Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College Part 9

CHAPTER XI

KATHLEEN'S GREAT STORY

The inside of the Overton police station closely resembled that of Oakdale. There was the same style of high desk, the same row of chairs against the wall. Grace hoped the chief would be as easy to approach as was her old friend, Chief Burroughs, at home. There was but one man to be seen, an officer, who sat writing at a small table in one corner of the room.

Kathleen pointed to a half-open door leading into an inner room on which appeared the word "Private."

Grace nodded: then, confidently approaching the officer, asked if the Chief of Police were in. For answer the officer simply motioned with one hand toward the half-open door and went on with his writing.

Chief of Police Ellis glanced up in surprise to see two strange young women standing in the door of his private office.

"Are you the Chief of Police, and may we come into your office for a moment?" questioned Grace politely.

"Come in, by all means," responded the chief heartily. He was a kindly, middle-age man, whose voice and manner invited confidence. "What can I do for you, young ladies?"

Grace turned to Kathleen, who at once poured forth the story of the appearance of "Larry, the Locksmith" in Overton, of his recognition and of how he had been traced to his hiding place.

At first Chief Ellis had looked incredulous over Kathleen's strange statement.

"How can you be sure he is the man if you have never seen him?" he asked shrewdly. "We can't afford to arrest the wrong man, you know."

Kathleen looked appealingly at Grace.

"You have a daughter in the freshman cla.s.s, haven't you, Chief!" asked Grace, coming to the newspaper girl's rescue.

"Yes," smiled the chief. "I thought you were Overton girls."

"I am Miss Harlowe of the senior cla.s.s. This is Miss West, a soph.o.m.ore.

You would not wish your daughter's name to be used in police court news, would you?"

Chief Ellis made an emphatic gesture of negation. "No!" he answered.

"Then I am sure you will keep secret what I am about to tell you." Grace then explained the situation, beginning with the theft of the cla.s.s money in Oakdale and ending with her trailing of the thief to his hiding place.

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the chief. "This is a most remarkable story. However, I am willing to proceed on the strength of it. I'll have three men on the way to capture 'Larry' within the next fifteen minutes.

You young ladies had better go home. You can call me on the telephone every half hour until the men come in. I'll keep you posted. If they get him at once, you can get word to your paper to-night," he a.s.sured Kathleen. "You must be a pretty smart girl to be going to college and holding a newspaper job at the same time."

Instead of going to Wayne Hall to await word from the chief, the two girls first made arrangements with the telegraph operator at the depot office to wire the story. Kathleen also sent a telegram to her paper.

Then they had begun their anxious vigil in the drug store on the corner above the station. An hour later their watch ended. The three officers returned with a snarling, raging prisoner securely handcuffed to one of their number.

"They've captured him!" cried Kathleen, "and now my work begins in earnest." While they had been waiting the newspaper girl had employed the time in writing rapidly in a note book she carried. Grace would have liked to see what she wrote, but now that the first excitement had pa.s.sed she felt the old constraint rising between them like a wall.

"Do you care if I don't wait for you in the telegraph office?" asked Grace. "I'll go as far as the door with you. Then I think I had better go on to the Hall. Anne will be worried about me."

Kathleen a.s.sented to her plan with a look of immeasurable relief which Grace was not slow to observe, but misconstrued entirely. "I suppose she doesn't wish to be bothered while she sends in her story," was Grace's thought as they left the drug store.

"Good night. I thank you for helping me," said Kathleen in a perfunctory tone as she turned to go into the office. "It is going to be a great story."

"You are very welcome," responded Grace. "Good night, and good luck to you."

Three anxious-faced girls were waiting for Grace in her room, and as she opened the door they pounced upon her in a body.

"Grace, Grace, you naughty girl, where have you been?" cried Anne. "I am sure my hair has turned gray watching for you."

"Yes, give an account of yourself," commanded Elfreda. "Have you no respect for our feelings?"

"Did you imagine no one would miss you?" was Miriam's question.

"I will answer your questions in order," laughed Grace. "I've been out on important business, I have the deepest respect for your feelings, and I know that my friends always miss me."

"Spoken like a soldier and a gentleman," commended Elfreda.

"Which is quite remarkable, considering the fact that I am neither,"

retorted Grace.

"Grace, what on earth have you been doing?" Anne's face grew sober.

There was a subdued excitement in her friend's manner that had not escaped her notice.

"Anne, I cannot tell a lie," returned Grace lightly. "I've been to the police station."

The three girls stared at Grace in amazement.

"Let me see," mumbled Elfreda. "Have I transgressed the law lately, or had any arguments with Grace? This looks suspicious."

"Don't tease me, and promise you will never tell any one what I'm about to say. Hold up your right hands, all of you."

Three right hands were promptly raised.

"Now, I'll tell you about it," declared Grace, "and please bear in mind, before I begin, that venerable old saw about truth being stranger than fiction."

"I knew something startling had happened," declared Anne, when Grace had concluded. "I read it in your face."

"Oh, why wasn't I with you?" was Elfreda's regretful cry. "I have always longed to be concerned in a real melodrama."

Miriam, alone, made no comment. She regarded Grace with an intent gaze that made the latter ask quickly: "What is the matter, Miriam? Don't you approve of my evening's work? I know Father and Mother won't. I must write them to-morrow. Still, I could hardly have done otherwise."

"Of course you couldn't," a.s.sured Miriam. "I don't disapprove of what you did. You behaved in true Grace Harlowe fashion."

"Then what made you look at me so strangely?" persisted Grace.

"If I looked at you strangely, then I beg your pardon," smiled Miriam.

"It shall not happen again."

Grace smiled faintly, yet her intuition told her that Miriam had purposely turned her question aside.