The Scarlet Car
Page 9
sound of leaping feet. The young man laughed nervously.
"No, it's all right," he cried. "They're coming!"
The door flung open and the big burglar and a small, rat-like figure ofa man burst upon them; the big one pointing a revolver.
"Come with me to your car!" he commanded. "You've got to take us toBoston. Quick, or I'll blow your face off."
Although the young man glared bravely at the steel barrel and thelifted trigger, poised a few inches from his eyes, his body, as thoughweak with fright, shifted slightly and his feet made a shuffling noiseupon the floor. When the weight of his body was balanced on the ballof his right foot, the shuffling ceased. Had the burglar lowered hiseyes, the manoeuvre to him would have been significant, but his eyeswere following the barrel of the revolver.
In the mind of the young man the one thought uppermost was that he mustgain time, but, with a revolver in his face, he found his desire togain time swiftly diminishing. Still, when he spoke, it was withdeliberation.
"My chauffeur--" he began slowly.
The burglar snapped at him like a dog. "To hell with your chauffeur!"he cried. "Your chauffeur has run away. You'll drive that caryourself, or I'll leave you here with the top of your head off."
The face of the young man suddenly flashed with pleasure. His eyes,looking past the burglar to the door, lit with relief.
"There's the chauffeur now!" he cried.
The big burglar for one instant glanced over his right shoulder.
For months at a time, on Soldiers Field, the young man had thrownhimself at human targets, that ran and dodged and evaded him, and thehulking burglar, motionless before him, was easily his victim.
He leaped at him, his left arm swinging like a scythe, and, with theimpact of a club, the blow caught the burglar in the throat.
The pistol went off impotently; the burglar with a choking cough sankin a heap on the floor.
The young man tramped over him and upon him, and beat the secondburglar with savage, whirlwind blows. The second burglar, shriekingwith pain, turned to fly, and a fist, that fell upon him where his bumpof honesty should have been, drove his head against the lintel of thedoor.
At the same instant from the belfry on the roof there rang out on thenight the sudden tumult of a bell; a bell that told as plainly asthough it clamored with a human tongue, that the hand that rang it wasdriven with fear; fear of fire, fear of thieves, fear of a mad-man witha knife in his hand running amuck; perhaps at that moment creeping upthe belfry stairs.
From all over the house there was the rush of feet and men's voices,and from the garden the light of dancing lanterns. And while the smokeof the revolver still hung motionless, the open door was crowded withhalf-clad figures. At their head were two young men. One who haddrawn over his night clothes a serge suit, and who, in even that garb,carried an air of authority; and one, tall, stooping, weak of face andlight-haired, with eyes that blinked and trembled behind greatspectacles and who, for comfort, hugged about him a gorgeous kimono.For an instant the newcomers stared stupidly through the smoke at thebodies on the floor breathing stertorously, at the young man with thelust of battle still in his face, at the girl shrinking against thewall. It was the young man in the serge suit who was the first to move.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"These are burglars," said the owner of the car. "We happened to bepassing in my automobile, and----"
The young man was no longer listening. With an alert, professionalmanner he had stooped over the big burglar. With his thumb he pushedback the man's eyelids, and ran his fingers over his throat and chin.He felt carefully of the point of the chin, and glanced up.
"You've broken the bone," he said.
"I just swung on him," said the young man. He turned his eyes, andsuggested the presence of the girl.
At the same moment the man in the kimono cried nervously: "Ladiespresent, ladies present. Go put your clothes on, everybody; put yourclothes on."
For orders the men in the doorway looked to the young man with thestern face.
He scowled at the figure in the kimono.
"You will please go to your room, sir," he said. He stood up, andbowed to Miss Forbes. "I beg your pardon," he asked, "you must want toget out of this. Will you please go into the library?"
He turned to the robust youths in the door, and pointed at the secondburglar.
"Move him out of the way," he ordered.
The man in the kimono smirked and bowed.
"Allow me," he said; "allow me to show you to the library. This is noplace for ladies."
The young man with the stern face frowned impatiently.
"You will please return to your room, sir," he repeated.
With an attempt at dignity the figure in the kimono gathered the silkrobe closer about him.
"Certainly," he said. "If you think you can get on without me--I willretire," and lifting his bare feet mincingly, he tiptoed away. MissForbes looked after him with an expression of relief, of repulsion, ofgreat pity.
The owner of the car glanced at the young man with the stern face, andraised his eyebrows interrogatively.
The young man had taken the revolver from the limp fingers of theburglar and was holding it in his hand. Winthrop gave what was half alaugh and half a sigh of compassion.
"So, that's Carey?" he said.
There was a sudden silence. The young man with the stern face made noanswer. His head was bent over the revolver. He broke it open, andspilled the cartridges into his palm. Still he made no answer. Whenhe raised his head, his eyes were no longer stern, but wistful, andfilled with an inexpressible loneliness.
"No, _I_ am Carey," he said.
The one who had blundered stood helpless, tongue-tied, with no presenceof mind beyond knowing that to explain would offend further.
The other seemed to feel for him more than for himself. In a voice lowand peculiarly appealing, he continued hurriedly.
"He is my doctor," he said. "He is a young man, and he has not hadmany advantages--his manner is not--I find we do not get on together.I have asked them to send me some one else." He stopped suddenly, andstood unhappily silent. The knowledge that the strangers wereacquainted with his story seemed to rob him of his earlier confidence.He made an uncertain movement as though to relieve them of his presence.
Miss Forbes stepped toward him eagerly.
"You told me I might wait in the library," she said. "Will you take methere?"
For a moment the man did not move, but stood looking at the young andbeautiful girl, who, with a smile, hid the compassion in her eyes.
"Will you go?" he asked wistfully.
"Why not?" said the girl.
The young man laughed with pleasure.
"I am unpardonable," he said. "I live so much alone--that I forget."Like one who, issuing from a close room, encounters the morning air, hedrew a deep, happy breath. "It has been three years since a woman hasbeen in this house," he said simply. "And I have not even thankedyou," he went on, "nor asked you if you are cold," he criedremorsefully, "or hungry. How nice it would be if you would say youare hungry."
The girl walked beside him, laughing lightly, and, as they disappearedinto the greater hall beyond, Winthrop heard her cry: "You neverrobbed your own ice-chest? How have you kept from starving? Show meit, and we'll rob it together."
The voice of their host rang through the empty house with a laugh likethat of an eager, happy child.
"Heavens!" said the owner of the car, "isn't she wonderful!" Butneither the prostrate burglars, nor the servants, intent on strappingtheir wrists together, gave him any answer.
As they were finishing the supper filched from the ice-chest, Fred wasbrought before them from the kitchen. The blow the burglar had givenhim was covered with a piece of cold beef-steak, and the water thrownon him to revive him was thawing from his leather breeches. Mr. Careyexpressed his gratitude, and rewarded him beyond the avaricious dreamseven of a chauffeur.
As
the three trespassers left the house, accompanied by many pails ofwater, the girl turned to the lonely figure in the doorway and wavedher hand.
"May we come again?" she called.
But young Mr. Carey did not trust his voice to answer. Standing erect,with folded arms, in dark silhouette in the light of the hall, he bowedhis head.
Deaf to alarm bells, to pistol shots, to cries for help, they found herbrother and Ernest Peabody sleeping soundly.
"Sam is a charming chaperon," said the owner of the car.
With the girl beside him, with Fred crouched, shivering, on the step,he threw in the clutch; the servants from the house waved the emptiedbuckets in salute, and the great car sprang forward into the awakeningday toward the golden dome over the Boston Common. In