CHAPTER XVI.

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Completely dazed, quite ignorant as to where she was going, hardly knowing where she was, so quickly had events followed each other, Paula found herself on the upper deck of a ferryboat which was churning its way out of the New York slip, bound for Jersey City. At her side stood Tod, whose eyes, assisted by a powerful fieldglass, were riveted on the now fast-receding ferryhouse, trying to distinguish among the belated arrivals who had rushed up at the last minute, only to miss the boat, the disappointed faces of Mr. Cooley and Jimmy Marsh.

The day was superb, and in the swirling river, tinted a glorious blue by the bright sunshine, flocks of white seagulls rode buoyantly on the dancing waves. A magnificent view was before them. Ahead lay New Jersey and the wide stretch of land-locked water which forms Manhattan's matchless harbor. Close by, on the left, Governor's Island appeared as a splotch of inviting green in the blue expanse; farther South soared the noble figure of Liberty holding aloft the torch that enlightens the world. Away to the East smiled the green hills of Staten Island, and farther on were the fortified Narrows and Sandy Hook, with the open sea beyond.

The ever-busy river was literally alive with craft of every kind. The swift ferryboats hurrying from shore to shore, the countless little tugs, puffing and whistling as they darted, mosquito-like, here and there, graceful sailing vessels staggering along under clouds of canvas, stately ocean liners passing majestically out to sea—all this made up a spectacle of which the eye could never tire.

But both Paula and her escort were too much preoccupied to pay proper attention to the beauty of their surroundings. The eyes of both were turned anxiously in the direction of the receding shore.

"It's all right!" said Tod reassuringly, as he lowered the glass. "I don't see anything of them."

"Thank God for that!" exclaimed his companion, making a great effort to control her agitation.

"But that Cooley's certainly a bird!" went on the young man. "He guessed that it was I who put up the job on him. He knew that he could find you quickest by keeping close at my heels, so he and Jimmy jumped into a red taxi and shadowed my machine. I threw on all the speed I could, trying to get away. I went like the very mischief. I knocked over a fruit stand and nearly killed a policeman. But I couldn't shake them off. The red taxi was close behind me all the time. Just as I got near to the ferry the man was raising the draw. I yelled and shook a five-spot in his face. It worked like a charm. He lowered the drawbridge again, and I shot across."

His companion gave him a look in which gratitude and admiration mingled.

"How clever you are!" she smiled. "I should never have got away but for you. I was terribly frightened. When Mrs. Parkes came in and handed me your note I could have hugged her. I did not lose a minute, but put on my hat and ran downstairs. Harry Parkes hailed a cab for me, and I reached the ferry a few minutes before you arrived. I can't tell you how glad I was to get away. What did those horrible men want with me?"

He made no answer, hardly knowing what answer to make. How could he tell this intelligent, high-spirited girl, whose mental faculties were every bit as sound and keen as his own, that her unnatural uncle had sworn out an affidavit, committing her to the horrors of an insane asylum? The very idea of it was monstrous. Pretending that he had not heard the question, he directed Paula's attention to a schooner heavily laden with lumber which was coming down the river on the swift ebb tide. It was a pretty sight to see how gracefully she cut through the water. Notwithstanding the fact that she had only sail for motor power, the craft was going very fast, and Tod began to speculate idly whether their ferryboat would cross the stranger's bow or slow down to pass under her stern. But his companion, preoccupied with more serious thoughts, was not to be put off.

"Tell me," she repeated anxiously, "what did those horrid men want with me? What right had they to catechise me as they did?" He remained silent, and appealingly she went on: "Please don't hide anything from me. I want to know the truth."

He still hesitated. It was incredible of belief—too infamous a proceeding. Yet Cooley and his stepfather were acting well within the law. It was plainly a conspiracy to do this poor girl out of her rights, yet those scoundrels had the sanction of the Court for the action they were taking. After all, why should he hide anything from her? She would soon learn the terrible truth. It was his duty to let her know everything, so she might be forearmed.

His silence only alarmed her the more.

"It must be something serious," she exclaimed, "or you would tell me. What did those dreadful men want of me?" Peremptorily she said: "I wish you to tell me. I appeal to your honor as a man."

No longer able to restrain himself, Tod burst out:

"Pardon me if I express myself too emphatically, Miss Marsh, but I just can't keep it in any longer. You are the victim of as damnable a plot as was ever hatched outside of Hell! Your uncle, desperate at the nearness of your attaining your majority, wants to put you in a place where you will be powerless to interfere with his plans. Alleging that you are highly excitable and not responsible for your actions, they have secured from the Court an order committing you to the Tocquencke Asylum."

"Not that—my God! Not that!"

The young girl turned white as death, and with an exclamation of horror collapsed onto the seat. Her entire body trembled like a leaf.

"What have I done," she moaned, "that I should be persecuted in this way?" Looking up at her companion, her eyes filled with tears, she demanded: "Is it possible that they have the right—does the law give my uncle this power over me?"

He nodded affirmatively.

"Unfortunately it does," he replied. "The law is all wrong, but it's the law. All your uncle has to do is to secure the affidavit of two physicians that you are insane. You may be perfectly sane, but if it pleases these physicians to conclude otherwise you can be committed to an asylum."

"Then no one is safe!" cried the girl. "Any relative wishing, for reasons of his own, to get you out of the way could bribe two unscrupulous physicians and deprive you of your liberty!"

"Certainly," rejoined the young man. "There have been many cases of the sort. The process is very simple. In case the person can be made out as violently insane so as liable to do injury to some one, two physicians are called upon to examine the person and to make the necessary affidavit. Then on the petition of anybody interested in the person—your uncle, for instance—a Court can at once, on the statement of the physicians, commit the person to an asylum."

"Horrible!" cried Paula. "And these things can happen in free America? Surely there is some remedy?"

"Yes," he replied. "Anybody interested in the person, like a father, brother, next friend, or anybody else, can apply at any time they see fit, to a Judge of the Supreme Court, on a habeas corpus, and have the question of the sanity of the person tested. This may be done in open Court by a Judge, or he can send it to a referee, if he sees fit, where the proceedings are lengthy. This judge decides whether the person is sane or not. Of course if they had succeeded in putting you in the asylum Mr. Ricaby would have immediately applied for a habeas corpus."

Paula grew silent. How she wished herself back in Paris! It was all on account of that wretched inheritance! How she regretted having come to America to claim it! If she was nervous, who could wonder at it? The manoeuvres of her Uncle James, Mr. Cooley, and Dr. Zacharie were enough to unnerve any one. If they put her in an asylum, she would go really mad. She had heard and read so much of the terrors of private insane asylums. It was nothing but a living death. The horror of it seized upon her. Shaken by a sudden nervous trembling, she exclaimed fearfully:

"Don't let them take me, Mr. Chase! Please don't let them take me away!"

Tod put his arm around her sympathetically. He felt sorrier for her than he dare show. Never so much as now did he realize the place which this girl had taken in his life. Was it love? He did not know, but he certainly was more attracted to her than to any girl he had ever known.

"No—no," he said reassuringly. "You're safe from them now. The Court order which they have secured is only good in New York State. In a few more minutes we shall be in New Jersey. They can't touch you there."

"But afterward?" she asked. "What are we going to do when we get to Jersey."

Tod grinned.

"I haven't the remotest idea," he answered. "All I thought was getting away from those land sharks!"

"But I must go somewhere," insisted Paula, who was beginning to feel uneasy, now that the first excitement of the escape was over. Until now she had not had a moment's leisure in which to think matters over calmly.

"The important thing," said Tod decisively, "is to keep away from Messrs. Cooley, Marsh & Company. They must not know where you are. The best you can do is to go to Philadelphia, and engage rooms for an indefinite period at the Bellevue-Stratford. When I've seen you comfortably settled there I'll leave you and come back here to find Mr. Ricaby. Your lawyer must take immediate legal steps to have the committal order vacated on the ground of criminal conspiracy."

"But how can I go to Philadelphia in this?" cried Paula, looking down in dismay at the simple house dress she was wearing. "I had no time to change. Why, I haven't even a toothbrush!"

"Oh, that's nothing," rejoined Tod, with calm unconcern. "You can buy 'em by the dozen in Philadelphia. The main thing is to get you away as quickly as possible from the dangerous proximity of Mr. Cooley."

"Look out! Look out, there!"

A sudden warning shout from the group of passengers gathered in the fore part of the boat, followed by a succession of shrill blasts from the ferryboat's whistle, made them jump up with a start. They had been so busy talking that they had not paid much heed to what was going on around them. What they saw was sufficiently alarming.

The lumber craft, going fast with the strong tide, and having, in any case, the right of way, was close upon them. The pilot of the ferryboat, miscalculating the distance that separated one vessel from the other, put on speed and attempted to cross the schooner's bow. But it was too late. He had not taken into account the strength of the tide. The surrounding water was lashed into white foam as the ferryboat made frantic efforts to escape the impending blow. But a collision amidships was inevitable. The lumber boat came rushing on with the speed of an express locomotive. Then the pilot did the only thing he could do. To escape a blow, which, if well delivered, would have sent the ferryboat and its two hundred passengers to the bottom of the river, he gave his steering wheel a few quick twists. The ferryboat, obediently answering the helm, swung round, while the lumber craft, a mass of black and white sail cloth, bore down rapidly and seemed about to overwhelm and crush them. Women screamed, men shouted and tore down the racks containing the life belts. Deckhands ran excitedly about. The whistle was kept going continuously. For a few panicky moments pandemonium reigned.

"Good God!" cried Tod, snatching up a life belt. "It's an accident. Come, quick!"

But before Paula could move a step or even make reply there came a terrible shock, followed by the sound of smashing glass and the splintering of wood. Officers and deckhands ran about quieting the passengers, many of whom, seized by a frenzy of fear, were ready to jump into the water. The more self-possessed ones cried out:

"Keep cool! There is no danger."

Slowly the two boats drew apart and swung clear. Then it was seen that the ferryboat's injuries were merely superficial. The blow, fortunately, was only a glancing one. No damage had been done below the water line. The paddlebox was smashed to smithereens, and this was a serious enough mishap, for it left the ferryboat completely helpless, drifting with the tide. The whistle blew continuously, summoning assistance from the shore, and the schooner, seeing it could be of no assistance, proceeded down the stream.

"We're lucky it's no worse!" cried Tod, as he returned, after a tour of inspection, to where Paula was sitting. "We'll have to drift about a bit until they come and tow us into the Jersey City slip."

A deckhand who was passing heard the remark.

"Guess again!" he snickered. "Jersey nothing! It's New York we're going back to. See—they're after comin' out for us now."

With a jerk of his thumb he pointed to the Manhattan shore. A powerful tug had already left the New York slip and was puffing in their direction.

"Back to New York!" exclaimed Tod and Paula, in startled unison.

This outcome to their adventure they had certainly not foreseen. To be taken ignominiously back and made to walk right in the arms of their pursuers was something they hardly expected. Consternation was plainly written on the faces of both. Tod was not easily excited, but this contretemps was too much even for his self-composure. Addressing the deckhand, he cried excitedly:

"We can't go back to New York! It's out of the question! I'll go and see the captain."

The man grinned.

"I guess I'd leave the Cap'n alone, if I was yer," he said, with a dry chuckle. "He's thunderin' mad over the smash-up. There's no tellin' what he might do ter yer."

"But you don't understand," burst out Tod, with renewed energy. "There's a reason why this lady and I can't go back to New York. There are people there whom we're most anxious to avoid. We must get over to New Jersey without further delay. Can't you hail a passing tug for us, or lower a boat? I'll make it worth your while—see!"

He drew from his pocket a roll of money. The man laughed and shook his head.

"Pair of runaways, eh? Goin' ter git spliced in Jersey?" With an impudent stare at Paula, he added, with a laugh: "I don't blame yer. The gal's pretty, all right. But there's nothin' doin'. I don't want to lose me job. I guess it's New York fer yours, all right. Here comes the tug now!"

He ran forward just as the rescuing tug, puffing and snorting, came alongside. A rope was thrown up and made fast, and the tow back to the city began.

"Confound the fellow's impudence!" said Tod savagely. "If I wasn't in such a fix I'd punch his head."

Paula, pale and anxious, laid her hand on his arm.

"Never mind him!" she said. "What are we going to do about the others? That is more serious."

Tod, silent and thoughtful, was racking his brain to find some way out of this new dilemma. Yet there was nothing to be done. The accident had been noticed from the shore. Every one knew they must come back. They were trapped like two naughty children who had been caught playing truant from school. A nice laugh Cooley and Jimmy would have on him! Suddenly he turned to Paula.

"We've only one chance left," he said quickly, "and it's a very slim one. Come down to the lower deck. We'll get into the machine. Directly the boat touches the dock and the bridge is lowered, I'll let her go for all she's worth. There's a chance that in the general excitement we may be able to get past them. Come!"

It was a forlorn hope at best, but a drowning man will clutch at a straw. Slowly, like a limping, living thing, the helpless ferryboat entered the New York slip, pushed and coaxed into its berth by the rescuing tug. A large crowd of curious sightseers, gathered on the dock, followed the manoeuvres with interest. As Tod sat at the wheel of his machine, his frightened companion by his side, ready to dash forward the moment the boat was made fast, he scanned eagerly the sea of faces turned toward them. There was no sign of the enemy. Apparently the coast was clear. There was a bump as the boat reached the dock and a rattle of chains as the deckhands made fast. The drawbridge came down. Tod pulled the starting lever, and the machine shot forward. At that instant several police officers and a number of men, among whom Tod recognized Mr. Cooley and Jimmy Marsh, ran into the middle of the road and barred the way. A policeman held up his hand to Tod to stop.

Paula gave a little scream, while Tod let loose a flow of unprintable profanity. Mr. Cooley ran up to the car, his fat, bloated face congested with a combination of anger and triumph.

"Stop that car," he roared, "or I'll send you up for contempt of court!"

Yielding to superior forces, Tod stopped the machine. Mr. Cooley came up with a police officer. Pointing at Paula, the lawyer cried:

"That's the young lady. She is attempting to evade an order of the Court." Producing a legal paper, he added: "Here is the order committing her to my custody."

Paula again screamed and clung to her companion. The policeman, puzzled, glanced at the Court order. A crowd began to gather. Finally the officer, addressing Paula, said respectfully:

"Do you acknowledge that you are Paula Marsh, the person named in this paper?"

White as a sheet, ready to swoon from terror, the girl nodded faintly:

"Yes."

"Then you must go with this man," said the officer, pointing to Mr. Cooley.

"No, no! I won't— I won't!" she cried, clinging to Tod's arm.

"You had better go with him," he whispered gently. "It's best to avoid a scene. It won't be for long. Leave it to me. We'll soon get you out again. I'll see Ricaby at once, and to-morrow we'll swear out a habeas corpus. You'd better go quietly with him."

With an unobserved pressure of the hand, which he felt was returned, Tod silently said good-by. Paula slowly descended from the automobile. Turning to Mr. Cooley, she said, in a deliberate, dignified manner:

"Very well, Mr. Cooley, I am ready to accompany you."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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