsided a tendency to withdraw “within themselves
and gloat over the whole delicious thrill” (from Pat’s pronouncement,)
was shamefully evident.
Tests and exams furnished a reasonable excuse, so far as loyalty to
Jack and the now idolized Gloria, was concerned, yet the interruptions
imposed by some of the most studious and dependable, seemed to threaten
traditions of Altmount and possibly shift the honors.
Gloria was determined to come out first in the English tests. Reading
under her father’s guidance from childhood, she had easily acquired an
advantage over the average student, and she felt confident now that her
essay would have a fair chance of winning first.
To send it to dad! To have him read his own thoughts, as he used to
give them to me! All his original ideas and his real pet theory of
woodland relations! She was working hour after hour upon the theme, and
it would be done in time. The contest would close in two days more and
when tests were over there would still be time for some extra polishing.
Then Jack’s accident interrupted.
And now, the evening after, Jack wanted to talk to her “all alone,”
Trixy said so.
“My own special thrill,” she replied to Trixy. “But I do hope it will
not be too secret to share with you--and Pat.”
“And Mary,” added Trixy. “You have no idea, Glo, what a girl Mary is.
I’m going to invite her out to Sandford with me after exams are over. I
believe we will have a week, and they houseclean while we are gone.”
“Well, I’ll run along to Jack,” Gloria said. “Somehow I sort of
hate----”
“Oh, you needn’t worry that she’ll gush over the heroic rescue,”
interrupted Trixy. “Jack is as sobered as if she had just dashed
through the rapids. There is, plainly, something worrying her. I hope
she won’t transfer the worry to you, little girl,” affection warmed the
sentence, “for I’m just as proud and a bit more proud of you than are
any of the others. After all, you are my own special little Gloria.”
The flushed cheek was pressed with Trixy’s eager lips and for a few
moments they became again the chums they used to be, before Altmount,
the fashionable boarding school, had imposed its estranging influence.
“Trixy,” breathed Gloria, “you do love me--a little?”
“A lot. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Oh, you know, I can’t forget Jean’s idea of a country girl!”
“Queer you do forget mine.” Another frank embrace from the “wonderful
girl born to gentility” was bestowed upon Gloria. “But run along to
Jack. We have posted signs to keep the coast clear, so improve the
shining moments. And oh, Gloria,” as her little friend attempted to
leave, “be careful to agree with her if you possibly can. The doctor
was none too sure of her condition.”
“I’ll promise everything but my one chum,” said Gloria, “and neither
Jack nor Mary can have her.”
“Nor my little Glo girl, either,” returned Trixy, still beaming her
affection. “Somehow, I’ll be rather glad to have her all to myself for
a little vacation. But aren’t we ‘crushy’?” laughed the older girl
affecting a foolish pose.
“As if something threatened to separate us.”
“Run along before I weep----”
“This time sure.”
When the door closed Trixy went over to Gloria’s dresser. As if
reflecting, uncertainly, she opened the drawer and drew out a little
Japanese basket. Removing the cover by its beaded tassel, she gazed
upon the largest and most noticeable article within. It was the string
of jade beads, sent anonymously to Gloria and which she had never worn.
“Could Jack have sent these?” she mused. “And yet----” A pause as she
fingered the dull gray green necklace. “If they are really genuine they
must be very valuable,” she reflected. “And they must have belonged
with the glittering trunk stuff that greeted Gloria’s arrival.”
She slipped the beads over her head and looked in the mirror.
“I’m glad I’m here with the little girl now,” she decided. “I’ve always
heard that the chief attraction at boarding school was the opportunity
of meeting girls from all parts of the country, but now I’m inclined to
think it is the opportunity of meeting all kinds of girls! Heigh-o!”
and the beads were slid back into the black Japanese basket with the
coral beads and brass rings. “There, I wonder if my little black beauty
will ever wear these?”
At Jack’s door Gloria was listening. Miss Taylor was just about to
leave and she greeted Gloria pleasantly.
“It’s lovely of you to come and sit with her for a few minutes,” she
said, “because I know you are working so hard on exams. I heard what a
fine outline you handed in to Miss Sanders.”
“Thanks,” said Gloria. “You know I love English, so it’s a pleasure to
work in Miss Sanders’ class.”
The little lady slipped away smiling. It was very evident she had faith
in the work Gloria was doing, and her manner clearly implied it was
very good work indeed.
But Jack was waiting.
“Gloria!” exclaimed Jack, before the girl just coming in had time to
offer her own greeting. “Gloria Doane, my rescuer!”
“Bosh!” flushed Gloria, hating the flame in her cheeks. “I had the best
swim ever. The best I’ve had since I came up here.”
“Oh, I know. You’re sure to duck compliments; all the same, you saved
little Jack’s useless life.”
“You would have drifted in----”
“Not possibly. The wind cut straight for the falls, and queer
thing--say, Glo,” she broke off, “sit down, do. Right here beside the
bed. I’m all set for a lot of whispering.”
This was Jack. She smiled the twisted little quirk that pinched from
the corners of her mouth, and her gray eyes showed some worth while
glints in spite of the doctor’s prescriptions.
“But a canoe is a safe floater, after all,” insisted the modest Gloria.
“You might even----”
“Have gone over the falls, and landed right side up with care. Hardly.
However, I knew you were there, I almost knew you were coming, that is,
I could feel rescue, and who, other than Gloria, would have come, so
promptly?”
Gloria slipped into the chair with an air of passivity. She was not
pretending to be modest, she felt foolish against the batter of a
compliment as if it pricked her sense of duty, for, she reasoned, who
would not have gone after that canoe just as she had done, if they felt
as secure in the water as she always felt?
“And that icy cold!” again Jack recalled.
“I’ve often done it in winter, just to show off.”
Jack beamed. Her admiration was no more pretense than was Gloria’s
modesty. The buttercup boudoir cap looked “sweet,” on Jack, and her
gray eyes were beginning to reflect the return of strength.
“Fancy my going off like that,” she complained. “But I have a long
story to tell you, Glowie, so I’d best brace up----”
“Don’t, please, if you feel the effort,” begged Gloria, actually
fearful. “They say hearts are the trickiest things when they get on a
rampage.”
“I know. But I’ve got to tell you some things, Gloria. I just can’t
have my stepmother come here,” began Jack with a brave effort. “She’s
all right, and as good as gold, when she isn’t crossed; but these
girls----”
“I know. I’ve felt the sting a little myself,” admitted Gloria. “You
see, I’m an out and out country girl, and green.”
“So was Joan of Arc, and a beauty at that,” broke in the sick girl.
“Now, I’m willing to own up to a fraud, I do pretend a lot just for the
fun of ‘stringing’ Jean and her crowd. They’re such sillies.” The scorn
that surrounded the term condoned its vulgarity. Gloria smiled her own
acquiescence. Jack continued:
“I’ll have to be very personal to make myself clear,” she said. “My
dad was a very rich man--a big business man.” As she paused Gloria
dismissed the term Pirate’s Daughter as belonging to Jack. A big
business man is hardly a pirate, that is not in the usual acceptance
of the term. Therefore, that trunk full of possible loot could hardly
have belonged to Jack. Neither could she have given Gloria the queer
necklace. Somehow she, Gloria, was conscious of relief with the
conviction.
“And he left me a lot of money,” went on Jack, neither pride nor
assurance tingeing the statement. “Well,” she sighed, “you see, he
married Steppy, sort of out of gratitude. She had nursed him through a
dangerous fever, and she didn’t save herself in the task either. Steppy
is a trump, but you see----” A conscious pause. Then, “You see, she
never had any chance of education and she has always associated with
rough people, but even that can’t hurt a kind heart, Gloria.” This was
a tribute and Gloria appreciated its value.
“Yes,” she agreed, “a good kind heart doesn’t depend on circumstances
nor upon education. Jane, she’s my near-mother, she always said,
kind hearts were all the angels left us when they ‘shooed’ us out of
paradise.”
“I guess so,” sighed Jack, abstractedly. “But I’ll have to hurry.” A
furtive glance at the door told why. “You see, when dad died he left my
fortune” (she smiled) “all nicely done up and parcelled out so I could
get a little package ever so often. And he gave Steppy all she will
ever need. There’s no trouble about that, but it seems, I should have
told you at the beginning, that Steppy is a little queer, has ideas
about buried treasures and all that. Why, I’ve seen her run up to a
strange girl and ask her where she got her string of beads! Imagine,
when the girl replied icily: ‘In the ten cent store, but they’re all
gone.’”
Both laughed. Gloria wondered what the woman might ask her if she ever
saw the smoky beads she secretly possessed.
“Well, you see,” continued Jack, her cheeks now glowing with suppressed
agitation, “Steppy insists dad had a buried treasure. It’s too long
and too foolish to go into, but I must explain that’s why she comes
down here and insists I go off with her, every now and again when she
unearths what she thinks is a clue. Isn’t that really childish?”
“But she may have an intelligent reason for her belief,” said Gloria,
always eager to assist the suspected.
“That’s it. Even our lawyer, (he’s a fine young fellow, a friend of
Miss Alton’s,) even he has been deceived. She is so convincing. But now
I guess we have dug the last hole. Our mountain place is as dug up as
a ground mole farm. That was what played me out. We had to go by the
mountain trail, and so of course, we rode.”
“I see,” said Gloria, recalling Trixy’s story of having come upon the
little rough rider troupe.
“Yes, I was determined to get back here today. It’s a secret, Glo, but
I do want to come out at least pretty good in the English contest.
That’s one branch I’m not stupid in and I have the darlingest lady
aunty in Manchester, N.H. I want to show her that Broncho Billy, Jacky
Corday has one civilized streak in her variegated make-up.”
“Oh, I’m interested in the contest too,” said Gloria, impulsively. “You
see, I’ve got a dad. He’s a darling man and quite a scientist, although
he is in business. He often has articles on nature studies published in
the magazines. And I’m just crazy to show him what I can do. He’s in
the Philippines now, that’s why I’m here.”
“Oh, to have a dad! Mine was--a wonderful man.” Gray eyes blinked and
the soft voice fell to a cadence.
“Well, at any rate,” chirped Gloria, endeavoring to bring the tempo
up to normal, “I’ll race you in the essay, Jack. How much have you
finished?”
Followed a brief discussion of the contest, which was being conducted
by the Forestry Association for pupils of private schools.
“It will close, you know, in two days more,” said Jack warningly. “Do
you suppose these old ladies around here will let me work tomorrow?”
“That might depend upon how well you rest to-night. I think
I had better----”
“Oh, I haven’t really told you what I especially wanted you for.” Jack
sat up straight and assumed the most confidential air. “I want you to
phone Steppy. Tell her you are my chum, and that you have just been
talking to me, and I’m perfectly all right. Oh, you know the bunk,”
(Jack was so like a boy at times,) “simply fix it so she won’t cut down
here and--and shock the gentle Jean.”
“Pity about Jean. If I might advise, Jack, I’d just let Jean and her
crowd--whistle!”
“If she only could! But can you see what a noise her lips would make?
Whistle! It would be a sizzle. Jean’s mouth is too sour to emit
anything really jolly. But anyhow, Glo, I do hope you can forestall
Steppy. Really, I couldn’t hardly cope with her myself--just now.”
“All right. I’ll do my best,” said Gloria taking the proffered phone
number.
“I knew I could depend upon you, and you won’t mind if I ask you to
keep it all to yourself?”
“I wouldn’t think of mentioning it.” Then Gloria remembered Trixy’s
frank recital of the morning’s encounter. How could she keep secret
from her its sequel? As if Jack divined the thought she said quickly:
“Of course, you may tell Trix. She’s a dear. And there’s Mary, but I
wouldn’t care to have her know. Gloria, have you ever seen a girl with
such a complete double personality as Mary?”
“I hadn’t noticed. How do you mean?”
“Well, she acts as demure as a kitten, and she’s--oh, I don’t know how
to express it, but she seemed like something done up in a case. Her
real character doesn’t show until some emergency pops up.”
“Oh, yes. I know she was wonderful today,” said Gloria. “But then,
a lot of the girls crawled out of their shells to take part in the
circus!”
“Circus?” Did Jack wince or just appear puzzled?
“I mean the wild canoe chase with a real rescued maiden and a poor
naked Indian half frozen. Oh, Jack! You missed the time of your life.
You should have seen them rubbing me down!”
Jack laughed lightly and any possible “circus clouds” were instantly
dispelled.
“Are you sure the old heart is behaving?” asked Gloria, now on her feet
and ready to leave.
“Be-u-ti-fully. You see, there is one thing I can do and that’s ride
a horse. Wait until you see my Omar. He’s simply a beauty. I won’t
say that he didn’t fly over the hills this morning.” A rueful little
smile explained the result. “But I don’t think that hurt my heart----”
finished Jack.
“No, I don’t either. You know, Jack, you have a weakness for walking
the gym ceiling----”
“Well,” a long drawn sigh, “if they’ll just let me scratch with a
fountain pen I’ll be satisfied now. I’ve got a wonderful idea in my
essay. You see--I’ve travelled a lot.”
“I think I have quite a good idea too,” said Gloria. “I’ve never
travelled far, but a day out of doors with my dad goes right into the
heart of nature, and I’ve had that experience.”
“Good luck, Glo, I can’t win first, but I want to make a good showing.
All the girls are keen on it.”
“Yes.” Gloria had heard nothing but contest for days and she also knew
the interest prevalent. “I’ll phone right away, or is this a good time?”
“Yes, I begged Miss Taylor not to write to Steppy till after supper so
you will head her off. It will cost a couple of dollars to phone but
don’t forget I’m rich, horribly, disgustingly rich, I believe.” After
a pause Jack said, “and just reverse the charge, Steppy will love to
pay it. Dad was always just as simple as--as any of his men, and I
guess I can have a good time without putting on airs, myself.” This
was distinctly Jack, the pout, the quirked smile and the final smack
of her rather boyish lips. “But do try, honey, to keep Steppy away.
When I’m well I can restrain her, but caged up here, I can just imagine
the girls waylaying her and she would be sure to give them the family
history unabridged.”
“I’ll do my best,” promised Gloria, getting out just in time to let
Miss Taylor enter.
The office phone was not safe enough to use for the private message, so
with Trixy and an evening walk as an excuse, Gloria started off for the
village to telephone Mrs. Philip Corday concerning the condition of her
stepdaughter, Jacquinot.
But Gloria had no conception of the enormity of the task assigned her.
Mrs. Corday was, by no means, an ordinary woman.