Mary Louise in the Country

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER XXIVFACING DANGER

  Nan's presence at Cragg's Crossing rendered Josie O'Gorman uneasy. Shehad the Cragg case so well in hand, now, and the evidence in herpossession was so positively incriminating, in her judgment, that shedid not like to be balked by a clever female detective from herfather's own office. She had little doubt but Nan would do all in herpower to save old Hezekiah Cragg from the penalty of his misdeeds, andher greatest fear was that he might utterly disappear before O'Gormansent her assistance.

  With this fear growing in her mind, on Monday she determined to sendanother telegram to her father, urging haste, so she obtainedpermission from the Colonel to have Uncle Eben drive her and MaryLouise to the city, there being no telegraph office at ChargroveStation. But she timed the trip when no trains would stop at Chargroveduring her absence and at the telegraph office she sent an imperativemessage to John O'Gorman at Washington demanding instant help. Sinceall counterfeiting cases belonged distinctly to the Secret ServiceDepartment she had little doubt her father would respond as soon as theaffairs at the office would permit him to do so. But the delay wasexasperating, nevertheless. Indeed, Josie was so sure that the crisisof her case was imminent that she determined to watch old Cragg's houseevery night until his arrest could be made. If he attempted to escapeshe would arrest him herself, with the aid of the little revolver shecarried in her dress pocket.

  On their return journey they overtook Mr. Sinclair at about a mile fromthe Crossing. They had never seen the man before, but when he signaledthem. Uncle Eben slowed up the machine and stopped beside him.

  "I beg a thousand pardons," said the dapper little stranger, removinghis silk hat and bowing profoundly to the two girls, "but would youmind taking me to the town? I--I--fear I have turned my ankle; notseriously, you know, but it is uncomfortable; so if I may sit besideyour chauffeur the favor will be greatly appreciated."

  "To be sure," said Mary Louise with ready. "Can you get in unaided, ordo you wish Uncle Eben to assist you?"

  "Thank you; thank you a thousand times, young lady," said he, climbinginto the front seat. "I'm stopping at the hotel," he explained, as thecar again started, "for rest and quiet, because of my nervouscondition. My doctor said I would suffer a nervous breakdown if I didnot seek rest and quiet in the seclusion of some country village. So Icame here, and--it's secluded; it really is."

  "I hope your ankle is not seriously injured, sir," said Mary Louise."Take the gentleman to the hotel, Uncle Eben."

  "Thank you," said the little man, and fussily removing a card-case froman inner pocket he added: "My card, please," and handed it to MaryLouise.

  Josie glanced at the card, too. She had been regarding the strangerthoughtfully, with the same suspicions of him that Nan had formerlyentertained. The card was not printed; it was engraved: one point inthe man's favor. His blond hair was a wig; she had a good view of theback of it and was not to be deceived. But perhaps the moustache, whichmatched the hair, was genuine. Carefully considering the matter, shedid not think anyone would come to Cragg's Crossing in disguise unlesshe were a confederate of Hezekiah Cragg, helping to circulate thecounterfeit money. This odd Mr. Sinclair might be such a person andworking under the direction of Ned Joselyn. Joselyn was in hiding, forsome unexplained reason; Sinclair could appear openly. There might benothing in this supposition but Josie determined to keep an eye on thenervous stranger.

  He was profuse in his thanks when they let him out at Hopper's Hoteland Uncle Eben chuckled all the way home.

  "Dat man am shuah some mighty 'stravagant punkins, in he's own mind,"he remarked. "He oughteh git he's pictur' took in dat outfit, Ma'yWeeze, jes' to show how 'dic'lous a white man can look. He'll have allde kids in town a-chasin' of him, if he gits loose on de streets. Allhe needs is a brass ban' to be a circus parade."

  Nan and Ingua came over to dinner that evening and Josie was verycordial to Ingua's mother, who treated her chief's daughter with theutmost friendliness. Both Ingua and Mary Louise were surprised by theirpoliteness and comradeship, but neither of the principals was deceivedby such a display. Each was on her guard, but realized it was wise toappear friendly.

  Monday night Josie lurked in the shadows of the river bank untildaybreak, never relaxing her espionage of the Cragg house for a moment.All was quiet, however.

  Tuesday passed without event. Tuesday night Josie was at her postagain, her eyes fixed on the dim light that shone from Mr. Cragg'sroom. Had she been able to see through the walls of the cottage shewould have found the old man seated in his private apartment oppositehis daughter. Could she have heard their conversation--the low,continuous hum of Old Swallowtail's voice, broken only by an occasionalquestion from Nan--she would surely have been astonished. Nan was notmuch astonished, save at the fact that her father had at lastvoluntarily confided to her the strange story of his life, a lifehitherto unknown to her. She was not easily surprised, but she wasgreatly impressed, and when he finally rose from his chair and went outinto the night Nan sat in meditation for some time before she followedhim. Ingua had long been asleep.

  Josie, lurking outside, had not expected Old Swallowtail to leave thepremises unless he planned to run away. His delivery of counterfeitmoney to Ned Joselyn had been of too recent a date to render itnecessary that he revisit his stone-yard for some time to come, sheargued; yet to-night, at a little after eleven o'clock, she saw hisshadow pass from the house and take the path to the bridge.

  Josie followed. At the bridge Mr. Cragg turned westward and at once shesurmised he was bound for his rocky five acres. The old man walkeddeliberately, never thinking to look behind him. He might not haveobserved anything suspicious had he turned, but a hundred feet behindhim came Josie O'Gorman, deftly dodging from tree to bush to keep inthe dark places by the wayside. And behind Josie silently moved alittle man in gray homespun, whose form it would be difficult todistinguish even while he stood in the open. Josie, like the prey shestalked, was too occupied to look behind.

  Old Swallowtail reached the stone-yard and climbed the fence. While hepaused there Josie crept close and noticed a light which suddenlyflashed from the hillside. It was a momentary flash and not verybrilliant, but she knew it was a signal because the old man at oncestarted forward. She let him lead on until he disappeared among therocks and then she boldly followed. She knew now where the secretentrance to the cavern was located.

  Threading her way cautiously through the maze of rocks the girl finallyreached a slanting shelf beneath which she crept on hands and knees. Atits farthest edge was a square door of solid oak, rather crudelyconstructed but thick and substantial. This door stood ajar.

  Josie, crouching beside the secret entrance, wondered what she ought todo. The regular thumping, as of machinery, which she had heard oncebefore, now began and continued without interruption. Here was anopportunity to catch the counterfeiters redhanded, but she was onesmall girl as opposed to a gang of desperate criminals.

  "Oh, dear!" she whispered, half aloud, "I wish father had paid someattention to my telegram."

  "He did," responded a soft voice beside her.