CHAPTER X
THE FLITTING
Disappointed, Mrs. Chester had stepped back into her little hall, andthe postman with the detective followed. Then they went further stilland settled themselves in the parlor, as if come for a prolonged stay.To the detective's inquiry whether the missing Dorothy had recently metany strangers, made acquaintances who might be able to furnish some clewto her present whereabouts--as friends of longer standing had not beenable--the mother answered: "No. She was always at home or in theimmediate neighborhood."
But conquering her timidity, the country-woman now interrupted:
"Wait a minute. Mabel was here yesterday, wasn't she?"
"Why, yes. She came home with my little girl from Sunday school andspent part of the day. Why she did not stay longer I don't know. Whatof it?" returned mother Martha, drearily.
"She didn't stay longer because she was sent home. I was there and Inoticed what a good-natured child she was not to get mad about it. Shetold her mother that Dorothy had a gentleman caller and had to see himon business. We both laughed over it, 'cause 'twas so grown-up an'old-fashioned like. An', sister, she said as how city children didn'tscarce have any childhood, they begun to be beauin' each other round soearly. We _laughed_, but still, I thought 'twas a pity, for I likelittle girls to stay such, long as they can."
"Nonsense! My Dorothy is--was the simplest child in the world. Agentleman caller--the idea is ridiculous!" cried Mrs. Chester,indignantly, and poor Mrs. Jones felt herself snubbed and wished thatshe had held her tongue.
Not so the detective, who quietly asked:
"Who is this Mabel, and where can she be found?"
"She's my niece an' likely she'll be found in bed, by now. No matterabout that, though. If you'd like to see her I'll fetch her to once,"answered Mrs. Jones, promptly rising.
"Do so, please," said the officer, and the woman hurried away.
The postman friend employed the interval of her absence in telling theplans formed by "the boys" for the benefit of their ailing comrade.
"You see, Mrs. Chester, John's about the best liked man on the force andwe want he should be the best cared for. So, to-night, after I saw you Iran over to the hospital myself and saw one the doctors--the one thathas most to say about John. He wants to get him into the country rightaway. Then back I hurried and got leave of absence, from Wednesday nighttill next Monday morning, and I'm going with you, to help you on thetrip and see him settled all straight. No--Don't say a word yet! It'llbe all right. It's settled. You can get ready."
"Oh! but I can't, I can't!" protested Martha, deeply touched by thiskindness, yet feeling as if she were being fairly hurled out of her oldlife into the new one. Besides, if this mystery of Dorothy'sdisappearance were not cleared she could never leave the city, never!and so she stoutly declared.
"But--it's a case of adopted daughter _versus_ a husband's life, seemsto me," put in the detective quietly. "Moreover, I'm told by Lathrop,here, that Chester isn't to be worried about anything. _Anything._ Hischance of recovery depends on it."
The tortured housemistress was vastly relieved to see not only Mabel,but the entire household of Bruce-and-Jones, coming swiftly toward thehouse and presently entering at the doorway, left open because of thegreat heat. Both the plumber and his wife were panting from theirexertions; Mr. Jones was as excited as if he were going to a circus; hiswife uncommonly proud of her part in the occasion; and the terrifiedMabel weeping loudly:
"I don't know a thing! I don't--I don't!"
"Why, Miss Bruce, what a surprising statement from such a bright-lookingyoung lady as you!" exclaimed the detective, suavely, and the girlstopped sobbing long enough to see that this was no formidablepoliceman in blue-and-brass but a very simple gentleman, in a businesssuit rather the worse for wear. In another moment he had gallantlyplaced this possibly important witness in the coziest corner of thesofa, and had placed himself beside her, as if to protect her from theinquisitiveness of her friends.
Then in a tone so low that it effectually prevented their words beingoverheard, he deftly drew from the now reassured Mabel a much betterdescription of Dorothy's caller than fear would have extorted. Indeed,she became inclined to enlarge upon facts, as she saw her statementsrecorded in a small notebook. But this finally held no more than thebrief entry:
"Tall. Light hair. Left eye squints. Eyebrows meet. Glib. Name notgiven."
Then the notebook was closed and pocketed, the cross-examination wasover, and all were free to take a part in a discussion--which they didso volubly, that the detective smiled and called a halt. Moreover, hiswords had the weight of one who knew, as he said:
"We've gone into this business very promptly, and it must, for thepresent, be kept out of the newspapers, else the guilty party who isdetaining Dorothy--if there is such a party--will be warned and mayescape. It is but twelve hours since the child disappeared. At the endof another twenty-four will be time enough to publish. Meanwhile, Madam,rest assured that we shall keep steadily at work, trying to locate yourmissing daughter and--I wish you all good-evening."
The gentleman's departure was a relief. It seemed to lessen the horrorof Dorothy's absence, though her mother was glad to know that theefforts of the police were being made to trace her. But--Why, thedarling might come walking in, at any moment, and how distressed she'dbe to find herself an object of such unpleasant importance!
"Now, Mrs. Chester," said Mr. Lathrop, "we 'boys' don't want you toworry one minute about this moving business. We've agreed to send aprofessional packer and his men here, the first thing to-morrow morning.You needn't touch one thing. It's better that you should not, for ifall is left to this man he is responsible for everything. You justrest, visit John and get him braced up for his journey, and take iteasy. If little Dorothy is back before Thursday morning, when we start,all right. She shall go with us and be the life of the party. If sheisn't--why, as soon as she does come, some way will be found, somebody,to bring her safely to you."
"Oh, Mr. Lathrop! You and the 'boys' are goodness itself, but I can't--Icannot go away in such uncertainty. If Dorothy isn't found--John will bethe first one to say that we must wait until she is."
This was a natural attitude of mind, and Mr. Lathrop, as well as all theother friends of the Chesters, anticipated it. But by slow degrees, thearguments of her pastor, the hospital doctors, and the honest neighborswho sympathized with the tortured mother, finally succeeded in bringingher to view the matter as they did.
"Not an effort shall be relaxed, any more than if you were on the spotto direct us. We all feel as if we, too, had lost a beloved child andnone of us will rest until this mystery is cleared. Trust the advice ofall your best-wishers, Mrs. Chester, and take this fine chance offeredyour lame husband to make the long journey under the care of his postmanfriend," urged the minister, and his final argument procured herconsent.
"Oh! these last two days! Shall I ever forget them!" cried Mrs. Chester,when Wednesday evening had arrived and she sat in her dismantled homeupon one of her incoming tenant's chairs. "To think that on Mondaymorning, when you came, Mrs. Jones, I hadn't touched a single thing topack! and now--there isn't one left. All in boxes an' crates, over thereto the station; me all alone; no Dorothy C.; no John--I'm justheart-broke!"
Mrs. Jones's patience was tried. For these two busy days she and her"Bill" had stayed at No. 77, helping where help was needed, and keepinga careful eye to the "professional" packing which they more than halfdistrusted. The frail country-woman had just gone through the same sortof business, almost single-handed, and she felt that her new friendfailed to realize the blessings of her lot and that a reproof was inorder.
"Well, Mis' Chester, you may be. I can't tell. I never had chick norchild to make me sad or glad, ary one. But if I'd adopted one, right outof the streets as you did, an' she'd seen fit to run away an' turn herback on a good home, after enjoyin' it so long, an' I'd still got my_man_ left, an' folks had been that generous to me, payin' foreverything--Laws! I sh'd think I had some me
rcies left. _Some._"
Mother Martha rose. She was not offended, but she was deeply hurt andshe was glad the time had come to say good-bye. With a weary smile sheheld out her hand, saying:
"Well, that's right, too, but you don't understand. Nobody can whohasn't lived with _Dorothy_. There was never a child like her. Never.I'll be going. I said good-bye to everybody--everything, this side thecity, and I've fixed it to sleep at a boarding house right across thestreet from the Hospital. We've got to make an early start and I'll beclose on hand. If she--O my darling!--Good-bye. I--I hope you'll be ashappy here as I was before all this trouble came upon me. No. I don'twant company. I want to be alone. It's the only way I can bear itand--good-bye, old home! Good-bye--good-bye!"
The door opened and the mistress of the prettiest house on Brown Streetvanished into the darkness of a somber, sultry night; and what herfeelings were only those who have thus parted with a beloved home canunderstand; and what the hours of sleeplessness which followed only sheherself knew.
The morning found her sunshiny and bright, as if her whole heart were inthis sudden flitting, and waiting in the carriage at the hospital door,while an orderly and Mr. Lathrop, superintended by a nurse and doctor,helped John Chester to make his first short journey upon crutches.
The excitement of the event had sent a flush to his cheeks and abrightness to his eyes which made him look so like his old self that hiswife rejoiced that, after all, there had been no delay in their removal.Yet, once in the carriage, with his useless legs stretched out beforehim, he suddenly demanded:
"Why, where's my girl? Where's Dorothy C.?"
He looked toward his wife, but it was Mr. Lathrop who answered:
"Oh! she's coming later. We--we couldn't bother with a child, thistrip."
"Couldn't 'bother' with my Dorothy! Why, friend, you're the best I have,but you don't know Dorothy. Humph! She's more brains in her curly headthan anybody in this party has in theirs. Beg pardon, all, but--but yousee I'm rather daft on Dorothy. I simply cannot go without her. What'smore, I shan't even try."
This was worse than they had expected. Martha had felt that her husbandshould no longer be deceived as to the state of things; even in hisweakened condition she believed that his good sense would support himunder their dreadful trial, and that he would suffer less if the newswere gently broken to him here than if he were left to learn it later,in some ruder way. But her judgment had been overruled even as now hisdecision was; for without an instant's delay Mr. Lathrop ordered thecarriage to drive on and that memorable journey had begun.
As he was lifted out of the vehicle at the station entrance, he turnedupon his wife and for the first time in her memory of him spoke harshlyto her:
"Martha, you're deceiving me. Taking advantage of my helplessness.You've always been jealous of my love for little Dorothy, and now, Isuppose, just because I can't work to support her you've got rid of her.Well, I shall have her back. I may be a cripple, but my brain isn'tlame--it's only my legs--and I'll find some way to take care of her. Sheshall come back. Trust me. Now, go ahead!"
He submitted to the porter and his friend Lathrop, and, the train justrolling in, he was carried through the gates and placed aboard it in theparlor car where seats had been procured. He had never before traveledin such luxury, but instead of the gay abandon with which he would oncehave accepted and enjoyed it, he seemed now not to notice anythingabout him. Except that, just as the train was moving out, he caught at anewsboy hurrying from it, seized a paper, tossed a nickel, and spreadthe sheet open on his knee.
Alas! for all the over-wise precautions of his friends! The first wordshis eyes rested upon were the scare-head capitals of this sentence:
THE FATE OF POSTMAN JOHN CHESTER'S DAUGHTER DOROTHY STILL UNKNOWN--KIDNAPPING AND MURDER THE PROBABLE SOLUTION OF THE MYSTERY.
He stared at the letters as if they had no significance. Then he readthem singly, in pairs, in dozens--trying to make his shocked braincomprehend their meaning. The utmost he could do was to see them asletters of fire, printed on the air before him, and on the darkness ofthe tunnel they now entered. A darkness so suggestive of the misery thathad shrouded a once happy household that poor Martha, burying her facein her hands, could only sob aloud.
But from the stricken "father John" came neither sob nor groan, forthere was still upon him the numbness of the shock he had received; andit was in that same silence that he made the long journey, with itsseveral changes, and came at last to the farmhouse on the hilltop, whichwas to have been made glad by a child's presence and was now sodesolate.