Read Nothing But the Truth Page 19


  CHAPTER XIX--BOB FORGETS HIMSELF

  "Miss Gerald," said Bob as formally as if he were quoting from one ofthose deportment books, "may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

  Her reply was at variance with what "How to Behave in the Best Society"taught young ladies to say. "Why do you ask?" said Gwendoline Geraldquietly.

  "Got to," said Bob.

  "Why have you got to?"

  "I promised I would."

  "Who made you promise?"

  Bob told.

  "Do you have to do what she tells you?"

  "In this instance."

  "Of course you know what my reply will be?"

  "I told her you would refuse."

  "You would hardly expect me to dance with you after all I know aboutyou, would you?" There was still that deadly quietness in her tones.

  "All you think you know about me," Bob had the courage to correct her."Of course not."

  "Some one has taken one of my rings," observed Miss Gerald even morequietly.

  "I haven't got it," exclaimed Bob. "Honest!" Wasn't he glad he had gotrid of it?

  The violet eyes studied Bob as if he were something strange andinanimate--an odd kind of a pebble or a shell. "You are sure?" said MissGwendoline.

  "Positive," answered Bob in his most confident tones. He remembered nowthat during his dance with the jolly little pal he had observed themonocle-man talking with Miss Gerald. Perhaps he had told her he hadseen the ring in Bob's fingers when the latter had gone to the window.The monocle-man might have been spying all the while, on the other side.There might have been two Peeping Toms interested in Bob's actions inthe billiard room.

  "Are you so positive you would be willing to submit to be searched?"

  "I am that positive," Bob answered. And then went on more eagerly:"Maybe you haven't really lost it after all." He could say that andstill tell the truth. "Why, it may be in your room now. You may find iton your table or your dresser when you go upstairs to retire."

  Miss Gerald looked at him. "You seem to be rather certain?" she saidtentatively.

  "I am," said Bob. "I'd almost swear--" He stopped suddenly. It wouldn'tdo to be too certain.

  "Don't you find your own words rather strange?" the girl asked.

  "Everything's funny about me, nowadays," said Bob.

  "Did you enjoy renewing your acquaintance with Miss ----?" She calledGee-gee by that other, more conventional name.

  "I did not. I dislike her profoundly."

  "Are you sure?" The violet eyes were almost meditative. "Now I shouldhave thought--" She paused. Bob read the thought, however. A man likehim was on a plane with Gee-gee; indeed, much lower. Miss Gerald wouldbe finding in Gee-gee Bob's affinity next.

  "You haven't refused me out-and-out, yet," he suggested. "To dance, Imean."

  "You would rather, of course, I did refuse you?"

  "Of course," Bob stammered. The mere thought of dancing with her onceagain as of yore gave him a sensation of exquisite pain. But naturallyshe would never dream of dancing with one she considered a--?

  "Well, you may have the pleasure," she said mockingly.

  Bob could not credit his hearing. She would permit him to touch her.Incredible! A great awe fell over him. He could not believe.

  "I said you might have the pleasure," she repeated, accenting in theleast the last word.

  Bob caught that accent. Ah, she knew then, what exquisite pain it wouldbe for him to dance with her! She was purposely punishing him; shewished to make him suffer. She would drive a gimlet in his heart andturn it around. Bob somehow got his arm about his divinity and foundhimself floating around the room, experiencing that dual sensation ofbeing in heaven and in the other place at one and the same time.

  It was a weird and wonderful dance. Through it all he kept looking downat her hair, though its brightness seemed to dazzle him. Miss Dolly hadconfided to Bob that he "guided divinely," but he didn't guide divinelynow; he was too bewildered. Once he bumped his divinity into some oneand this did not improve his mental condition. But she bore with himwith deadly patience; she was bound to punish him thoroughly, it seemed.

  Then that dual sensation in Bob's breast began gradually to partake moreof heaven than of the other place, and he yielded to the pure andunadulterated joy of the divinity's propinquity. He forgot there was abig black blot on his escutcheon, or character. He ceased to remember hewas a renegade and criminal. The nearness of the proud golden head sethis heart singing until tempestuously and temerariously he flung threewords at her, telepathically, from the throbbing depths of his soul.

  The dance ending abruptly "brought him to." He looked around ratherdazed; then struggling to awake, gazed at her. Her face still wore thatexpression of deadly calm and pride. Bob didn't understand. She was nostatue, he would have sworn, yet now she looked one--for him. And amoment before she had seemed radiantly, gloriously alive--no Galateabefore the awakening! It was as if she had felt all the vibrating joy ofthe dance. But that, of course, could not have been. Bob felt likerubbing his eyes when he regarded her. He did not understand unless--

  She wished once more to "rub it in," to make him realize again morepoignantly all that he had lost. She let him have a fuller glimpse ofheaven just to hurl him from it. She liked to see him go plunging downinto the dark voids of despair. He yielded entirely to that descendingfeeling now; he couldn't help it.

  "I thank you," said Bob, in his best deportment-book manner.

  The enigmatic violet eyes lighted as they rested on him. Bob would havesworn it was a cruel light. "Oh," she said, "as long as you are aguest--? There are certain formalities--"

  "I understand," he returned.

  The light in the violet eyes deepened and sparkled. So a cruel Romanlady might have regarded a gladiator in the arena, answering his appealwith "Thumbs down." Bob lifted his hand to his brow. The girl's proudlips--lips to dream of--were curved as in cruel disdain. Then Bob forgothimself again.

  "I won't have you look at me like that," he said masterfully. "I'm not acriminal. Confound it, it's preposterous. I didn't steal your ring and Iwant you to know it, too. I never stole a thing in my life." They werestanding somewhat apart, where they couldn't be overheard. He spoke in alow tone but with force, gazing boldly and unafraid now into the violeteyes.

  "I won't let you think that of me," he said, stepping nearer. "Stealfrom you?" he scoffed. "Do you know the only thing I'd like to stealfrom you?" His eyes challenged hers; the violet eyes didn't shrink."Yourself! I'd like to steal you, but hang your rings!" He didn't say"hang"; he used the other word. He forgot himself completely.

  A garden of wild roses blossomed on the girl's fair cheek, but she heldherself with rare composure. "I wonder, Mr. Bennett," she observedquietly, "how I should answer such mad irresponsible talk?"

  "It's the truth. And if I were a thief--which I'm not--I wouldn't stealyour rings. Even a thief wouldn't steal the rings of the girl he loves."

  More roses! Outraged flushing, no doubt! Yet still the girl managed tomaintain her composure. "You dare go very far, do you not, Mr. Bennett?"

  "Yes; and I'll go further. I love every hair of your head. Even whenyou're cruel," he hurried on recklessly, "and heaven knows you can becruel enough, I love you. I love your lips when they say the unkindestand most outrageous things to me. I love your eyes when they look scorn.I ought not to love you, but I do. Why, I loved you the first time I sawyou. And do you think if I were all those things you think me, I'd darestand up here and tell you that? I didn't mean to tell you ever that Iloved you. But that's my answer when you imply I'm a rank criminal. Aman's got to have a clear conscience to love you as I do. Such love canonly go with a clear conscience. Why, you're so wonderful and beautifulto me I couldn't--" Bob paused. "Don't you see the point?" he appealedto her. "A man couldn't have you in his heart and not have the right tohold up his head among his fellow men."

  Miss Gerald did not at once answer; she had not moved. The sweeping darklashes were lowered; she
was looking down. "You plead your cause veryingeniously, Mr. Bennett," she observed at length, her lashes suddenlyuplifting. The lights were still there in the violet eyes; they seemedyet mocking him. "You invoke the sacred name of love as a proof of yourinnocence. The argument is unique if not logical," she went on withpitiless accents and the red lips that uttered the "sacred name of love"smiled. "I have been rather interested, however, in following yoursomewhat fantastic defense of yourself. That it has incidentallyinvolved me is also mildly interesting. Do you expect me to feelflattered?" The red lips still smiled. Bob was quite near but she didn'tmove away. She seemed quite unafraid of him.

  "You needn't feel ashamed," said Bob sturdily. And his eyes flashed.They seemed to say no woman ought to be ashamed of an honest man's love."I may be mad over you," he went on, "but I'm not ashamed of it. Thereisn't a thought I have of you that doesn't make me want to be a betterman, and a stronger and more useful one, too," he added, squaring hisshoulders.

  Again the long lashes swept slightly downward, masking the violet, andthe girl's lips moved--a ripple of amusement, no doubt. She looked up,however, once more with that appearance of deadly calm. "Then you denyit, in toto, having seen my ring to-night?"

  Bob swallowed. Again he dropped from the heights.

  "You do not speak," said Miss Gerald, studying him.

  "I--wish you wouldn't ask me that," he managed to say.

  "Why not?" lifting her brows. "Even if you saw it you could say youhadn't."

  "That's just the point," Miserably. "I couldn't."

  "Then you did see it?"

  "I did."

  "You had it, perhaps?"

  "I did."

  "You have it now?"

  "No."

  "Ah, you have passed it on to an accomplice, perhaps." Mockingly. MissGerald drew up her proud figure. "And this is the man," she said, "whotalks to me of love. Love!" With a low musical laugh. "The tenderestpassion! The purest one! Dare you repeat now," with crushing triumph inthe violet eyes, "what you said a moment ago."

  "I love you," said Bob, with burning glance. "I shall carry your imagewith me to the grave."

  This slightly staggered even one of her regal young bearing. His tonewas that of the master once more. No criminal in his look when he saidthat! Miss Gerald's slender figure swayed in the least; her breaststirred. Bob put his handsome reckless face nearer. That was the way heanswered her challenge. He wore his fighting look.

  "I love you," he said. "And that," he flung at her, "is still the answerI dare make."

  Miss Gerald did not reply to this bold defiance at once. How she wouldhave answered, Bob never knew, for at that moment the hammer-throwercame up and the girl at once turned to him, looking slightly paler asshe did so. Both then walked away, Bob's somber gaze following them. Buthe was not long permitted even this mournful privilege.

  "Phone, sir," said a voice at his elbow. "Mr. Robert Bennett is urgentlywanted on the phone."

  "All right." And Bob followed the servant. "What now?" he asked himselfwearily.

  The voice at the other end was Dan's. Fortunately the telephone wasisolated and no one in the house could catch what Bob said. The good oldcommodore frantically wished to know all about Gee-gee and Gid-up. Hehad heard that Bob had got out of the sanatorium and gone back to Mrs.Ralston's. Dan's desire for information was greater even than hisresentment toward Bob, as he had stooped to calling him up.

  Bob obliged the commodore with such news as he could give. He told howhe had tried unsuccessfully to sway Gee-gee and to show her the error ofher ways; how she, however, seemed resolutely determined on her courseof action and was not to be swayed. He related also that there was alegal light in the house.

  At this point Dan's remarks became explosive; it was like the Fourth ofJuly at the other end of the line. Bob waited until the racket ceasedand then he went on with further details, trying to be as conscientiousand informing as possible. Finally he couldn't think of anything more tosay. But Dan thought of a lot--and some of it was personal, too. Itdidn't ruffle Bob at all, however. It rolled off him like water off aduck's back.

  "You'll be arrested," said Bob at last. "There's a law against that kindof talk through telephones, you know."

  "I'm afraid it's all up," moaned Dan.

  "'Fraid it is!" affirmed Bob. "How does Clarence take it?"

  "He's sitting here, all broke up."

  "Well, tell him to cheer up if he can," said Bob. "Gid-up isn't nearlyso dangerous as Gee-gee. At least that's my opinion."

  "Oh, isn't she?" sneered Dan. And then there was some more Fourth ofJuly at the other end of the line.

  Bob waited patiently for it to subside. "Is that all you wanted to talkwith me about?" he asked at length.

  "It is not," snapped Dan. "Those confounded blankety-blank detectives,some blankety-blank idiot has employed as gardeners about Mrs. Ralston'splace, have arrested that-blankety-blank medical head of the privatesanatorium."

  "What?" exclaimed Bob jubilantly.

  "They found him prowling around. He tells the police-station man who heis, but the police-station man won't believe him."

  "Ha! ha!" Bob was glad he could laugh once more, but it was Fourth ofJuly again for Dan.

  "It isn't any blankety-blank laughing matter," he called back. "He's oneof my witnesses and I don't want to lose him. Lost witnesses enoughalready!" Furiously.

  "Well, why don't you get him out?" said Bob with a gratified snicker.

  "I tried to, but that blankety-blank station-house man is a blankbullet-head and the blankety detectives insist he shall be held, as theysaw him looking through a window. What I want you to do is to come downto the village and help get him out."

  "Me?" said Bob loftily. "Me help get him out?"

  "Yes, you can acknowledge he was after you, an escaped patient."

  "Where is he now?" asked Bob.

  "Cell."

  "Well, you tell the station-man for me that he had better put him in apadded room. Ha! ha!" And Bob hung up the receiver.

  But almost immediately the bell rang again.

  "Hello!" said a voice. It was the telephone operator. "Is Mr. Bennettstill there? Oh! Well, there's a party on the long distance wants tospeak to you."

  "Hello; that you, Bob?" came in far-away accents.

  "It's me. Who are you?"

  "Dad."

  "Oh, hello, dad!" Bob tried to make his voice joyful.

  "I called you up to tell you I caught a fifty-seven pounder. Thoughtyou'd like to congratulate me."

  Bob did.

  "They've made me a member of the Pius Piscatorials--swell club downhere," continued dad jubilantly, and again Bob did the congratulatingact. "By the way, how's hustling?" went on dad.

  "I'm hustling all right."

  "That's good. Well, good-by, son. I'll be short of funds presently, butthat doesn't worry me. I'm having the time of my life. By-by, dear boy."

  "By-by, dad, dear."

  "Hold on, Mr. Bennett." It was the telephone operator once more."There's another party that's bound to speak to you, and take it from meI don't like the sound of his voice. I hope he isn't like that firstparty that was talking to you. What us poor girls has to put up with issomething shameful, and--All right. Go ahead."

  "This is Dickie," said a voice. "Say! you leave my girl alone. I'veheard of your goings-on."

  "Who told you?" asked Bob. "That Peeping Tom? That maniac-medico?"

  "I told you before I was going to marry her. You keep off the premisesif you know what is good for you." Dickie was so mad he was childish.

  "No, you're not going to marry her," said Bob.

  "You--you don't mean to say you're engaged to her?" came back in chokedtones.

  "No. She's only my jolly little pal. But she thinks a lot of what I tellher and I'll pick out a real man for her some day. You aren't goodenough. A chap that will punch another chap when he can't defend himselfisn't the chap for jolly little pal."

  "I didn't punch you when you couldn't defend yo
urself," said Dickieindignantly.

  "I'm the one to know. You gave it to me all right, and thereby settledyour chances with her. Do you think I'd let a girl like her marry a chaplike you? Why, you might come home and beat your wife! You're capable ofit. I refuse my consent absolutely. I shall advise her to have nothingwhatever to do with you."

  Dickie couldn't speak and Bob left him in a state of coma. This time Bobwas suffered to leave the telephone booth. He was awfully glad they hadthe maniac-medico locked up. Maybe he would get a cute little room witha cunning little window, and maybe there'd be a landscape? But therewouldn't be any flowers.

  Just at this moment the temperamental little thing hurried up to Bob ina state of great agitation. He saw that something serious had happened.