Peggy Stewart at School Part 25

"Had he seen the cab?"

"Certain. It was hiking along ahead. Pa.s.sed him just a little time before, the horse a-lather. Wondered who the fools were."

"Well, you know now. How far ahead do you reckon they are?"

"Quarter mile beyond that turn if the horse ain't fell dead. Let me break away, overhaul them and then you two come in at the death," he laughed.

Shelby was riding Shashai, and at his word a black streak pa.s.sed out of sight around the bend of the boulevard. Star and Columbine chafed to follow, but their riders held them back for a time.

True enough, as Shelby had said, the cab was still pounding along toward Washington, though the poor horse was nearly done up.

Shelby came abreast the poor panting beast, leaned quietly over, caught the bridle and cried, "Whoa!" The horse was only too delighted to oblige him. Not so "Cabby."

With wrath and ire he rose to mete out justice to this highwayman. Had the b.u.t.t of his whip hit Shelby he would have seen more stars than twinkled overhead. But it didn't. It was caught in one hand, given a dexterous twist and sent flying into the road as Shelby said in his quiet drawl:

"Don't get excited. At least, don't let _me_ excite you. I ain't got nothing against you, but you can't take those 'slopers no further this night."

"'Lopers nothin'! Me fares is two ladies on their ways to the Willard.

'Tis a niece and aunt they are."

"Say, you're easy. I thought you fellows wise to most any game. Niece and aunt! Shucks! Come 'long out aunt, or Cousin Pauline, or whatever you are, and you, Miss Doolittle, just don't do nothin' but live up to that name you've got. Lord, whoever named you knew his or her business all right, all right! Here come Bolivar and his daughter to bear a hand.

Now don't set out to screech and carry on, 'cause if you do you'll make more trouble and it looks like you'd made a-plenty a-ready. And you shut up!" cried Shelby, now thoroughly roused, as Paul Ring, his disguise removed and stowed in his suitcase bl.u.s.tered from the cab. "Quit! or I'll crack you're addle-pated head for you, you young fool. Do you know what it will mean if I report you at Annapolis? Well, unless you make tracks for Bancroft P. D. Q.--that means pretty decidedly quick, Nelly,--you're going to get all that is comin' to you with compound interest. Beat it while your shoes are good. We'll escort your girl back to home and friends. Nelly, get into that cab. Cabby, these are two school girls and this man is this one's father. Now go about and head for the home port. No rowing. Yes, you'll get paid all right, all right.

I'll stand for the damage and so will Bolivar here. But are _you_ going to dust?" the last words were addressed to Paul Ring to whom Helen was clinging and imploring him not to leave her. But, alas! It was four to one, for cabby's wrath was now centered upon "that hully show of a bloomin' auntie."

Amidst violent protests upon Helen's part, Nelly entered the cab. She would "not go back!" And she would "go with dear Paul!" Her heart was breaking. Nelly Bolivar was "a good-for-nothing, common tattle-tale and the whole school probably knew all about her elopement already," etc., etc.

Nelly tried to a.s.sure her that no one suspected a thing. Mr. Bolivar corroborated that statement, but Helen continued to sob and berate Nelly till finally Shelby's deep voice cried:

"Halt, cabby!" Then dismounting he opened the cab door, took Helen by the arm and shook her soundly, then thundered:

"If you was a boy I'd yank you out o' that cab and whale you well, for that's what you rate. Since you're a fool-girl I can't. Now stop that hullabaloo instanter. We'll get you back to the school and n.o.body'll know a thing if you keep your senses. Nelly here ain't anxious to have that school and her friends figurin' in the newspapers. Now you mind what I'm tellin' you. I've stood for all the nonsense I'm going to, and I promise to get you home without you're being missed, but if you let out another peep I'll march you straight to the Admiral's office, and don't you doubt my word for a single minute." Then Shelby remounted Shashai, and leading Star, the odd procession started back, Shelby cudgeling his brain to devise a way of getting the romantic maiden in as secretly as he had promised. He need not have worried about that. The inmates of Columbia Heights were meantime having lively experiences of their own.

CHAPTER XVII

A SEND-OFF WITH FIREWORKS

When Lily Pearl fled from Stella's room leaving the overturned fairy lamp to bring about the climax of that evening, her one thought was to get to bed, and hardly had she tumbled into it than sleep brought oblivion of all else. Lily Pearl was a somnolent soul in many senses.

Mrs. Vincent was busy in her study at the other end of the house. Miss Sturgis was dining with friends. Fraulein, who was a romantic creature, was seated under a huge copper beech tree entertaining a Herr Professor straight from the Vaterland. The other teachers were either out or in their rooms in other parts of the building, and the servants had drifted out through the rear grounds. Consequently, the fairy lamp had things pretty much its own way and it embraced its opportunity.

What prompted Polly to go upstairs just at that crisis she could never have told, but she did, and a second later Peggy followed her. The moment the girls reached their corridor the odor of smoke a.s.sailed their nostrils. For an instant they stopped and looked at each other, then Peggy cried:

"Polly, something's afire. Quick, the bugle call!" Polly bounded forward and, as upon another occasion back in Montgentian she had roused the neighborhood and saved the situation, now she sounded her bugle call, but this time it was "fire call," not "warning." Clear, high and sharp the notes rang through the house. Mrs. Vincent down in her study sprang to her feet. The teachers rushed to their posts, the girls ran in from the terrace. Well for Columbia Heights School that Polly had taught them the different calls and that she and Peggy had begged Mrs. Vincent to let the girls learn the fire drill as the boys in Bancroft did it.

Not far off was a fire engine house and the members of the company had more than once come to see the two girls put their schoolmates through their drill. It was all a grand frolic then, for none believed it would ever be put to practical use. But the fire chief had nodded wisely and said to Mrs. Vincent:

"Those two young girls have long heads. It may all be a pretty show-down now, but some day you may find it come in handy."

It came in very handy this time. In two minutes an alarm was turned in and the engines were tearing toward Columbia Heights. The girls had rushed to their rooms, scrambled what they could into blankets, and ran downstairs with their burdens. At least many of them had. All the fire drills in the world will not keep some people's heads upon their shoulders in a crisis.

Roused from sleep by the bugle, Lily Pearl, uttering shriek upon shriek, plunged her feet into a pair of pink satin slippers newly bought for commencement, caught up and pinned upon her head the new hat, of which Rosalie had said: "Well, of all the lids! Lily, did the milliner put the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g on the box and forget to send home the hat?" Then grabbing her fur coat from the closet she ran screaming down to the lawn, certainly somewhat promiscuous as to raiment, for her nightie was an airy affair and she carried her coat over her arm.

But the stately Juno was one of the most amusing objects. She carefully put on a pair of evening gloves and took a lace pocket handkerchief from her bureau drawer. That was all she even attempted to save.

It was well for the school that Polly and Peggy had kept their wits. All were soon out of the building and the firemen battling bravely to confine the fire to the west wing, but poor Stella's room was surely doomed, for what smoke and flames might possibly spare water would certainly ruin.

In the midst of the uproar Shelby, Bolivar, Nelly and Helen came upon the scene.

"Good Lord Almighty! Look out for the girls, Bolivar. Guess they'll have no trouble gettin' in unnoticed now," cried Shelby, and sent Shashai speeding to the stables.

Bolivar paused only long enough to hand cabby a ten-dollar bill and cry:

"Clear out quick and keep your mouth shut too!" Then he hurried the terrified girls to the lawn where dozens of other girls were huddled, and n.o.body asked any questions about the suitcase. Nor did anyone think to ask how Bolivar and Shelby happened to be there when they were supposed to be miles away. Many details were quite overlooked that night, which was a fortunate circ.u.mstance for Miss Helen Doolittle, and her hard-hit midshipman, who had "frenched" out of Bancroft not only with mamma's knowledge, but with her cooperation. To have formed an alliance with Foxy Grandpa's niece and clinched that end of the scheme of things would have been one step in the direction of securing an ample income, and once that lover's knot was tied, Helen was to be whisked back to the school and the secret kept. Mamma was at the Willard waiting for "those darling children" to come, and when, much later than he was expected, "dear Paul" arrived alone and in a greatly perturbed state of mind, mother and son had considerable food for thought until the midnight car carried them back to Annapolis, where Paul "clomb" the wall at the water's edge and "snoke" into quarters (in Bancroft's vernacular) in the wee, sma' hours, a weary, disgusted and unamiable youth. Perhaps had he suspected what was happening back at Columbia Heights his prompt oblivion in slumber would not have taken place, though Paul was a philosopher in his way. Helen was with friends and "she'd knock off crying when she found she had to; all girls did." Selah!

But during all this time things had not been moving so tranquilly at Columbia Heights. Given over a hundred girls, and a seething furnace of a building in which the belongings of a good many of them were being rapidly reduced to ashes, for the whole west wing was certainly doomed, and one is likely to witness some stirring scenes. The firemen worked like gnomes in the murk and smoke, and Shelby and Bolivar seemed to be everywhere, saving everything possible to save, with many willing hands from the neighborhood to help them. And some funny enough rescues were made. Sofa pillows were carried tenderly down two flights of stairs and deposited in places of safety upon the lawn by some conscientious mortal, while his co-worker heaved valuable cut gla.s.s from a third-story window, or pitched one of the girls' writing desks into the upstretched arms of a twelve-year-old boy who happened to stand beneath.

Mrs. Vincent was everywhere at once, keeping her girls from harm's way, and the other teachers kept their heads and cooperated with her. At least all but one did, and she was the one upon whom Mrs. Vincent would have counted most surely. When the fire was raging most fiercely Miss Sturgis returned from her visit and a moment later rushed away from the group of girls supposed to be under her especial charge, and disappeared within the house in spite of the firemen's orders that all should stand clear. The girls screamed and called after her but their voices were drowned in the uproar, and none knew that the incentive which spurred the half-frantic woman on was the photograph of the professor with whom she had gone automobiling the day of the fly-paper episode. Poor Miss Sturgis. Her first and only hint of a romance came pretty near proving her last.

Straight to her room in the west wing she rushed, stumbling over hose lines, battling against the stifling clouds of smoke which rolled down the corridor. The room was gained, the picture secured, and she turned to make good her escape, all other valuables forgotten. But even in that brief moment the smoke had become overpowering. Her room was dense. For a moment she sought for the door, growing more and more confused and stifled, then with a despairing moan she fell senseless. Luckily the flames were eating their relentless way in the other direction, the firemen fighting them inch by inch until they felt that they were winning the battle.

Meantime, down upon the lawn, the girls had found Mrs. Vincent and told her of Miss Sturgis' folly. She was beside herself with alarm. Men were sent in every direction to find her, but none for a moment suspected her of the utter fool-hardiness of returning to her own room in the blazing wing. But there was one person who did think of that possibility and she quickly imparted her fears to one other.

"She never would," cried Polly.

"She had something there she wanted to save. I don't know what, but she was so excited that she acted just like a crazy person, wringing her hands and crying just before she ran back; I saw her go. Wait! Tzaritza, find Miss Sturgis," said Peggy into the ears of the splendid hound who had never for a single moment left her side, and who had more than once caught hold of her skirts to draw her backward when a sudden volume of smoke or sparks shot upward.

For a moment the n.o.ble beast hesitated. Little had Miss Sturgis ever done to win Tzaritza's love and in her dog mind duty lay here. But the dear mistress' voice repeated the order and with a low bark of intelligence Tzaritza tore away into the burning building.

"Oh, call her back! Call her back! She will be burned to death" cried a dozen voices. Polly dropped upon the lawn and began to sob as though her heart would break. Peggy never moved, but with hands clinched, lips set and the look in her eyes of one who has sacrificed something inexpressibly dear she stood listening and waiting. When she felt most deeply Peggy became absolutely dumb.

Those minutes seemed like hours, then through an upper window giving on the piazza roof scrambled a singed, smoke-begrimed, and uncanny figure, dragging, tugging, and hauling with her a limp, unconscious woman. She made the sill, hauled her burden over to safety, then lifting it bodily carried it to the roof's edge, where putting it carefully beyond the volume of smoke now pouring from the window, she threw up her head and emitted howl upon howl for aid.

It was Shelby who heard and recognized that deep bay, who rushed with a ladder to the spot, and scrambling up like a monkey, caught up Miss Sturgis' seemingly lifeless form and carried her down the ladder, where a dozen willing hands waited to receive her, while Tzaritza's barks testified to her joy. Then back Shelby fled for the faithful creature, but just as he reached the roof a sheet of flame darted out of the window and enveloped her. In a second the exquisite silky coat was a-blaze, and poor Tzaritza's joyous barks became cries of agony.

"Quick, somebody down there hand me one of those blankets!" shouted Shelby.

Ere the words had left his lips a little figure scrambled up the ladder, a blanket in her arms. Polly had seen all and had not waited for orders.

Gym work back in Annapolis stood in good stead at that moment. Shelby flung the blanket about Tzaritza's sizzling fur, smothered out the flame, then by some herculean mustering of strength, caught the huge dog in his arms and crawled step by step down the ladder from which Polly had quickly scrambled. A dozen hands lent aid and poor burned Tzaritza was carried to the stables, Peggy and Polly close beside her. Others could now care for Miss Sturgis, who, indeed, was little the worse for her folly, while Tzaritza, the lovely coat quite gone, was moaning from her burns.

"Hear, Jim, you stay here and don't you leave Miss Peggy or that dog for a minute. Now mind what I tell you," he ordered.

Peggy knew exactly what to do. It was the Peggy Stewart of Severndale who worked over the suffering dog, bandaging, bathing, soothing, and Tzaritza's eyes spoke her grat.i.tude.

Several of the girls ran out to offer help or sympathy, and their tears testified to their love for Tzaritza.