An Oregon Girl Part 47

At that moment Sam hurriedly reappeared and approached Mr. Harris, who hastened to meet him. "What is wrong, Sam?" "Has he got away?" was the anxious inquiry.

"I guess not, Uncle," replied Sam, who seemed excited, and then nodding his head toward the river, said, in an undertone. "Something out of gear down there. A boy just told me a woman was wading in the water trying to find her drowned baby--and--and I thought"--

"What! Who do you think she can be, eh? It cannot be"--And they exchanged significant glances.

Sam tapped his head impressively. "The boy said she plunged her hands in the water, talked queer, and heard her call 'Dorothy.'"

"If it should be her! Good G.o.d! And John must be hereabouts, too. Let us go to her at once. Quietly, make no fuss. Come along," and Mr.

Harris turned hastily.

"What is the trouble now, James?" called out Mrs. Harris.

"No time," was all the satisfaction she got, and the two hastened down to the shingle.

"Dear me! Something serious has happened, I am sure!" and seeing a boy standing irresolute on the walk, addressed him:

"Here boy, do you know what is going on down there?"

"A crazy woman," the boy answered, drawing near. "She's wading in the river."

"Poor thing!" sympathetically exclaimed Mrs. Harris. "What is she wading in the river for? Did you hear her speak?"

"Yes'm, a little; but I was afraid and didn't stay but a minute. I came up to phone the police."

"Dear me! What did the poor creature say?"

"She said her baby was drowned. I'm pretty sure she called it Dorothy."

An agonizing shriek of "Constance!" broke from the three women simultaneously, and horror and consternation was depicted on every countenance.

"Almighty Heaven!" exclaimed Virginia, whose face had blanched at the news. "She has followed me here. I'll get some wraps, for poor Constance must be chilled through and through," and with that she hastened into the house.

"Virginia, dear!" Mrs. Harris called after her, "you will find wraps in my room."

Hazel had already started toward the river, and noting the girl's impatience, she went on: "Hazel and I will not wait for you."

As Mrs. Harris followed after Hazel, she kept muttering: "Dear me!

What a shock! What a shock to one's nerves!"

CHAPTER XXII.

The officers, with their prisoners, had reached the railway track, and were leisurely walking toward the little station when a commotion in a group of people on the shingle, a couple of hundred yards ahead, attracted their attention. Smith, who had accompanied the officers, started to investigate. He had proceeded but a short distance when his movement was accelerated by seeing Mr. Harris and Sam hastening down the slope toward the little group before mentioned.

Upon arrival at the station, one of the officers, Simms, hurried forward to ascertain the cause of the trouble, for evidently something serious had happened. The two prisoners were thus left, handcuffed, it is true, but under guard of only one officer, whose attention was also attracted by the excitement ahead. The officer gave his prisoners little attention, for he believed they were perfectly secure, as Jack's right wrist was handcuffed to the officer and Rutley was linked to Jack.

Rutley soon found that he could "slip the bracelet" and, nudging Jack, displayed his free hand. Jack gave him a significant wink, at the same time gently nodded his head for him to "break." For an instant Rutley was tempted to strike down the unsuspecting officer, and attempt to release Jack, but the chance of detection in the act, and inviting instant pursuit was so great, that he decided to try to escape alone.

Silently he stepped apart; farther, then he slipped behind the station.

A swift, noiseless dash to a culvert, through it and up along a small ravine, soon put him out of sight of the officers. His last view of them convinced him that they were still unmindful of his escape.

Arriving at a considerable elevation, to where a clump of brush concealed him from the view of those below, he paused and took a hasty glance around. The sweep of the slope was too clear and un.o.bstructed for any possibility of escape to the woods that covered the hill a couple of hundred yards distant, without him being seen. His determination was daring and instant.

He would enter "Rosemont house," seek a hiding place, secure some sort of disguise, and in the night effect his escape.

Following the depression he soon appeared on a level with the house.

Taking advantage of such cover as was afforded by shrubbery and hedges, and cowering close to earth, he quickly traversed the s.p.a.ce that had separated him from the house. Throwing himself prostrate among some ivy that grew in thick profusion along the bas.e.m.e.nt of the south side as a protection from the Winter rain, he lay there effectually concealed and listened with tense nerves for sounds of pursuit.

The silence was unbroken save for the spasmodic whirr of a lawn mower on a distant part of the grounds. Having recovered his wind, he looked up. Above him was an open window, but screened. If he could enter by that window he might gain the loft without discovery, and once there he felt satisfied that a good hiding place could be found. The front entrance would be easier, but the risk of being seen crossing the piazza was too great. He decided to try the window. Arising from his concealment, and refreshed by his short rest, enthusiasm bounded through his veins.

"I will get away yet," he muttered between his clenched teeth. "I saw the women following Harris down to the sh.o.r.e and the house must be deserted by all save the servants, and they are likely in the kitchen."

Another swift glance at the window, and mentally estimating its height from the ground, he felt certain that an entrance through it was practicable. There was no time to be lost.

The "water table" afforded a footing, and by the aid of an iron trellis erected to support a climbing vine, he reached the window.

There an obstacle was encountered. He tried to raise the screen, but it would not budge. In his exasperation he nearly tore his finger nails off trying to raise it from the bottom. Realizing that he was becoming excited he at once forced a calmness which he deemed highly essential, if he was to succeed. Every moment, too, was fraught with danger of discovery.

Pushing his hand against one side of the screen edgewise in an attempt to loosen it, the thing suddenly fell in. The thick carpet smothered the noise. He had unwittingly pressed against the edge that inclosed the springs, and in so doing released the other edge of the screen from the groove. Noiselessly he sprang inside. It was the library. He turned and cautiously scanned the hillside. No persons were in sight.

Then he quietly replaced the screen.

His daring coolness and nerve were now under full control. He stole out of the room, into the hall, with every sense alert to avoid discovery. His goal was the attic. He knew that the only way to reach it was by the service stairs, which he could use from the second floor. Before him was the main stairs. Without a moment of hesitation he leaped up the soft, thick, velvet-covered steps, his footfalls as silent as the tread of a cat.

A door was ajar on his left; he cautiously pushed it open and entered.

He saw at once that it was Sam's room. He glanced about, then opened a dresser drawer. "Ha, a revolver!" It was the work of a moment to examine the magazine.

"Empty!" he exclaimed, with disgust, and was about to replace it when, on second thought: "It may do for a bluff." Another hasty look and he picked up a hunting knife, which he also appropriated. A slight noise at that moment startled him and caused him to look around alarmed. He slipped behind a door for concealment. After a moment of tense suspense, and the quietness continuing unbroken, he stole out of the room.

So far everything was in his favor. Further along two doors, a few feet apart, were open. He had pa.s.sed one on his way to the attic stair, when, of a sudden, he heard a slight sound, as of a person moving lightly in the room. He instantly turned aside and pa.s.sed through the second open doorway. Virginia stood before him. She was at that moment hastening from the room, absorbed in thoughts of Constance.

With a stifled, painful cry of "Oh!" she shrank from him in a vague terror. Her face paled and her eyes expanded in manifest fright.

Speech deserted her. The power of motion fled and the shawl intended for Constance fell from her arm. She appeared paralyzed.

Rutley softly closed the door behind him and locked it and put the key in his pocket. The dressing room door received the same attention.

Then he turned to her. He was surprised to meet her, but observing the terror his presence inspired, he at once determined to force her to aid him to escape. He misjudged her character. For one moment he stood silently watching her. All the sharp intensity of his gaze concentrated on her frightened eyes; then he laughed low and gloatingly--"Ha, ha, ha. The girl that took on cold feet and betrayed her pal! I meant to say 'colleague,'" he corrected, with a sneer of apology. The smirk of his offensive stare and more offensive words irritated. She began to recover from her sudden fright and became immediately aware that her present situation required not only coolness but the most adroit handling. She accordingly nerved herself for the encounter.

Again he leered at her, and continued in the same soft, guarded, but suave voice: "To be caught alone and in a trap with her intended victim is one of the dispensations of an inscrutable and just Providence."

Virginia was regaining her self-possession every moment now. Courage was surging through her nerves in increasing power. Her eyes commenced to blaze.

"Your effrontery is offensive. Your meaning an enigma!" she indignantly replied.

"Indeed! Then I'll make it plain," he hissed. "I want you to cover my flight for liberty.

"You see I have escaped," he went on rapidly. "The officers are baffled--my trail so far is undiscovered."

"You mistake!" she corrected, with surprising coolness and decision.