  School the next day seemed almost unreal to Peggy. Or was it the dark alley and the night watch to come that was the unreal thing? Considered carefully, nothing seemed quite real, even her home and her parents in the neat, orderly world of Rockport. A ride on Socks around the autumn fields of Wisconsin would clear her mind, she thought, or just an hour alone in her favorite thinking spot in the harness room. Her thoughts, shuttling restlessly between the friendly barn and the now-sinister alley, were definitely not on her work, which was a lecture session on television acting technique. At lunch in the park, the discussion centered on the night’s work that waited for Pip and Tom Galen. It all seemed very melodramatic. “I’ve arranged with Tom,” Pip was saying, “to meet me downtown a little before six. We’re both going to wear black slacks and sweaters, and we’ll take black gloves. That way, we ought to melt into the shadows perfectly.” “How about your faces?” Connie giggled. “Are you going to go in blackface like a couple of Al Jolsons?” “We considered it,” Pip said seriously, “but we decided that it wasn’t necessary. If anyone comes, we’ll hold our gloved hands over our faces, and look through our fingers.” “I must say you’ve thought of everything,” Amy said in admiration. “Everything,” Pip echoed gloomily, “except what to do if we get caught. We even worked out something about that, but I don’t know how good it is.” “What have you worked out?” Peggy asked. “We’re supposed to call Randy at one in the morning to tell him that we’re going off duty. If we don’t call by then, he’s supposed to call the police. Tomorrow night, he and Mal will call me at one.” “That sounds sensible,” Peggy commented. “Sure. Sensible. But if they catch us, say, at ten o’clock, we could be in some pretty bad trouble by the time the police come around after one.” Feeling that this line of conversation was doing them no good at all, Peggy tried, with little success, to change the subject. By the time lunch was over and they had returned to the Academy, all four of them felt thoroughly depressed. Somehow, Peggy got through the afternoon. And somehow, she got through the night, but it was scarcely a restful one. She lay awake until one o’clock worrying about Pip and Tom, and finally, at one-fifteen, called Randy. He answered at the first ring, quite awake. “Did they call?” she asked. “At one o’clock sharp,” he assured her. “They haven’t seen anything at all, and they’re perfectly all right. Now get some sleep. Good night.” Feeling relieved, Peggy went back to bed, but it was not easy to sleep. What had seemed such a good idea yesterday was beginning to seem foolish today. The boys were engaging in unknown risks, and nobody knew what dangers they might encounter. Perhaps they should have gone to the police in the first place, and tried to convince them that something was amiss. Perhaps they should still do so.... Finally, she slept, troubled by vague, unpleasant dreams. The next day, her doubts grew stronger. Pip appeared at school late, looking like a molting owl. He had rings under his eyes and seemed not to have slept at all. “We decided to stay on until daylight,” he explained wanly, “just in case your idea that any action would take place between six and twelve was wrong. Nothing happened, and we left at five-thirty in the morning.” “But, Pip!” Peggy protested. “That’s a twelve-hour watch! You shouldn’t be in school today!” “It’s all right,” he assured her with a weak smile. “I’m rested. Slept from six until nearly nine.” He tackled his work gamely, but by noon agreed with Peggy that the wisest course would be to cut school for the afternoon and go home to sleep. “Remember,” she cautioned him, “you have to set your alarm clock for one in the morning, in case you don’t get a call from Randy and Mal.” “I’m going to do better than that,” Pip said. “I’m going to shut off the bell on my telephone so I can sleep straight through to midnight. Then I’ll have the alarm wake me, so I can turn the phone on, and I’ll set the alarm for one o’clock then.” Pip left, somewhat unsteadily, and Peggy went to her afternoon class on Elizabethan drama. She forced herself to concentrate, knowing that she would have more than enough time that night to worry about the mystery of the alley, and to speculate on what troubles the second night watch might bring. It was five-thirty and teatime at the Gramercy Arms when the troubles began. “Your redheaded boy friend’s on the phone for you, Peggy,” Greta announced from the head of the stairs. “He sounds worried.” Hurriedly putting down her teacup, Peggy ran from the kitchen and up to the phone in the hall. “Randy,” she said. “Is something wrong?” “I’m afraid so, Peggy,” he answered. “Nothing serious, but I’m afraid that Mal and I are going to be hopelessly late for our watch tonight, and unless you want to take a chance on missing whatever action might take place in the alley, Pip and Tom are going to have to cover it again. At least for the first few hours.” “What happened?” she asked. “Where are you?” “It’s my car,” he answered. “I had to go out to my family’s place on Long Island to get some stuff, and Mal came along for the ride. We thought we’d have plenty of time, but on the way back, the car broke down. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and the trouble will take at least another hour to fix. That means that we couldn’t possibly be at the alley until about seven-thirty, and, to tell the truth, eight or nine would be more like it. Will you get hold of Pip and Tom and tell them the sad news?” Peggy agreed, wished him good luck with the car, and hung up. Pip’s phone didn’t answer, and after ringing for several minutes, Peggy remembered his decision to shut off the bell until midnight. She next tried the midtown hotel where Tom Galen lived, but he was not in his room, and the desk clerk had not seen him for several hours. Hurrying downstairs to the kitchen and her now cold cup of tea, she broke the news to Amy. “Well, maybe nothing will happen before eight or nine,” Amy said hopefully, but not looking too convinced. “I’m afraid that if anything is going to happen, that’s just about the time for it,” Peggy said. “The neighborhood doesn’t really empty out until after six, and it starts to get busy again a little before midnight. If I wanted to do any work in that alley, I think I’d plan to arrive by eight and leave by ten, if it could be done.” “Nothing happened last night,” Amy said, “so maybe nothing will happen tonight either.” “I’m going to have to disagree again. Just because nothing happened last night, I think that we stand a better chance of seeing something tonight. Judging from the used condition of that doorsill, whoever’s using the place doesn’t let too much time go by between visits.” “But what can we do about it?” Amy said. “With Randy and Mal out on Long Island, and Pip and Tom unreachable, that leaves only us.” “I know,” Peggy said firmly. “And that’s who’s going to go tonight!” “Oh, Peggy! Do you think we ought to?” Amy asked. “I mean, it might be dangerous, and we are a couple of girls, and....” “This is no time to play the feminine Southern belle,” Peggy said. “We have to go. And besides, there’s no danger. It’s not as if we’ll be seen, or as if we meant to rush out and stop the crooks if we see them! We’ll just hide under the stairs and watch. Anyway, even if you don’t want to go, you can’t stop me.” “That settles it,” Amy said with conviction. “You’re not going to go to that place alone. When do we start?” “Right now!” Peggy said eagerly. “It’s almost six o’clock, and we haven’t got too much time to get there before it’s dark. Come on! We have to get dressed for the occasion!” |
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