CHAPTER II
AN ABLE HELPER
Nearly all the guests had left the Fairfield house, after Nan’s pleasantafternoon tea. Philip Van Reypen had escorted his aunt out to hercarriage, and she had driven away, while the young man returned for afew moments’ further chat with his hostess.
Though he and Nan had met but a few times, they had become ratherchummy, which, however, was not unusual for him, if he liked anybody.
Young Van Reypen was of a gay and social nature, and made friends easilyby his sheer good-humour. He admired Mrs. Fairfield very much, but, evenmore, he admired Patty. Ever since he had met her unexpectedly on hisaunt’s staircase, he had thought her the prettiest and sweetest girl hehad ever seen. So he was making every endeavour to cultivate heracquaintance, and, being of rather astute observation, he concluded itwise to make friends with the whole Fairfield family.
So the big, handsome chap went back to the drawing-room, and dropped ona sofa beside Nan.
“It’s awfully cold out,” he observed, plaintively.
“Is it?” returned his hostess, innocently.
“Yes; I hate to go out in the cold.”
“But you have to go, sooner or later.”
“Yes; but it may be warmer later.”
“On the contrary, it will probably grow colder.”
“Oh! do you think so? But, then again, it may not, and I’m quite willingto take the chance.”
“Mr. Van Reypen, I do believe you’re hinting for an invitation to stayhere to dinner!”
“Oh, Mrs. Fairfield, how clever you are! How could you possibly guessthat, now?”
Nan laughed and hesitated. She liked the young man, but she wasn’t surethat Patty wanted him there. Patty was developing into a somewhatdecided young person, and liked to make her own plans. And Nan well knewthat Patty was the real magnet that drew Mr. Van Reypen so often to thehouse.
“What do you think?” she said, as the girl came into the room; “thisplain-spoken young man is giving me to understand that, if he wereurged, he would dine here to-night.”
“Of course, it would require a great deal of most insistent urging,” putin Philip.
“Don’t let’s urge him,” said Patty, but the merry smile she flashed atthe young man belied her words.
“If you smile like that, I’ll do the urging myself,” he cried. “Please,Mrs. Fairfield, _do_ let me stay; I’ll be as good as gold.”
“What say you, Patty?” asked Nan.
“He may stay,” rejoined Patty, “if he’ll help me with my work on thosepuzzles.”
“Puzzles? Well, I just guess I will! I’ll do them all for you. Where’syour slate and pencil?”
“Oh, not yet!” laughed Patty. “We won’t do those until after dinner.”
“Why do you do them at all?” asked Nan; “and what are they, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you,” began Patty; “no, I won’t, either. At least, not now.It’s a grand project,—a really great scheme. And I’ll unfold it atdinner, then father can hear about it, too.”
So, later, when the quartette were seated around the dinner table, Pattyannounced that she would tell of her great project.
“You see,” she began, “it’s a sort of advertisement for a big motor-carcompany.”
“Don’t try to float a motor-car company, Patty,” advised her father;“it’s too big a project for a young girl.”
“I’m not going to do that, Daddy Fairfield; but I begin to think thatwhat I am going to do is almost as hard. You see, this big company hasissued a book of a hundred puzzles. Now, whoever guesses all thosepuzzles correctly will get the prize. And,—the prize is a lovelyelectric runabout. And I want it!”
“Hevings! hevings!” murmured Mr. Van Reypen. “She wants an ElectricRunabout! Why, Infant, you’ll break your blessed neck!”
“Indeed, I won’t! I guess I’ve brains enough to run an electric car! IfI guess those puzzles, that’ll prove it. They’re fearfully hard! Listento this one. ‘When did London begin with an L and end with an E?’”
“That is hard,” said Nan. “It must be some foreign name for London. But_Londres_ won’t do.”
“No,” said Patty, “I thought of that. I expect it’s some old Anglo-Saxonor Hardicanute name.”
“I expect it’s rubbish,” said her father. “Patty, don’t begin on thesethings. You’ll wear yourself out. I know how you hammer at anything,once you begin it, and you’ll be sitting up nights with these foolishquestions until you’re really ill.”
“Oh, no, I won’t, father. And beside, Mr. Van Reypen is going to helpme, lots.”
“Angel Child,” said Philip, looking at her with a patronising air, “ifall your questions are as easy as that one you just quoted, your task isalready accomplished.”
“Why, do you know the answer?” cried Patty. “Oh, tell it to me! I’vepuzzled so hard over it!”
“It’s a quibble, of course,—a sort of catch, do you see? And the answeris that London always began with an L, and _End_ always began with anE.”
“Oh,” said Patty, catching the point at once, “I should have known that!I pride myself on guessing those catch questions.”
“You were clever to guess it so quickly, Mr. Van Reypen,” said Mr.Fairfield; “or have you heard it before?”
“Not exactly in that form, no. But so many quibbles are built likethat.”
“They are,” agreed Patty; “I ought to have known it. Well, I ratherthink there are some others you won’t guess so easily.”
“How many have you done?” asked Nan.
“I’ve done about twenty-five out of the hundred. Some were dead easy,and some I had to work on like the mischief.”
“But, Patty,” began her father, “what could you do with a motor car ofyour own? You don’t want it.”
“Indeed, I do! Why, I’ll have perfectly elegant times scooting around bymyself.”
“But you can’t go by yourself in the New York streets! I won’t allowit.”
“No, daddy dear, not here in the city, perhaps. But, if we go away forthe summer to some nice country place, where there’s nothing in the roadbut cows, then I could run it alone. Or with some nice girl by my side.”
“Or with some nice boy by your side,” put in Philip. “I’m an awfullynice boy,—they all say.”
“If you help me win it, I’ll give you a ride in it,” said Patty. “But Ihaven’t won it yet.”
“No, and you won’t,” said her father. “Those contests are just plannedfor an advertisement. The prize goes to the daughter of the chiefdirector.”
“Oh, Father Fairfield! What a mean thing to say! You don’t know thatthat’s so at all. Now, I believe in their honesty.”
“So do I,” said Nan. “That isn’t like you, Fred, to express such anunfounded suspicion.”
“Well, perhaps I spoke too hastily. But still, Patty, I don’t think youwant the thing. If you get it, I’ll sell it for you, and give you themoney.”
“No, sir-ee! I want it for itself alone. Oh, father, think what fun I’dhave spinning around the country! Wouldn’t we, Nan?”
“Yes, indeed! I think it would be great fun. And they say thoseelectrics are easy to manage.”
“Pooh! as easy as pie,” declared Patty. “And, anyway, I ran a bigtouring car once, in France. A big gasoline one. An electric is nothingto that.”
“What do you do to make it go?” asked her father, smiling.
“Oh, you just release the pawl that engages the clutch that holds thelever that sustains the spring that lets go the brake—and there youare!”
“Patty! where did you learn all that jargon?”
“’Tisn’t jargon; it’s sense. And now, my dear ones, will you all help mein my stupendous undertaking? For, when I engage in a contest, I want towin.”
“Is it winning, if you have so much help?” teased her father.
“Yes, it is. The contest is to get the answers to those hundredqu
estions and send them in. It doesn’t matter where you get youranswers. You don’t want to enter the contest yourself, do you, Mr. VanReypen?”
“No, no, fair lady. I would but be thy humble knight, and render suchpoor assistance as I may.”
“All right, then; right after dinner, we’ll tackle that book of posers.”
And so, for a couple of hours that evening, Patty and Philip Van Reypenexerted the full force of their intellects to unravel the knotty tanglespropounded by the little paper-covered book.
Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield tried for a time, but soon grew weary of thedifficult game.
“Now, take this one,” said Patty to her colleague; “‘How do you swallowa door?’”
“Bolt it,” he replied, promptly. “That’s an old one.”
“I ought to have guessed that myself,” said Patty, “I’m so fond ofslang.”
“‘Bolt it,’ isn’t exactly slang.”
“No,—I s’pose not. It’s just rude diction. Now, answer this. ‘The poorhave two, the rich have none. Schoolboys have several, you have one.’”
“Well, that’s one of a class of puzzles to which the answer is usuallysome letter of the alphabet.”
“Oh, of course!” cried Patty, quickly; “it is _O_. There, I guessedthat! Don’t you claim it!”
“Of course, you did! Now, you know this one about the headless man,don’t you? It’s a classic.”
“No, I don’t. I can’t see any sense to it at all.”
“Read it.”
So Patty read aloud:
“‘A headless man had a letter to write It was read by one who had lost his sight, The dumb repeated it, word for word, And he who was deaf both listened and heard.’”
“And you don’t know that?” asked Philip.
“No; the conditions are impossible.”
“Oh, no, they’re not. They only seem so. The answer is, ‘Nothing.’ Yousee the headless man could write nothing, that’s naught, zero, or the_letter O_. Then the blind man, of course, could read nothing; the dumbman could repeat nothing; and the deaf man heard nothing.”
“Pooh! I don’t think that’s very clever.”
“Not modernly clever, but it’s a good example of the old-time enigmas.”
“Gracious! What a lot you know about puzzles. Have you always studiedthem.”
“Yes; I loved them as a child, and I love them still. I think this wholebook is great fun. But we’ll strike some really difficult ones yet.Here’s one I’ve never seen before. I’ll read it, and see if we, eitherof us, get a clue.
“‘What is it men and women all despise, Yet one and all alike as highly prize? What kings possess not; yet full sure am I That for that luxury they often sigh. What never was for sale; yet any day The thrifty housewife will give some away The farmer needs it for his growing corn. The tired husbandman delights to own. The very thing for any sick friend’s room. It coming, silent as Spring’s early bloom. A great, soft, yielding thing, that no one fears. A tiny thing, oft wet with mother’s tears. A thing so holy that we often wear It carefully hidden from the world’s cold stare.’”
“Well,” remarked Patty, complacently, as he finished reading, “I’veguessed that.”
“You have! You bright little thing! I haven’t. Now, don’t tell me. Waita minute! No, I can’t catch it. Tell me the answer.”
“Why, it’s An Old Shoe,” said Patty, laughing. “See how it all fits in.”
“Yes; it’s rattling clever. I like that one. Did you guess it as Iread?”
“Yes; it seemed to dawn on me as you went along. They often do that, ifI read them slowly. Now, here’s another old one. I’ll read, and youguess.
“‘If it be true, as Welshmen say, Honour depends on pedigree, Then stand by—clear the way— And let me have fair play. For, though you boast thro’ ages dark Your pedigree from Noah’s ark, I, too, was with him there. For I was Adam, Adam I, And I was Eve, and Eve was I, In spite of wind and weather; But mark me—Adam was not I, Neither was Mrs. Adam I, Unless they were together. Suppose, then, Eve and Adam talking— With all my heart, but if they’re walking There ends all simile. For, tho’ I’ve tongue and often talk, And tho’ I’ve feet, yet when I walk There is an end of me! Not such an end but I have breath, Therefore to such a kind of death I have but small objection. I may be Turk, I may be Jew, And tho’ a Christian, yet ’tis true I die by Resurrection!’”
“Oh, I know that one! It’s a very old one and it’s capital. The answeris A Bedfellow. See how clever it is; if I walk, it puts an end to me!and I die by resurrection! Oh, that’s a good one. But you see this one?”
The golden head and the close-cropped dark one bent over the booktogether and read these lines:
“I sit stern as a rock when I’m raising the wind, But the storm once abated I’m gentle and kind; I have kings at my feet who await but my nod To kneel down in the dust, on the ground I have trod. Though seen by the world, I am known but to few, The Gentile deserts me, I am pork to the Jew. I never have passed but one night in the dark, And that was like Noah alone in the ark. My weight is three pounds, my length is one mile, And when you have guessed me you’ll say with a smile, That my first and my last are the best of this isle.”
“Now that’s an old favourite with all puzzle-lovers,” said Philip, asthey finished reading it. “And it has never been satisfactorily guessed.The usual answer is The Crown of England. But that doesn’t seem right tome. However, I know no other.”
“But how does the Crown of England fit all the requirements?” saidPatty, looking over the text.
“Well, ‘this isle’ is supposed to mean Great Britain. And I believe itis a historic fact that the Crown spent one night in a big chest calledthe Ark.”
“What was it there for?”
“Oh, between the two reigns of William IV. and Victoria, there was adelay of some hours in the night before she really received the crown,and it was then placed in the ‘Ark.’ The weight of the crown is aboutthree pounds, and they say, if drawn out into gold wire, it wouldstretch a mile.”
“It would depend on the thickness of the wire,” commented Patty, sagely.
“So it would. I don’t like the answer, anyway. But I can’t think of abetter one. Let’s try some easy ones.”
“Take this mathematical one, then. ‘Divide nine into two equal partsthat, added together, will make ten.’”
For some time Philip worked over this. He tried arabic figures, printedwords, and Roman numerals. At last, he exclaimed, “Ah, now we have it!”
“Have you really done it?” cried Patty.
“Yes. Look. I write the Roman nine, IX, you know. Then I fold the papercrosswise, right through the middle. Now, what do you read on thisside?”
“IV,” said Patty; “that’s four.”
“Yes. Now I turn the folded paper over, and what do you read?”
“VI; that’s six.”
“Yes, and six and four are ten. Though, as you know, we divided our nineinto exactly equal parts by that crossways fold through the middle.”
“That’s a good one,” said Patty, with a little sigh; “but I don’t seehow you guessed it.”
“But _I_ see that you’re not to guess any more to-night,” said Mr.Fairfield, coming into the library, and looking at the absorbedpuzzlers. “I’m going to take you both to the dining-room, where Mrs.Fairfield will give you a very small bit of very light supper, and then,Mr. Van Reypen, I shall send my daughter to her much-needed andwell-earned rest.”
“But I’m not a bit sleepy, father dear,” protested Patty.
“No matter, my child; if you go into this ridiculous game, you mustpromise me not to overdo it. I will not allow you to work late at nighton these problems.”
“All right, Daddykins, I promise. Wow! but I’m hungry! Come on, Mr. VanReypen, let’s see what Nan will give us to suppor
t our famishingframes.”
To the dining-room they went, and Nan’s gay little supper soon brushedthe cobwebs out of Patty’s brain. But she was well satisfied with herfirst evening of real work on her “Puzzle Contest.”
Patty's Motor Car Page 2
