RETURN
“For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow——” the
Adventure Girls sang loudly if not well.
“And a hot cha cha!” Janet put in lavishly.
“That doesn’t fit,” Carol complained.
“I don’t care whether it does or not,” Janet said irrelevantly. “I’m
happy and I don’t care who knows it.”
“What is the reason?” Carol inquired suspiciously.
“Gale’s return,” Janet said promptly, a little too promptly.
The young people were gathered in the living room of the Howard home.
All the Adventure Girls were present. Gale had been back one week now
but they never refused any opportunity to have any sort of gala occasion
in honor of her return. There had been little gatherings and parties
ever since the plane that brought her back had landed at the Marchton
airport. Tonight, however, was devoted strictly to only the Adventure
Girls. They had demanded one night for their very own.
Now they all cocked a suspicious eye in Janet’s direction to seek the
cause of her extra-exuberant spirits. That young lady was deeply
involved in looking through the music on the piano. They had sung nearly
every piece there, but Janet was still seeking another to which to
devote their talents.
“See here,” Carol turned Janet squarely about, “confess all! What has
happened to you? You were in a glow all through English class this
afternoon and anything that can make you glow in that class is
colossal.”
“Is that so?” Janet scoffed.
“Is it a secret?” Madge asked hopefully from her position on the arm of
Phyllis’ chair, idly strumming her ukulele.
“Aren’t we your bestest pals? Don’t we tell you everything?” Carol
insisted. “Come on, Janet, what is it all about?”
Janet bent intently over a pile of music. “If you must know, Mark
Sherwin has asked me to the Senior Prom.”
“No!”
“Whoopee! He asks far enough ahead of time.”
“No wonder you were all smiles!” Carol declared. “So that is it! Your
hero!”
“He isn’t,” Janet said shortly. “He’s nice, he has ambition,” she added
loftily.
“Happy days are here again,” Carol said, whirling Janet around the room.
“Be quiet,” Janet complained. “You’re jealous,” she accused.
“Where is the dance to be held?” Phyllis wanted to know.
“At the Country Club,” Valerie put in. “I’m on the dance committee.”
“You are!” Madge echoed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Valerie laughed. “I didn’t know it myself until this afternoon. I had
almost forgotten it. Who are you going with, Phyl?”
“If I can go,” Phyllis said ruefully, “if my Aunt will let me, David
wants to take me, but I don’t know.”
“She still insists on keeping you out of Briarhurst?” Gale asked.
Phyllis nodded vigorously. “I suppose I shall go to Stonecliff and wear
a horrid uniform.”
“We must do something about that,” Janet said. “We won’t be separated,
Aunt or no Aunt!”
Phyllis laughed but she didn’t look as though she believed they could do
anything. She knew her Aunt better than any of them.
“Who is taking you to the prom, Gale?”
“I——”
“I’ll bet she can’t make up her mind,” teased Janet. “Which is it, Gale?
Bruce or Brent?”
“It is a secret,” Gale said promptly. “You shan’t any of you know until
you see me there.”
“Ah, that isn’t fair!” the others complained.
“But it will give you something to look forward to,” Gale laughed.
To tell the truth she didn’t know. Bruce might ask her. He usually took
her to the school dances but she—she wanted to ask Brent but she was a
little afraid. Afraid he would refuse and then she would be hurt. She
hadn’t seen much of him since her return to Marchton. He had gone to
Washington the day after and had not yet returned; if, she added to
herself, he intended to return.
When the others teased her she remained silent. A mysterious smile was
all the reply she would give them.
The girls gave no thought to the classes they would have tomorrow while
they were enjoying themselves and it was late when they finally bid Gale
a sleepy good night. After a little straightening up Gale crept away to
her own room but not to sleep. She brought out her books and tackled the
lessons which she found difficult. During her absence the classwork had
gone forward and now she was hard pressed to make up for lost time.
Soon, however, the pencil dropped from her fingers and she stared out
the window to where the winter moon floated easily through the clouds.
She thought of Antoinette and sighed. It had been very hard to part from
the French friends she had made. She missed the three in the little
Canadian cottage more than anyone knew. Especially she missed the sweet
friendly presence of the girl and her romps with Toto. She missed the
cold nights in the bright moonlight when she had tramped in the snow.
Here she could not go out walking when she felt like it. Her parents and
friends would think her insane if she should go for a walk late at
night. There would never be the same freedom here that there had been in
Canada for that short time.
Gale yawned and closed her history book. She could not cram another
sentence into her head tonight. Her eyes burned and felt heavy. She took
deep breaths of the cool air that drifted in the window but she did not
feel refreshed.
Upon a sudden decision she took her woolly coat from her closet and on
tiptoe crept into the hall and down the stairs. At every creak of the
steps she held her breath lest her Mother call her. She didn’t propose
to do anything wrong, but she felt she must get away from the house,
away from the books and studies that were becoming more and more
difficult, from the worry of her examinations which was beginning to
have a smothering effect on her.
Dry leaves rustled beneath her feet as she went down the path to the
street. There she turned in the direction of the bay. At the tiny wharf
she seated herself on a deserted soap box and gazed out over the gentle
swell of waves. A huge blot in the darkness was the island. Beyond that
lashed the heavy ocean waves. She could hear the roar of the surf even
at this distance. She sniffed appreciatively and felt the spell of
depression that had enveloped her lifting.
Suddenly she heard a sound in the stillness. It was a footfall and quite
abruptly a man was outlined against the line of water and sky as he
stood at the opposite end of the wharf from her. His figure was a mere
blot, indistinguishable. He carried a huge bag or box, Gale could not
determine which in the indistinct light. As she watched he set this down
at his feet and took a few steps along the edge, peering over into the
water.
Gale, in order to have a better point of vision, dropped from the wharf
into the rear seat of Bruce’s motor boat. She pulled a huge piece of
canvas over her and lay still, watching the shadow up above her through
a slit in the canvas. It had come to her suddenly that she had been
quite mad to come down to the shore at this hour. Burglars, smugglers,
anyone might be here. Even though she had never heard much of such
desperate characters in Marchton now, with the stranger standing
ominously in the shadows, her imagination pictured all sorts of crimes.
Footsteps approached and Gale hastily drew the canvas more fully over
her. A thud, and the boat rocked as another person took his position up
in the front at the wheel. A few minutes later and after several false
attempts, the motor broke into a roar that shattered the stillness of
the night like a roll of thunder.
Gale peered out and thought of making a wild dash for the safety of the
wharf but it was already too late. The shore was being rapidly left
behind. She glanced up at the prow. The man was leaning over, getting
every ounce of speed from the engine that was possible. Again Gale
mentally scolded herself for the foolhardy thing she had done. She
should never have come to the wharf; but in the second place, and now
more important, she should never have gotten into the boat. She was an
unwilling passenger of a strange pilot on a still stranger cruise.
At first she had thought the boat was headed out for the open sea but,
by discreetly raising her head for a glimpse into the darkness ahead,
she saw the pilot was heading straight for the island. What could he
want there? Gale had not been there since the day Brent left. It was
deserted as far as she knew. The club house which Brent had occupied
during his stay there was boarded up for the winter. What could he want?
The boat veered off sharply and chugged onto the shore. The prow grated
on the pebbly sand and Gale kept herself hidden until she was sure the
pilot had jumped clear and started up the beach. Then she raised herself
and looked after him. The dark figure was striding up toward the club
house.
Gale stood up and after some difficulty negotiated her way up to the
prow of the boat from where she could jump onto the sand. The water
lapped her shoes as she darted away from the boat and sprang up the
beach, keeping in the shadows out of sight of the stranger. She must see
what he was about. Her curiosity was aroused and a feverish interest to
keep the strange man and his doings in sight gripped her.
The figure ahead of her had approached the club house. He was working
with the door and she saw it give beneath his weight. A second later he
disappeared into the darkness within. She waited until a faint glimmer
of light came from between the boards on the windows and from beneath
the door. Then she crept forward. It was impossible to see into the room
between the boards and she was puzzled. She must find out what he was
doing in there! Cautiously she moved to the door. It was not latched,
merely pushed to a thin crack. Gently she began to move it open far
enough for her to see into the interior.
To the man inside the little club house, the slowly moving door was
sinister and threatening. Not a sound came to his ears; that is, no
human sound. He could hear the lapping of the water on the shore, could
hear the swish of a tree branch on the roof, but there was no indication
of another’s presence on the other side of the door.
He grasped a stout piece of wood which had originally been intended for
a fire log and advanced slowly. About five paces from the threshold he
halted and waited. The door had stopped moving. He could see nothing but
he sensed someone standing there, listening. Cautiously he stretched out
his hand and gave the door a sudden jerk inward. A girlish figure was
precipitated into the room at his feet.
“Oh!” Gale almost shrieked as a brown hand seized her own. Her heart
raced with terror until she saw his face.
“Brent!”
“Gale!”
The man flung aside his bit of firewood and helped her to her feet.
“You were almost crowned,” he declared laughing. “I thought a ghost of
an ancient pirate had risen to confront me.”
“And I thought you were a smuggler or something!” Gale admitted
laughingly. “I was going to protect our club house from any of your
nefarious schemes.”
“How did you get on the island?” he asked.
“I rode over in the boat—with you,” she explained and smiled at his
mystification. “I was hiding under the canvas in the stern.”
“Suppose I had been a burglar or something,” he admonished. “You would
be in a fine mess.”
“But I’m glad you aren’t,” she said. She swung herself up onto the table
and swung her legs out before her, regarding him with serious eyes. “But
what are you doing here at this hour?”
“Lady, you see a recently returned traveler seeking some place to lay
his weary head.”
“You came back to Marchton tonight?” she murmured. “Why didn’t you come
to our house?”
“It was too late to barge in upon anybody. I had the brilliant thought
of your club house and decided I would like to spend a night here again.
So here I am,” he finished.
“It is boarded up for the winter,” Gale said with a distasteful glance
around her at the dust and shuttered windows. “It isn’t very pleasant
now.”
“Never mind about me,” he declared. “Young lady, you explain what you
mean by running around at this hour of the night alone? You should be in
bed and asleep.”
Gale grimaced wryly. “I wasn’t sleepy and I felt like walking.”
He swung her down from the table. “Come along, I’ll take you home.”
“But you aren’t coming back here, are you?” she protested when she saw
he had left his traveling bag behind them in the club house.
“For tonight,” he said.
“But—but it is so cold and damp and—dangerous.”
He laughed. “Nonsense. I want to—I want to think about something and
this is a fine place for it. Tomorrow I’m going to the Ayres Hotel.”
Gale let her protests subside. For the ride over to the mainland she was
mostly silent. It was not until they stood at the gate to the Howard
yard that she asked the question that had been bothering her.
“Are you going to be in Marchton long?” she asked.
“Not so very long,” he answered. “You see, Gale, I’ve been offered a
position with the Transcontinental Air Line Company. It—it’s the chance
I’ve been waiting for.”
“I’m glad,” Gale said, even though in her heart she felt she wasn’t glad
because then she wouldn’t see him very often. “You will live in
Washington?” she heard herself asking.
“Yes.” It seemed as though he wanted to say something else but decided
not to. Instead he murmured, “Good night.”
But Gale stopped him. “Brent, I’d like to ask you—that is would you
mind—I mean, will you go to the Senior Prom with me?” Her words seemed
loud and brazen to her own ears. She couldn’t see him very well in the
shadows but she had the horrified notion he was laughing at her. And
what man in his position wouldn’t laugh? Not that he was so much older
than she—he couldn’t be more than twenty-three and she was almost
nineteen. It was just that she should have the cheek to ask him! She
felt like crying, “Don’t pay any attention to me. I know you won’t go. I
shouldn’t have asked,” when as if in a dream she heard him saying—
“That will be great, Gale. When is it?”
As Gale ran the short distance to the house she felt as though she were
treading on air. Her heart was soaring with ecstasy. It was a small
matter to creep upstairs, undress and get into bed without making a
sound. Once in bed she could give herself up utterly to dreams of that
gala night to come.