The Mystery of Arnold Hall

by Helen M. Persons

  CHAPTER XVIII A WEEK END

  "Craig!" exclaimed Patricia, smiling up at the lanky youth. "Fancy seeingyou here! And what are you doing?"

  "Here on business," was the brief response, as he shook Patricia's handenthusiastically.

  "These are my friends--Anne Ford, Jane Temple, and Katharine Weldon,"continued Patricia, "who are spending the week end with me."

  Acknowledging the introduction, Craig looked inquiringly at Patricia."May I sit down here and have my sweet with the Sweets."

  "We couldn't possibly refuse after such a 'sweet' compliment as that,"laughed Patricia. "How long are you going to be in town?"

  "Well, that depends. If I find what I'm looking for, I'll go back almostimmediately; if I don't, I'll go Sunday afternoon, anyhow."

  "How interesting and mysterious you sound!" remarked Katharine.

  "Reporting's a great game. Now tell me about yourselves," leaning bothelbows on the table and looking from one girl to another. With flatteringattention the boy listened to the story of their drive home; gave acouple of short barks of amusement at their movie experience, theninquired what they intended to do on the morrow.

  "Shop in the morning," replied Patricia. "I always do the Sundaymarketing when I'm home. I just love to poke around the stores and buythings. In the afternoon--I really don't know yet."

  "How would it be if you all went to the ball game with me?" proposedCraig, carefully rubbing a drop of chocolate sauce off of his tie.

  "Grand! But you'd be embarrassed to death escorting four females,"laughed Patricia.

  "Don't you believe it. I'd be the proudest fellow in the stand, and themost envied. That's settled then," as all the girls manifested theirpleasure in the plan. "I'll call for you at two o'clock," he added, asthey rose to go. "I'd offer to see you home, but I suppose you have yourcar?"

  "Yes; it's in a parking station. Why don't we meet you at the Parktomorrow afternoon instead of your going way out to our house?"

  "Not a bad idea, especially as I haven't the least idea where you live."Everybody laughed.

  "97 Minton Road, in case you ever need to know," said Patricia, smilingfrankly up into the brown eyes and serious face above her.

  "Thanks," he said, making a note of the address. "Wait a minute," headded, taking hold of her arm and steering her toward a candy counter."Make up five pounds of the kinds selected," he directed the prim clerkwho came to take his order. Then, waving off the girls' thanks, he wasgone.

  "Shall we each choose our favorites, to make up one-quarter of the box?"asked Patricia, turning to the other girls.

  "Fine; and in quarter-or half-pound lots, so as to get variety," saidKatharine; and they all assented.

  It was rather late when the girls finally reached home, but they settleddown before the living room fireplace with the box of candy, and regaledMr. and Mrs. Randall with chocolates and the story of their adventures.Mr. Randall finally drove them off to bed shortly after midnight.

  "I'm going to stay in the car," announced Katharine the next morning,when Patricia drew up in front of a large department store in the grocerydepartment of which she intended to make several purchases. "I don't carefor marketing, and I do love to watch people hurrying along the streets."

  "As you like it," replied Patricia, getting out, followed by Anne andJane.

  "Can you park here?" inquired Jane in surprise, as Patricia slammed thedoor.

  "Not really supposed to, but I won't be long; and I hardly think there'llbe any trouble."

  "I'll entertain the cop," offered Katharine magnanimously, "if he showsup."

  She had been watching the crowd for about ten minutes, when she noticed abig, red-faced policeman approaching, his eyes fixed indignantly upon thecar in which she was sitting.

  "Now I'm in for it!" she thought. "Why in time doesn't Patricia come?She's been gone an age."

  "You can't park here, lady," said the officer sternly. "Can't you read?"pointing to the No Parking sign.

  "No, sir," replied Katharine demurely.

  "You can't!" exclaimed the man in surprise

  "Not a word!" was the reply, and Katharine looked innocently at him.

  "What nationality are you?"

  "American, sir."

  The officer pushed back his hat in perplexity. He felt that something waswrong, but could not quite put his finger on it. With all our money spenton schools, and this young woman couldn't read.

  "Well, anyhow, whether you can read or not, you can't park here."

  "But this isn't my car, and I can't drive."

  "Where _is_ the owner?"

  "In there," pointing to the store. "She'll be out in just a minute. Ithink she went in to buy--oranges."

  "Well, if she isn't out by the time I come around again, she gets a tag;and that's flat!"

  Wrathfully the officer strode on, and Katharine sank back comfortablyagainst the cushions again. Five minutes passed; ten; and still no signsof Patricia. Katharine began to fidget nervously and wish she had goneinto the store with the girls. Still, if she had, the car would have beentagged at once; even now perhaps she could stave the man off again if hecame around before Pat got back.

  There he was, striding along as if he meant business! "I wish Pat and heroranges were in Hades," thought Katharine, preparing to smile sweetly atthe irate officer.

  "She hasn't come yet," she said, leaning out of the window and speakingconfidentially. "Something must have happened to her. I'm _so_ worried.What ought I to do, do you think?"

  Momentarily disarmed by the unexpected greeting, the man removed his hatand scratched his head. Then suddenly realizing that he was being worked,he snapped:

  "What _could_ happen to her except that, like all other women, she has nonotion of time! This car's been here half an hour now. I suppose shecan't read either!"

  "It's been here only twenty-five minutes, officer," corrected Katharine,showing him her watch.

  "So you can tell time, even though you can't read," commented theofficer, rather admiring the girl's poise despite his annoyance.

  "Well, you see," began Katharine, resting both arms on the opened window,"when I was a little girl--(if I can only keep him interested until Patcomes!)--I was--" She broke off to gesticulate madly to her friends whowere just coming out of the store.

  The policeman wheeled sharply and saw three girls racing madly towardhim. Just as Pat reached the car, the bag she was carrying broke, and adozen oranges rolled in all directions.

  "There!" cried Katharine triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you she just wentin to get some oranges?"

  What could the man do but help gather up the fruit and toss it into thecar? Scarlet with exertion and embarrassment at the comments ofpassers-by, he finally faced Patricia sternly.

  "Lady, you've been parked here half an hour, right under that sign. Can't_you_ read either?"

  "Why, yes, a little," replied Patricia, with a suspicious glance atKatharine. "But those signs are placed so high that if you're in a lowcar, you really have an awful time seeing them at all. You can see foryourself that this one is directly over the top of the car. Get in andsee."

  "Of course it is if you drive directly under it!" grumbled the man. "Andthe next time I see this car where it doesn't belong, it gets a tag rightaway; whether your passengers can't read, or you think the signs are toohigh, or--or anything else."

  "Thanks for your patience, and assistance," replied Patricia, smiling athim in such a friendly fashion that he had a hard time maintaining hisexpression of outraged dignity. He was still a bit doubtful as to whetheror not the girls were making fun of him. These women!

  "Goodbye," called the irrepressible Katharine, as Patricia stepped intothe car and started the engine. "Hope I meet you again sometime."

  The officer strode away without comment, while Katharine reported herencounter to the girls.

  "I'm an absolute wreck!" she declared in an injured tone, as hercompanions laughed heartlessly. "I'l
l never keep car for you again."

  "Your own choice," retorted Patricia flippantly. "We wanted you to comewith us."

  "That's all the thanks I get," sighed Katharine, "for risking my life toprotect your property."

  "Policeman, spare this car; touch not an ancient wheel!" giggled Anne.

  "In youth it carried me," continued Jane.

  "And I'll protect it now," carolled the three.

  "I've a good mind to dump you all out," declared Patricia in mockindignation. "I know it's not exactly a latest model, but it really isn'tso ancient as all that."

  "Never mind, Patsy," said Katharine. "We'll ride in it, even if it isold."

  "There's where we're going this afternoon," remarked Patricia a fewminutes later, pointing down a side street; "you can see the baseballpark from here."

  Long before the game started, they were in their seats watching thecrowds pour into the stands.

  Patricia, who sat beside Craig, soon noticed that he was scanning faceswith more than casual interest. When he pulled out a pair of operaglasses with which to view the opposite stands, her curiosity got thebetter of her.

  "Looking for someone special?" she inquired, making pleats in herhandkerchief.

  "Yes." He moved closer, put his head down, and spoke softly. "We got atip that the principal in the Brock affair might be around here, and mychief sent me out to see what I could pick up. Keep it under your hat,though."

  "Of course," breathed Patricia, quivering with excitement.

  "Come home to dinner with us?" asked Patricia, when the game was over andthey were headed for the parking station.

  Craig shook his head. "Like to a lot, but I want to look around a bitmore tonight; so I'll eat in a one-arm lunch that I know about whereperhaps I'll overhear something. Thanks a lot."

  "If you'd care to come, suppose you make it tomorrow instead. We havedinner at one on Sundays."

  "I'll be glad to come then."

  "Any luck?" Patricia inquired, as she met Craig in the hall of her ownhome the next noon.

  "Not a bit," looking so dejected that Patricia could hardly keep fromsmiling.

  "Too bad; but don't be quite so downcast."

  "Good advice; perhaps I'll run across something on the train. You getinto a conversation with strangers, and oftentimes a clew slips out."

  Dinner was a hilarious affair. Craig exerted himself to be entertaining,and Katharine had a silly streak which kept the company in gales oflaughter.

  "Hate to break away," said Craig, looking at his watch after theyfinished their coffee before the fireplace in the living room.

  The day had turned cool, and a wood fire was very welcome. "This isawfully cozy," he went on; "but my train goes in twenty minutes."

  "Why don't you let Pat tuck you into her machine, and go back with thegirls?" suggested Mr. Randall.

  "Like nothing better," replied Craig, unfolding his long body slowly ashe rose reluctantly from a big easy chair; "but I have my return ticket,and 'Waste not, want not' is one of my mottoes."

  "See you when you get back to town," were his last words to Patricia,after taking leave of the rest of the party.

  "Very likely," she replied carelessly.

  Had she been wise in inviting the boy to her house? She wondered, closingthe door. He was inclined to be a bit possessive and might think she wasmore interested in him than she really was. But the end of the collegeyear was fast approaching, and with it a breaking off of many Granardassociations. Her face was very sober as she rejoined the group in frontof the fire; for the fear of not being able to go back next fall was avery poignant one.

  "What's the matter, Pat?" inquired Katharine bluntly. "You look as ifyou'd just buried your last friend."

  "Haven't," replied the girl, perching on the arm of her father's chair,and twisting his hair into a Kewpie knot.

  "Pat always looks like that when it's time to leave home," commented Mrs.Randall, after a searching glance at her daughter.

  "I don't mean to appear inhospitable--" began Mr. Randall.

  "But you think we should be on our way," finished Patricia, "so as not tobe on the road long after dark."

  "Well, you know it always takes longer than you expect."

  "Yes, darling; we'll get started. Come, girls, get your things together."

  When they were about twenty-five miles from home, Patricia gazedanxiously ahead at a bank of dark clouds, rapidly spreading all acrossthe sky. "Afraid we're going to run into a storm, girls."

  "As long as it isn't a thunder storm," began Anne, in a worried tone.

  "Safe enough in a car if you keep out from under trees," commentedKatharine.

  "Can't, if you happen to be in the woods," objected Jane, who waswatching the clouds gathering so rapidly.

  "We're not going to be in the woods," said Patricia. "We'll strike thestorm long before we reach them."

  As she spoke a wave of chill wind swept across the country as thedarkness shut down like the cover of a box, and huge hailstones began tobounce off the hood and patter on the top of the car with such force thatit seemed as if they must break through.