Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work Part 22

"One cannot touch pitch without being defiled," said Mr. Watson, gravely, "and politics, as Mr. Hopkins knows it, is little more than pitch."

"I cannot see that there is anything my girls have done to forfeit respect and admiration," a.s.serted Uncle John, stoutly. "To accuse them of boldness or immodesty is absurd. They have merely gone to work in a business-like manner and used their wits and common-sense in educating the voters. Really, my dears, I'm more proud of you today than I've ever been before," he concluded.

And Uncle John was right. There had been no loss of dignity by any one of the three, and their evident refinement, as well as their gentleness and good humor, had until now protected them from any reproach. It had remained for Mr. Hopkins to accuse them, and his circular had a wide influence in determining the issue of the campaign.

CHAPTER XIV

LUCY'S GHOST

Kenneth had sent word to Tom Gates, asking the young man to come to Elmhurst, but it was not until two days after the lawn party that Tom appeared and asked permission to see Mr. Forbes.

Beth and Louise were with Kenneth at the time, and were eager to remain during the interview, so the young man was shown into the library.

Beth could scarcely recognize in him the calm and cheerful Tom Gates they had visited in the county jail; for his face was drawn with care and anxiety, eyes were bloodshot, and his former neat appearance was changed to one careless and untidy.

Kenneth scrutinized him closely.

"What have you been up to, Tom?" he asked.

"I've been searching for Lucy, sir, night and day. I haven't slept a wink since I heard the awful news of her sickness and escape. Where do you think she can be, sir?"

His question was full of agonized entreaty, and his manner pitifully appealing.

"I don't know," answered Kenneth. "Where have you searched?"

"Everywhere, sir, that she might be likely to go. I've inquired in every town, and along every road leading out of the county. She didn't take a train, because poor Lucy hadn't any money--and I've asked at all the stations. And--and--along the river they say no girl answering her description has been seen."

"It's strange," remarked Kenneth, thoughtfully, while the girls regarded the youth with silent sympathy.

"If you knew Lucy, sir, you'd realize how strange it is," went on young Gates, earnestly. "She was such a gentle, shrinking girl, as shy and retiring as a child. And she never did a thing that would cause anyone the least worry or unhappiness. But she was out of her head, sir, and didn't know what she was about. That was the reason she went away. And from the moment she left her home all trace of her was lost."

"One would think," observed Kenneth, "that a poor, demented girl, wandering about the country, would be noticed by scores of people. Did she take any clothing with her?"

"Only the dress she had on, sir, and not even a hat or a shawl."

"What was her dress like?" asked Beth, quickly.

"It was a light grey in color, and plainly made. She wore a white collar, but that is all we can be certain she had on. You see her mother is blind, and old Will doesn't observe very closely."

"Does Lucy resemble her mother?" inquired Beth.

"Very much, miss. She was a beautiful girl, everyone acknowledged. And it's all my fault--all my fault. I thought to save her, and drove her mad, instead!"

"You might have known that," declared Kenneth. "A girl of her character, sensitive to a fault, would be greatly shocked to find the man she loved a criminal."

"It was for her sake."

"That is a poor excuse. If you had waited Lucy would have proved her innocence."

"They threatened to arrest her, sir. It would have killed her."

"They wouldn't dare arrest her on suspicion."

"The Squierses would dare do anything. You don't know old Mrs. Squiers."

"I know the law, sir, and in any event it was a foolish thing, as well as criminal, to forge a check to get the money they demanded."

"You are right, sir," replied Tom Gates, despondently. "It was foolish and criminal. I wouldn't mind my own punishment, but it drove my Lucy mad."

"See here," said Kenneth, sternly, "you are getting morbid, young man, and pretty soon you'll be mad yourself. If Lucy is found do you want her to see you in this condition?"

"Can she be found, sir, do you think?"

"We are trying to find her," replied Kenneth. "You have failed, it seems, and Will Rogers had failed. I've had one of the cleverest detectives of Chicago trying to find her for the last three days."

"Oh, Kenneth!" exclaimed Beth. "I didn't know that. How good of you!"

"It must have been the detective that came to see Mrs. Rogers," said Tom, musingly. "She told me a strange man had been there from Mr.

Forbes, to inquire all about Lucy."

"Yes; he makes a report to me every evening," remarked Kenneth; "and Mr.

Burke says this is the most mystifying case he has ever encountered. So far there isn't a clew to follow. But you may rest a.s.sured that what any man can do, Burke will do."

"I'm so grateful, sir!" said Tom.

"Then you must show it by being a man, and not by giving way to your trouble in this foolish manner."

"I'll try, sir, now that there's something to hope for."

"There's a good deal to hope for. Despair won't help you. You must go to work."

"I will. It won't be very easy to get work, for I've disgraced myself in this neighborhood, and I can't leave here till something is known of Lucy's fate. But I'll do something--any kind of work--if I can get it."

"I need someone to a.s.sist me in my correspondence," said Kenneth. "Would you like to be my secretary?"

"Me, Mr. Forbes--me!"

"Yes, Tom. I'll pay you twenty dollars a week to start with, and more if you serve me faithfully. And you'll board here, of course."

Then Tom Gates broke down and began to cry like a child, although he tried hard to control himself.

"You--you must forgive me, Mr. Forbes," he said, penitently; "I--I've been without sleep for so long that I haven't any nerves left."

"Then you must go to sleep now, and get a good rest." He turned to Beth.