CHAPTER XIII. A BAG OF GOLD

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Doris sang softly to herself as she busily unpacked the lunch baskets and spread the long table in the living-room. The tea kettle was soon humming on the stove and bacon was sizzling in the frying pan.

“We’ll have an early supper,” she was thinking, “and I’m going to suggest that we start home early, too. Our parents will have heard about the holdup and they’ll be terribly worried. I do hope Mother, ill as she is, won’t hear of it, but of course she won’t. That’s the advantage of having a trained nurse with her all the time.” Then, she glanced at her skates lying near the door. “I suppose they’re disappointed not to get out on the ice. Well, so am I, but my ankle doesn’t feel as strong as I had hoped it would. I turned it a little getting into the sleigh, and I don’t want to sprain it again as I did last winter.” She opened a box which Bertha had brought.

“Yum! Yum!” she said aloud. “What delicious tarts!” Then she counted them. “Two apiece! I’m glad they’re big ones.”

Carrying them into the living-room, she placed them around on the long table, then, stopping to sniff, she darted back into the kitchen to turn the strips of sizzling bacon. A few minutes later she returned to the living-room with a huge plate of sandwiches. Suddenly she stood still and stared at the door of a small closet. She thought she had seen it move just ever so slightly. She knew that it had been locked, for Bob tried it just before he went out to skate.

The crack widened and Doris saw eyes peering out at her. Wildly she screamed, but the windows were closed and no one heard.

She started to run, when a familiar voice called, “Doris, don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you. It’s Danny O’Neil.”

The girl turned in amazement toward the boy to whom she had been talking not six hours before.

“Danny,” the girl gasped, “what are you doing here?”

The boy looked around wildly: “I—I was the one who robbed old Mr. Bartlett,” he said rapidly. “I didn’t set out to do it, Doris! Honest, I didn’t! I was just a running away from home. Pa has been so hard on me ever since Ma died, and so I thought I’d clear out of it all, but I didn’t have any money. And then this morning, when you told me how Ma wanted me to get money and go to art school, well, I don’t know, Doris, what did happen to my brain, but I was just crazy mad to get money and get away from that man who calls himself my father. After you left I started walking to town. I didn’t even know I was doing it till I got to the bank. Then I saw Old Man Bartlett stuffing all that money in his handbag and I followed him, hiding behind trees, till he got to the wood road—then—I don’t know what I did—knocked him over, I guess. There was a long rope, one end tied to a tree, and I wound it about him, then I took his bag and ran.”

“But how did you get in here, Danny? The doors and windows were all locked and we didn’t see any tracks.”

“I know! I stepped on the places where the snow was blown away and I climbed to the roof and came down the chimney. Then I went in that closet and locked the door on the inside. But, Doris, I don’t want the money. All these long hours there in the dark I’ve been seeing Mom’s face looking at me so reproachful, and she kept saying, ‘Danny-boy, you promised me you’d go straight.’ If she’d a lived, Doris, I’d have been different, but ’tisn’t home without her.”

The lad drew his coat sleeve over his eyes, then he said gloomily: “The sheriff will be hunting for me and they’ll put me in jail, but anyhow, here’s the money. Take it back to Old Man Bartlett and tell him I didn’t really mean to rob him. I did it just sudden-like, without thinking.”

There were tears in the eyes of the girl and she held out her hand: “Danny,” she said, “I know how lonely you’ve been without your mother and I’ll help you. Quick, hide! Someone is coming.”

Danny darted back and locked himself in the closet. Doris hid the bag of gold and hurried toward the front door. Someone was pounding and she was sure it was the sheriff.

When Doris opened the heavy wooden door, she found that her surmise had been correct. Mr. Ross, the sheriff, stood without, and waiting near were several other men on horseback.

“Oh. Miss Drexel, it’s you, is it?” The sheriff was evidently much surprised. “We saw smoke coming from the chimney and believed that we had cornered our highwayman. Thought he might be hiding here. Of course it would be a daring thing to make a fire in a deserted cabin, but these criminals are a bold, hardened lot. Who else is with you, Miss Drexel? I guess I’ll step inside, if you don’t mind. No use holding the door open and letting the heat all out.”

The sheriff entered and closed the door, then he went to the fireplace and held his hands over the blaze.

Doris’s heart was filled with a new fear. What if Danny should make a sound of some sort and betray his hiding place? Hurriedly she said: “All of our crowd is here. Mr. Ross. There are seven boys and as many girls, but the rest of them are out on the ice skating. I remained in the cabin to prepare our supper.”

The sheriff straightened and leaned his back against the closet door as he said: “Miss Drexel, because of this robbery, I feel it my duty to tell you and your friends that you would better return to town as soon as you have had your lunch. It gets dark early these wintry days and there’s no telling what might happen.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ross.” Doris said, “I will tell the boys when they come in.”

When the sheriff was gone, the girl closed and bolted the front door, then she tapped on the closet, saying softly: “Come out, Danny. I have a plan to suggest. Bob and the rest of them may be in at any minute.”

Then, when the lad appeared, she added: “I want you to take my skates, fling them over your shoulder, and go boldly out of the front door and up the lake road. Anyone, seeing you leave here, will think you are one of our party. Whistle and stride along as though you were out for fun. Half a mile above, as you know, the lake is narrow. Skate across and go back to your work at Colonel Wainright’s, but before you go, Danny, promise me that from now on you’ll be the kind of a boy your mother wanted you to be.”

The lad held out his hand and, with tears falling unheeded, he said huskily: “I give you my word, Doris. You’ve been my good angel and saved me from nobody knows what.”

Then he shouldered the skates and started down the snowy road with long strides, whistling fearlessly. A load had been lifted from his heart and he was sure that his mother had forgiven him.

Doris watched him until he disappeared beyond a bend in the road and then she breathed a sigh of relief. She heard a stamping without and the laughing young people swarmed into the kitchen.

“Ho, Doris, who was the chap that just went by?” Bob called—but before the girl could reply, something else happened to attract their attention. Bertha, in the kitchen, was crying in dismay: “Where is the cook? What has she been doing? We’ll have to discharge her. I’m thinking. The bacon is burned to a cinder.”

Doris, thankful indeed for this timely interruption, ran into the kitchen and declared remorsefully: “Oh, isn’t that too bad, and I suppose you are all hungry as bears, but luckily I brought an extra supply. Throw that out, Bertha, please, and I’ll get some more.” Then, as she searched in her basket, she added hurriedly: “I suppose I left it burn while the sheriff was here.”

“The sheriff!” was the surprised chorus.

“Why, what did he want?” Jack asked. “He didn’t suppose that we had the highwayman here as one of our guests, did he?”

Doris purposely did not look at any of them as she put the strips of bacon into the pan which Bertha had prepared. “Oh, Sheriff Ross and his men were just passing by,” she said with an effort at indifference, “and so he thought he would stop and ask us if we had any idea where the bold robber might be.”

“He is wasting his time,” Bob declared. “I am positive that Dorchester holds his man by this time.”

Peggy and Dick Jensen entered the kitchen at this moment and the girl exclaimed: “Oh, Doris, I’ve had bad luck. I broke one of my straps, but since you aren’t going to skate today, may I take one of yours?”

What could Doris say? How could she explain the absence of her skates? She was busy at the stove and she pretended that she had not heard, but before the other girl could repeat her question, Bob called: “Here’s one for you, Peg. I always carry an extra strap in my pocket.”

Doris again breathed a sigh of relief, but it was a short one, for, a second later, she thought of something which set her heart to throbbing wildly.

The bag of gold! She had hidden it under a cushion on one of the chairs when the sheriff was knocking.

The seven boys were now in the living-room and she heard Bob teasingly say: “Jack, you’re the oldest. Sit down in this grandfather’s chair and see what you’re coming to.”

That old-fashioned armchair was the very one where the bag of gold was hidden. In another moment Jack would be sitting on it.

“Here, Bertha!” Doris called wildly. “Please turn the bacon. I must sit down for a moment. I feel faint!”

Rushing into the living-room, the girl sank into the grandfather’s chair just as Jack was about to occupy it.

“Why, Doris,” Dick exclaimed, “you look as white as a sheet! Are you ill?”

“I guess it must have been the heat from the stove or—or something,” was the vague reply. Doris was thinking wildly. How could she get the money from beneath the chair cushion with thirteen boys and girls bringing her water and watching her every move with troubled solicitude.

The skating party, which had started out so merrily, seemed destined to be a succession of troubled events. The boys and girls, gazing anxiously at the pale face of their friend, had not the slightest suspicion of the real facts, supposing only that Doris was suddenly faint.

“Perhaps it is caused by the wrench that you gave your ankle this morning,” Bertha said; then added self-rebukingly: “I had completely forgotten it, Doris, or I would not have permitted you to stand for the past hour and prepare our supper.”

The object of their solicitation, believing that for the time being the gold was safe, smiled up at them as she exclaimed brightly: “Oh, I’m just lots better now. Please, all of you sit down and eat your lunch or the bacon will be cold instead of burned. I’ll just sit here and watch you. Why, yes, thank you, Bob, I would like a cup of cocoa,” she added to the lad who offered to bring it.

While Doris was slowly sipping the hot drink, she closely watched the others as they sat about the table and began to pass the tempting viands. When she believed that no one was observing her, she slipped a hand down under the cushion of the chair and grasped the bag of gold. Then, hiding it under her apron, she arose to carry her cup to the kitchen.

Bob sprang to assist her, but Doris laughingly waved him back. “I’m as good as new, Bobbie,” she said. “I’ll be right back, so save me some food.”

Upon reaching the kitchen she looked around hastily to see where she could again hide the money. A drawer being partly open, she thrust the bag to a far corner and, with a sigh of relief, she went into the living-room and sank down on the part of the long bench which had been reserved for her.

Bob looked at her curiously. It seemed strange to him that after a fainting spell one could suddenly be so ravenously hungry, but he said nothing and tried with his usual witty nonsense to make the meal a merry one.

It was just as they were rising from the table that Bob saw something. that caused him to stare in amazement. Luckily no one noticed him as the girls were good-naturedly disputing about the matter of dish-washing, and the boys were donning their great coats and caps preparing to return to the ice.

What Bob saw was the door of the closet standing ajar, and well he knew that when they had first arrived, the door had not only been locked but the key had been nowhere in evidence.

What could it mean? he wondered, and again he glanced curiously at Doris.

Then he said with assumed gaiety: “Girls, stop squabbling and get into your things and go skating with the boys. I’ll remain in the cabin and help Doris repack the baskets. Since she cannot skate, I’ll stay and be her brave and bold protector.”

When they were alone the lad turned to the girl, whom he had known since her baby days, and he said kindly: “Now, Doris, tell me what is troubling you. What has happened?”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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