CHAPTER XIV

SPIES.

The servant who admitted the Girl Scouts that night to the home of Miss Emeline Vaughn did not need to ask who the visitors were. He led them immediately to the drawing-room, where an elderly lady was sitting in a huge, upholstered arm-chair.

The first impression that the girls received of Alice’s aunt was of a tiny shrivelled old lady, with very bright, beady eyes, which shone out from beneath her white eyebrows with all the greater brilliancy. It was evident that she was excited, and she gave them a triumphant smile.

I knew that you’d make it! she exclaimed, in a shrill, though not a loud tone. I’ve been telling the boys all along. Now—which is Alice?

Her niece stepped forward instantly and gave her a dutiful kiss upon the cheek.

Let me introduce Mrs. Remington, our chaperone, first of all, the girl said. And now the scouts. Not that you’ll keep us all straight, or remember all our names—

Don’t you fool yourself! interrupted the old lady. I’m not decrepit yet, though I may look it. As it happens, I know all of your names already, and I’ll soon put them to the right people.

Marjorie and Ethel exchanged meaning glances at this piece of information. No doubt the woman was clever—clever enough even to cause the obstacles which they had encountered to be put in their way.

Which one is Marjorie? she continued. I understand that she is an officer of your band—or whatever you call it.

Lieutenant of the troop, replied Marjorie, with a salute.

Well, sit down now and tell me all about it. I’ll send for my nephews—they waited up for you.

The girls did as they were bidden and Mrs. Remington began a brief recital of their experiences. Before she had gone very far, the two young men of the house entered.

They were both typical Americans of the better class; neat, well-groomed, perfectly at ease in any surroundings. Marjorie could not help noticing a certain similarity of appearance to McDaniel and Cryton, a similarity that was due rather to environment than to any special resemblance. It was evident that they too were college men, and not surprising that they should be members of the same fraternity. For some unknown reason she took a dislike to them.

We were so afraid that you wouldn’t make it, drawled Milton, the older of the two. And when eleven o’clock struck and still you didn’t come, we felt sure you had lost the game.

And Auntie would have been so triumphant! added Vaughn. Because she really didn’t want you to succeed!

Vaughn Crowell, what a story! exclaimed the old lady, resentfully. I’m not the one that didn’t want them to succeed!

Only that you would get out of buying all those motor-cars, ventured Alice.

Maybe not, but what good would that have done me? Didn’t I promise the whole amount to your fraternity house if the girls didn’t succeed? But I’m mighty glad that they have been so plucky!

What did you say, Miss Vaughn? demanded Marjorie, sharply. That the fraternity would have benefited by our failure? She glanced significantly at Ethel.

You weren’t supposed to tell that, Auntie! remarked Milton, rather sheepishly. It looks rather queer for us!

It explains things, said Ethel, coolly. Because if I understand rightly, Mr. McDaniel and Mr. Cryton belong to the same fraternity, don’t they, Mr. Crowell?

Yes—do you know them? asked the young man carelessly.

We met them on the way out, more than once—several times, in fact. And each time they seemed bent on delaying us whenever they could!

Pshaw! exclaimed Vaughn; they never heard of Auntie’s promise. It was only made jokingly, and never mentioned to anyone.

No, put in Miss Vaughn, with sincerity, the boys really haven’t seen any college men since the term closed, and I have never even met these two. Now tell me truthfully—are you absolutely sure that you didn’t accept help from any men along the road?

Absolutely none! declared Mrs. Remington, with assurance.

I am glad to hear it, repeated the old lady. You bring credit to your sex as well as to your organization. Now, suppose that we have something to eat, and go to bed. We can talk about the automobiles tomorrow.

The girls lost no time in obeying her orders, and soon were fast asleep in the big, handsomely furnished rooms of this spacious house. In their dreams they saw themselves driving their little roadsters in their own home towns; for to all of them except Lily, the prospect of owning their own cars was a novelty.

Having given instructions that the Girl Scouts were not to be disturbed the following morning, Miss Vaughn breakfasted as usual with her two nephews at nine o’clock. After reading her mail, she established herself for a quiet morning on the porch with some books and her knitting, hardly expecting to hear anything further from the young people until luncheon. She was therefore quite surprised when her nephews strolled towards her about eleven o’clock, accompanied by two other young men with whom they had been playing tennis.

You have met Jo and Ned, haven’t you, Auntie? asked Milton, as they mounted the steps.

Oh, yes, of course, replied Miss Vaughn, cordially.

The young men all sat down on the steps, while the old lady could not help wondering what was about to happen, and whether there was any particular reason for the visit.

A pretty hot day for tennis, observed Vaughn, as if to apologize for the halt in the game. So we thought that we’d take it a bit easy.

Yes, added the one whom the boys addressed as Jo; we’re both out of practice. We’ve been east all summer.

Indeed! observed Miss Vaughn, wondering whether they were fishing for an invitation to meet the girls. If so, why had her nephews not invited them? Seldom did they show such deference to her wishes.

Did you motor? she asked, casually.

Yes, part of the time, replied Ned. It was great sport— His voice died down, as if he had something more that he wished to say, yet did not possess the courage to utter it.

We saw your party of girls along the way, put in Jo. At least, they must have been the same ones, for they were all in scout uniform, and were evidently touring.

Yes, I’d like to find out whether they were your Girls Scouts, added Ned, just for the fun of it. I am sure that I should recognize them immediately—

In other words, snapped the old lady sharply, you are hinting in every way possible for an invitation. Well, I’ll gratify you: come to dinner tonight!

Oh, thanks, murmured both young men, gratefully.

But to call your bluff, continued Miss Vaughn, how would you be able to identify people whom you merely saw in another machine—both probably going at a pretty good rate of speed?

But we weren’t, objected Ned Both the girls’ cars were stopped, and we went slowly; in fact, we practically stopped, so that we could offer assistance. Both their cars were in hard luck.

Punctures?

Yes—though the big one was fixed before we got there.

And the little one? questioned Miss Vaughn, with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. Those girls turned down your offer for help?

Yes, they did, replied Jo, stolidly.

I knew it! I knew they would!

Naturally, muttered Ned. Very naturally! Those two frat brothers of Milt’s were doing it all. We recognized them and beat it pretty quickly. Nobody has any chance with the ladies when they are around!

Miss Vaughn suddenly sat up very straight in her chair, twirling her rings excitedly.

What? What was that? she demanded, in her shrill voice.

Ned and Jo looked at each other in obvious amazement, as if they could not understand the cause of her disturbance, and both the Crowell boys laughed scornfully.

Let me explain, said Milton, a smile of amusement still playing about his mouth; my aunt is giving these girls cars for reaching the coast, if they comply with certain conditions she has made. And one of the most important of these conditions is that they do not accept any assistance from men along the road. She believes that they lived up to their contract; now you two come along innocently with a different story, and knock down their house of cards. Well, that’s too funny! His tone became cynical. I knew the girls couldn’t do it, Auntie! And just think how near they came to putting it over on you!

By this time Miss Vaughn’s anger had reached the breaking point; she rose from her chair and stamped her foot impetuously, in spite of her seventy-odd years.

You are sure of what you say? she demanded, hotly.

Sure of everything except the identity of the girls—and we’ll know that when we see them, replied Ned.

A sudden idea flashed into Miss Vaughn’s mind.

You’re not in the boys’ fraternity—the one that profits by the Girl Scouts’ loss? she asked shrewdly.

No, certainly not, answered Ned. Why?

Nothing! She seemed to be thinking quickly. She took a few steps towards the house, stopped as if to say something, changed her mind, and went in.

At first it was her intention to rush straight to the girls’ rooms, accuse them of the deceit, learn to what extent they had lied, and make all those who had a part in it forfeit their rewards. But a little consideration of the matter caused her to change her mind; after all it would be better to wait until their identity had been established and she was sure of her case.

It was nearly one o’clock when the scouts, refreshed by their sleep and clothed in their pretty dresses which had been sent ahead in trunks, appeared on the porch. They found their hostess alone; the tennis players had long since returned to their game.

Well, girls, she said cheerily, how does it feel to rest?

Wonderful! cried Alice, gaily. Almost too wonderful—for your sake, Auntie! I’m afraid that we’ll want to stay here a good while!

You’re welcome to stay all summer if you like, replied the old lady hospitably. In fact, you will have to be here some little time before your cars come. I haven’t even put in the order yet!

Then you didn’t expect us all to win them? asked Ethel.

No, frankly, I didn’t. And I want to be sure that you deserve them before you get them!

Then you’re not sure yet? flashed Alice, suspiciously.

There, don’t get so excited, my child! said her aunt. You need not worry now—if your conscience is clear. Nor is there, I take it, any hurry. Now let me tell you about the dinner party which I am arranging in your honor for tonight.

Daisy and Florence looked up expectantly, longing to ask whether their friends of the road were included. They wondered, too, whether they had called that morning as they had promised.

Miss Vaughn answered their question before they asked it.

Mr. Cryton and Mr. McDaniel called this morning, but I sent word that you girls were resting, and invited them to the party tonight. My two nephews will be here, and two young men with whom they have been playing tennis all morning.

Are they members of this same fraternity? asked Marjorie, irrelevantly.

No, laughed the old lady; they are eastern boys. But they motored across the continent, so they ought to prove interesting to you.

I am sure they will, murmured Alice, as the party rose to answer the luncheon summons.

The Crowell boys were a little late to the meal, but they entered the room with the same assurance which they had displayed on the previous evening, and Marjorie found her first feelings of dislike confirmed. As the luncheon progressed, she grew increasingly ill at ease; the beautiful, spacious dining-room, the noiseless servants, the delicious food went by unnoticed. Something was wrong, she knew; she could sense it before she could define it.

She glanced over at Ethel, and recognized the same evidence of distress in her expression. Something in her eyes, too, said, Trouble Ahead, and Marjorie looked away.

Both girls knew that as yet the cars were still only potential!