UNCERTAINTY
In spite of their own entire conviction the story told the next day by
Polly and Betty to the various members of the Ashton household was
received with little credulity. Even Mrs. Ashton was inclined to be
skeptical after finding that nothing in the big house had been stolen
or even disarranged. There was no window that had been pried open and
no door left unlocked. Then why, even if the robber had entered the
house by some mysterious process of his own, had he gone away again
empty-handed? There were many pieces of valuable silver in the lower
part of the establishment, pictures, even single ornaments that could
be sold for fair sums of money. Therefore why climb to the second
story and enter the girls' room first?
Although Betty and Polly were too deeply offended by the suggestion to
allow it to be freely discussed, Miss McMurtry's idea that they had had
a kind of sympathetic nightmare, or at least a mutual hallucination,
was the most commonly accepted theory. It was an extremely annoying
point of view to both the girls, of course, but as they had nothing to
disprove it, they were obliged after several futile arguments to let
the matter rest. Naturally their Camp Fire friends were delightfully
thrilled by the anecdote, but as it was always received either with
open or carefully concealed disbelief, after a few days neither Polly
nor Betty cared to speak of it except to each other.
There was one person, however, who, whether or not he believed the
truth of their story, at least accepted it with extreme seriousness.
And it was to him that Polly O'Neill made a determined effort to be the
first narrator of their experience.
Anthony Graham was in the habit of getting up earlier than any one else
in the Ashton house and had of course disappeared hours before either
of the girls awakened the morning after their nearly sleepless night.
However, he was accustomed to returning to his small room in the third
story at about half-past five o'clock every afternoon, when his work
for the day was over, in order to change his clothes for the evening.
So at about this time Polly found it convenient to be in the hallway
leading to his room and to be there alone.
As he walked toward her unconscious of her presence, in spite of her
prejudice against him she could not fail to see how much the young man
had improved. He was hardly recognizable as the boy with whom they had
had the encounter in the woods a little more than a year before. He
was shabby enough and as lean as a young animal that has had too much
exercise and too little food. His face was serious, almost sad;
nevertheless Polly had no intention of not pursuing her investigation.
She had seated herself on a narrow window ledge and was presumably
peering out at the trees in the garden.
As he caught sight of her the young man started with a perfectly
natural surprise. For although Polly had been in the same house with
him now for a number of weeks, they had not seen each other more than
half a dozen times and had only talked together once when Betty had
made a point of introducing them as though they had never met before.
Perhaps some recollection of their original coming together was in
Anthony's memory, for he blushed a kind of dull brick red, when Polly,
turning deliberately from her window seat, said: "Mr. Graham, I wonder
if you would mind giving me a minute of your time. There is something
I wish to tell you."
"Certainly," he answered and then stood fingering his hat in the same
awkward fashion that he had employed in his Thanksgiving visit to
Betty, yet regarding the girl herself with a totally different
sensation.
For instinctively Anthony Graham recognized that Polly O'Neill was or
might become his enemy. Not that she would do him any wrong, but that
if ever he was able to set out to accomplish the desire of his heart,
the weight of her influence and feeling would be against him. And he
did not underestimate the compelling power of a nature like Polly's.
She was wayward, high tempered, sometimes appearing unreliable and
almost unloving. Yet this last fact was never true of her. It was
only that her personality was of the kind that can want but one thing
at a time with all the passion and force of which it is capable. And
pursuing this desire, she might seem to forget her other impulses.
Polly, however, never did put aside her few really vital affections.
She and Betty Ashton might quarrel, might continue to disagree as they
had so often done in the past; yet Betty's welfare and happiness would
always be of intense concern to her friend. More because of the
quality of her imagination than from any single witnessed fact, Polly
had lately suspected that Anthony might learn to care more for her
friend than would be comfortable for anybody concerned in the affair.
And undoubtedly the young man had once been a thief if intention
counted. Therefore he might be a thief again, and in any case probably
needed to be forewarned of a number of things.
"There was a burglar in our room last night," Polly began, wasting no
time in preliminaries, but keeping her blue eyes fixed so directly upon
Anthony's that they were like blue flames.
Even before he could reply the young man wondered how there could be
people who thought this girl beautiful or even pretty. It was true
that at times her eyes were strangely magnetic, that her hair was
always black with that peculiar almost dead luster, and her lips like
two fine scarlet lines. Yet she was always too thin, her chin too
pointed and her cheekbones too high to touch any of his ideals of
beauty.
"I--I am sorry. That is--what _do you mean_?" the young fellow
stammered stupidly. And all at once the scowl gathered upon his face
that Betty Ashton had once misunderstood. It was a black, ugly look,
and in this case certainly was inspired by the impression that because
of his former misdeed, Polly might now be suspecting him of another.
And she left him no room for doubt.
"Oh, I am not exactly accusing you," she remarked coolly, "for I
presume that would hardly be fair. But I am not going to pretend that
I feel as much confidence in you as I do in the people against whom I
know nothing. I can't. Perhaps I may some day when you have made
good, but it is a little too soon to expect it of me, as I am not an
idealist like some girls. So last night, though we did not have any
reason to suspect that the person who entered our room and then stole
out again without our ever really seeing him or her had anything to do
with you, I must confess I did think of you. Because, though it is
just as well not to talk about it, there is no question but that the
intruder was already living in this house. No one came in from the
outside. So you see it is like this: I don't begin to say that it was
you, but I am going to be on the watch and it is just as fair to warn
you openly as to suspect you in secret. Then there is another thing.
Personally I don't believe we had a ghostly visitant, as Betty is
inclined to think because of the mystery of that particular room. So
suppose we take it for granted that you had nothing to do with our
experience, then will you help Betty and me to find out who or what it
was? We do not want to create too much disturbance over it."
Just how many varying emotions had passed through Anthony Graham's mind
during Polly's amazing speech, it would be difficult to express. He
was bitterly angry of course, deeply wounded and resentful, and yet he
could not but have a certain respect for the girl's outspokenness, for
her kind of brutal courage. Certainly he was given notice not to
repeat his offense, if offense he had committed. And as proof of his
own innocence it might be as wise for him to discover the real offender.
Anthony kept a hold on himself by a fine effort of self-control. The
truth was that he and Polly O'Neill were not altogether unlike in
disposition, and he had a temper and a will to match with hers.
Notwithstanding, he appreciated that this was not the occasion for
revealing weakness.
Therefore he merely bowed with such quiet courtesy that Polly was
secretly astonished.
"You are unfair in suspecting me of having violated Mrs. Ashton's
confidence simply because I once tried to commit a theft. Though of
course I know that most people would feel just as you do. Does
Betty--does Miss Ashton----" he inquired.
Polly frowned. "No," she responded curtly.
"Then will you tell her, please, that you have confided what has
happened to me and that I will do my best to ferret out the mystery."
And Anthony walked past and into his own room, closing the door
noiselessly behind him.
With a shrug of her thin shoulders Polly stood for another moment
regarding the shut door. "I am sorry to say it, but he has behaved a
great deal better than I expected," she thought to herself with a smile
at her own expense.