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"I'd go at once, sir!" Wilkins breathed fervently. "I really would, Mr.
Fry. She seems in a bit of a temper, if I may say so."
Anthony pa.s.sed him without further comment or protest, and hastened to David's door. Apprehension filled him suddenly, not so much because there was any reason for apprehension as because he was nervous. Anger went up, too, that the wretched girl should have upset the first calm and peaceful moment of the morning, so that it is quite possible that Anthony failed to smile as he entered the chamber.
For that matter, Mary was not smiling either. She stood at the foot of the bed, clinging to it, and her bosom heaved and her eyes bored into Anthony Fry.
"That--that man!" she whispered quite dramatically.
"He is merely an old friend of mine, Miss Mary," Anthony said impatiently. "I have no idea of mentioning your existence, far less of----"
"Did your man say _Robert_ Vining?"
"Of course."
"Is that the Robert Vining of Vining & Dale, lawyers, in Wall Street?"
Mary cried softly.
"Of course," said Anthony. "It isn't possible that you know him?"
"_Know_ him?" Mary echoed wildly. "That's the man I'm going to marry!"
CHAPTER IX
Crime?
Entering, the Owner of Fry's Imperial Liniment had been justifiably annoyed. Twenty seconds after entering, Mary's obvious excitement had caused the annoyance to give place to not very interested wonder; but now Mary had claimed all his attention and the annoyance was all gone.
Indeed, as a quant.i.ty to claim one's whole attention Mary had been a success from the very beginning.
Anthony Fry, then, scowled flitting incredulity at her; and the absurdity of being incredulous of one who panted and shook as did Mary becoming at once apparent, Anthony paled somewhat.
"I cannot--believe that such an astonishing coincidence----" he began.
"What you believe or don't believe doesn't interest me!" Mary said swiftly. "Did I hear him talking about that wretched fight last night?"
"Er--yes."
"He was there?"
"Of course."
"Well, it's the same Robert Vining!" Mary whispered. "Get him out of here!"
"But----"
"Don't argue about it! Get him out of here!" said Mary. "Do you suppose I want him to come wandering down this way and _find me_?"
"He will not do that, because----"
"How do you know whether he will or not?" Mary demanded hotly. "Why did he have to come here? It's all his fault--the whole thing's his fault!
If he hadn't refused to take me to that beastly old fight and made such a time about it, I'd never have made up my mind to go, anyway!"
"So that's what happened?" Anthony muttered.
"That is what happened. Now get him out of here!" Mary directed. "And do it quickly!"
After all, the unlucky little coincidence was not nearly so serious as she seemed to think. Anthony smiled quite calmly.
"He will not stay very long," said he, "and when he is ready to go I will not detain him, of course. But I can't very well go in and order him out, you know."
Mary, bosom heaving still, looked straight at him with burning eyes.
"Mr. Fry," she said solemnly, "I've always lived too much out doors and boxed and shot and paddled and ridden too much to be given to hysterics.
The only time I ever had hysterics was the night they thought dad had been killed--but _that_ night, once I started, the neighbors came out on the street two blocks away to see what was the matter!"
"I don't understand?"
"You will," Mary said, controlling herself with visible difficulty.
"You've made me stand enough since last night, and there are some things I cannot--some things I will not even try to stand! I tell you honestly that if Bob isn't out of this flat in two minutes, I'm going into a fit of hysterics that will have the reserves piling into this sanctified hotel just as surely as the sun is shining!"
"Miss Mary----" faltered Anthony Fry.
Mary's hands clenched in the most peculiar manner.
"Hadn't you better make the best of those two minutes?" she asked breathlessly.
His quiet smile was gone now; lines appeared in Anthony's countenance as he looked at her--and then, wasting no further time in aimless comment, he turned and tottered into the corridor. Mary meant just what she said.
Robert Vining and Johnson Boller were sprawling in the deep chairs, opposite one another, smoking comfortably and giving every evidence of having settled down for a considerable session. Young Mr. Vining grinned through the smoke at his older friend.
"Sit down, Anthony," said he. "We're just going over the thing round by round, to see if either of us can remember a worse fight for the money.
We're working on round two, just now."
Anthony smiled strangely and laid a dramatic hand upon his brow.
"I will not join the discussion," he said.
"Eh? What's the matter?" Robert asked, sitting up.
"Headache! One of the--er--headaches that make my life a burden!"
Anthony groaned.
"I never knew you had 'em," young Vining said with a mystified smile.
"Neither did I," Johnson Boller contributed healthfully.