Quill's Window Part 44

"Good night, Charlie," she broke in abruptly. "Thank you for coming to meet me. You--you are the best, the dearest man in the world.

I--"

"You needen't thank me for standin' up for Davy Strong. That's what you're really thankin' me for, you know," said he. "I've always loved that boy, Alix." She pressed his hand. "That's good!" he cried fervently. "I love him so much I wish he was sitting right here where I'm sitting now. I'll bet he'd be the happiest feller in all--Well, so long, Alix. You've had a hard day. I won't make it any worse for you by talking about David Strong. I know how much you hate him. Just the same, I wish he was sitting here in my place."

"So do I, Charlie," she confessed, with a deep sigh.

"So's you could hate him to your heart's content, eh?" he chaffed.

"Yes," she murmured,--"to my heart's content."

"Well, I've got to get busy," he exclaimed briskly. "Can't sit here talkin' nonsense to you when there's so much to do. Link Pollock and Doc and Tintype are waiting for me down at the Tavern. I promised to hurry back with the car. That reminds me, Alix. We're going to use your car to go hunting in. I guess you don't mind, do you?"

She spoke to the chauffeur as she got out. "Take Mr. Webster wherever he wants to go, Ed. I shall not need the car until eleven o'clock in the morning."

Mrs. Strong was waiting up for her. There was a big fire in the living-room, and a tray with hot coffee and toast on a table beside the comfortable chair that had been drawn up near the fender.

Alix dropped wearily into the chair and stretched her booted, pantalooned legs out in complete relaxation.

"You poor child," cried Mrs. Strong. "You're all done up. My, but you're white and tired-looking. It's been a terrible strain. Sit still now and I'll take your hat off for you. Better have your coat and boots off, too, dear. Hilda will have a hot bath ready for you whenever you're ready to--"

"I suppose you know they've found her, Auntie? In the river."

"Yes. Ed told me. Now, don't talk about it. Here's some hot coffee."

"Never mind my coat. I'm too tired. You know about Courtney Thane?"

"I only know they're hunting for him. There's a man out in the kitchen. Is--is it in connection with Rosabel's death?"

"No. Thank you, Auntie. That feels better. I haven't had it off since morning. Charlie told me about Thane, but I am not sure whether I can get it straight. He was so excited,--and I was so distressed."

Her voice was low and husky with fatigue and emotion; it was apparent that she controlled it with difficulty. In her dark eyes there was a brooding, haunted look. She repeated as best she could Charlie's rambling, disjointed story.

"And just to think," cried Mrs. Strong at the end, "you let that beast kiss you and--"

"Oh, don't! Don't!" cried the girl, covering her eyes with her hands. "I can't bear the thought of it. I wasn't myself. I don't know what came over--"

"There, there! Don't think about it any more. It's all right now.

And you're not the only woman that's lost her head since G.o.d made Adam, my dear. It's pretty hard not to sometimes. You--"

"Oh, I couldn't,--I COULDN'T have done anything bad. I couldn't--"

"G.o.d bless you, of course you couldn't," cried the older woman, stroking the girl's hair. "Do you think this coffee will keep you awake?" She poured out a steaming cup and dropped two lumps of sugar into it.

"I sha'n't go to sleep anyway, Auntie, so--"

The ringing of the door bell startled them. Alix sprang to her feet in alarm.

"Don't go to the door!" she cried. "It's--it's Courtney Thane!"

"Nonsense! He'll not be coming here. Sit down. I'll inquire who it is before I open the door."

"Under no circ.u.mstances are you to let him in, Mrs. Strong," ordered Alix peremptorily.

"I should say not! It would look pretty, wouldn't it, if the papers came out and said the notorious bandit was captured in the home of Miss Alix Crown, the beautiful and wealthy heiress? They always--"

The bell rang again. "Put the cream in yourself, Alix. I'll see who it is."

Alix followed her with anxious, apprehensive eyes as she pa.s.sed into the hall. She heard the following dialogue:

"Who is it?"

"Does Miss Crown live here?" came in a clear, boyish voice from the outside.

"She does. Who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm a messenger boy. I got a letter for her."

"A letter? Who's it from?"

"Say, open up! I can't stand out here all night."

"Who is it from?" repeated Mrs. Strong firmly.

"How do I know? I ain't no mind-reader."

Mrs. Strong looked in at Alix. "I guess it's all right, isn't it?"

"Open the door," said Alix quietly.

A small, shivering messenger boy in uniform entered.

"Are you Miss Crown?"

"No, I'm not. Where's the letter?"

"I got to deliver it to her. If she ain't here I'm to wait. I got to get an answer."

Alix came forward. "I am Miss Crown. Come in, my boy, and warm yourself by the fire."

"Sign here," said the boy, indicating a line in his receipt book.

While Alix was signing her name, Mrs. Strong looked the boy over.

"Dear me, you must be nearly frozen, child. No overcoat on a night like this. Did you come all the way out here from the city on a bicycle?"

"Give him some coffee, Mrs. Strong," said Alix, handing back the book and receiving the envelope in return.

"I got a taxi waiting for me out in front," said the boy. "Say, what's goin' on in this burg? We been held up three times, and just now a man stopped me out here in the yard and--"

"What's the matter, Alix?" cried Mrs. Strong.