WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DIXONS’
Osceola looked at Bill. “I think,” he said slowly, “the best thing you
and I can do right now, Bill, is to get into some clothes.”
Bill nodded. “Good idea! Socks and shoes will make a particular hit with
me. If the soles of my feet aren’t cut to ribbons, they certainly feel
as if they were!”
Dorothy, tight-lipped, arms akimbo, glared at them in disgust. “Well!
You certainly are an energetic pair!” Her eyes fairly snapped with
scorn. “Deborah’s fiance and his best friend see her kidnapped under
their very noses, and then decide the best thing to do is to get
dressed! My word—you make me sick—”
Osceola gave the angry girl one look, shrugged his shoulders and walked
silently downstairs. The front door slammed, and Bill turned on her.
“Well, that was a very pretty exhibition, I don’t think,” he began.
“Oh, go home and put on a necktie!” she retorted savagely. “Oh, _dear_,
how can you boys—when—” She broke off and burst into tears.
“How could _you_ deliberately torture that splendid chap—I had no idea
you could be so cruel, Dorothy. Why, Osceola’s the salt of the earth and
you know it. He was too much of a gentleman to tell you what a little
idiot you are, but I’m not!”
“Is that so!” With a quick gesture, she brushed away the tears and took
a step toward him. “If Osceola is such a paragon, why doesn’t he light
out and find Deb? He’s supposed to be in love with her, isn’t he?”
“He _is_ in love with her, and that is what makes the things you said to
him so brutal!”
“Then how can he waste his time—and that goes for you too—in silly
chatter—why not start something—”
“Yes? and what—”
“Action’s what’s needed, and spelled with a capital A!”
Bill smiled crookedly. “And what kind of action, spelled with a capital
A, do you suggest?”
“I’ve heard that he can trail anything that runs. Those men had to leg
it out of here. Why doesn’t he follow them, for heaven’s sake, if he’s
such a star at that sort of thing?”
“My dear young lady, Osceola has been three jumps ahead of you all the
time. He knows that those tracks will only lead through your grounds out
to the road. I don’t know where you got your ideas of trailing but no
man, red, white, black or yellow, can follow another’s trail on an
automobile highway. Dirt roads are one thing, tar or solid concrete are
something else again!”
Dorothy looked discomfited. “I never thought of that,” she said.
“You see, Osceola doesn’t know where to turn next. Neither do I, and for
a matter of fact, neither do you.”
For a moment she stared at him and Bill braced himself for a flood of
tears. Instead she ran to him and caught his arm.
“Bill—I’m so darned sorry—I—”
“Oh, never mind—that’s all right,” he said gruffly, embarrassed by her
contrition.
She shook her head. “But it isn’t all right. I’m going to slip into some
beach pajamas, then I’m going straight over to your house and tell him
just what a pig I really am!”
“There’s no need of that, kid. He wants cheering up, all right, but
he’ll be back here soon to give me a chance to run over and put on some
duds.”
“But what’s the idea—”
“You don’t think we’re going to leave you alone tonight after what’s
happened?”
“But I’m not scared. Those men won’t come back again, not tonight,
anyway.”
“Maybe they won’t, but there’s no sense in taking chances. Go into your
room and dress if it will make you feel more comfortable. We can talk
through the door. I want to know exactly what happened before you
telephoned me.”
“All right. Wait and I’ll pass out a chair. If you’re as tired of
standing as I am, you’ll need it.”
She went into the bedroom and came out with a wicker armchair in tow.
“By the way,” she said suddenly, “why do you suppose those men picked on
us? One of them was the big Russian who lost his silver dollar and
kicked up such a fuss about it.”
“That,” answered Bill, “is one of the things I’m not sure about. In
fact, I haven’t had time to put my mind on it.”
“You don’t think they came back for that pocket-piece?”
“Hardly that. There’s a whole lot behind this business that we aren’t
onto yet.”
“Well, what’s your idea?”
“If you must have it, I’m beginning to believe that we’ve come into
contact with a gang whose tokens or badges of membership are the
numbered, winged cartwheels. And the gang is undoubtedly a large one. We
know that there are at least fifty-seven of them.”
“Gee!” Dorothy looked startled. “Really, Bill? But why under the sun do
these cartwheelers pick on Deborah?”
“Of course, I haven’t the dimmest idea what these fellows are up to. But
seeing what took place last night over at my house, I’ve got a hunch
that they think either Osceola or I are wise to what _is_ going on. You
two girls, after this morning’s experience, are probably the only two
persons who have seen members of the gang, knowing them to be just that.
Therefore, it’s quite on the cards that they want to put you both safely
away where you won’t be able to identify those two until they’ve pulled
off their big stunt—whatever that may be. Of course, I may be all wrong,
but up to now we’ve had next to nothing to go on except those dollars!”
Dorothy looked at him admiringly. “I always knew you had a head on your
shoulders, Bill.” She shut the door to her room.
“Better turn off the water in your bath tub,” Bill called after her.
“And don’t forget I want your dope on tonight.”
“I won’t—just give me a chance,” her muffled voice came back to him.
“Gosh, but this room is a mess!”
Bill set the chair just outside her door and sat down. He was tired and
he wanted to think, but Dorothy didn’t give him much opportunity to do
so.
“Can you hear me?” He guessed she was standing near the door.
“Perfectly,” he replied.
“Well, here’s the tale and there isn’t much to it. After you two went
home this evening, Deb and I came upstairs. We got undressed and then
went into her room, just across the hall from mine. I guess we talked
for about an hour. She was telling me—oh, about this and that—whatever
we talked about has nothing to do with what happened later.” Her voice
grew fainter as she moved to another part of the room, but Bill could
still hear her well enough. “After that I came back here. When Daddy’s
away, I always lock my door, and it’s a mighty lucky thing I did
tonight. I probably wouldn’t be talking to you now if I’d left it open.
Deb locked hers, too, but it’s a warm night, and after I was in bed I
heard her open it. I thought it might be a good idea to get more air
myself, but the breeze was blowing in at this side of the house, and I
was too lazy to get up. While I was thinking about it, I must have
fallen asleep.
“Well, the next thing I knew, I heard Deb scream. Then I heard her
shout—‘They’ve got me, Dorothy—phone Osceola!’ She knew I had an
extension in my room, of course. She didn’t call again, and I figured
someone had slugged her. The phone is right by my bed, but it took an
awful time to get central. I could have killed that girl by the time she
said ‘Number, please’ ... then when I gave her yours, it seemed an age
before you answered. Then when we were cut off, I guessed that one of
the thugs had cut the wires. Somebody tried my door, and I ran over to
the bureau and got my little automatic. I was scared silly, but I knew
you and Osceola would soon be here, so that helped a lot. I was just
starting for the door, when the strangest thing happened. I heard the
key turn in the lock and before I could do anything to stop it, the door
was pushed open.”
“Wait a mo. Yes, the key sticks out about an eighth of an inch on this
side. They must have got hold of it with a pair of pincers.”
“So that’s it! I couldn’t imagine—well, let me tell you, the sight of
that key turning in the lock all by itself gave me the creeps!”
“What did you do when the door opened?”
“I started right in firing—of course I didn’t know what I was shooting
at, but for a few minutes I had ’em buffaloed, I guess. Suddenly they
made a rush. I fired once more, then beat it for the window and went
through it—” She opened the door and came into the hall, clad now in a
simple white linen dress. Bill saw that she had put on a pair of white
tennis shoes and socks.
“Well, you’re some quick dresser—” he got up from the chair.
Dorothy smiled and made him a little bow. “And I timed it nicely, didn’t
I? Just to the end of my speech—”
“You certainly made a dramatic entrance. Say—there’s the door bell—”
“Osceola?”
“Sure to be. I’ll cut along now and leave him to your tender mercies.
See you later.” With a wave of his hand, he left her standing in the
hall and ran swiftly down the stairs.