Read Nothing But the Truth Page 9


  CHAPTER IX--ANOTHER SURPRISE

  Three men were in his room and Bob found himself sitting up in bed andblinking at them. The lights they had turned on seemed rather bright.

  "Hello!" said Bob.

  "Hello yourself!" said the commodore in a low but nasty manner. "And notso loud!"

  "Some sleeper, you are!" spoke Dickie in a savage whisper.

  "Believe he heard, all right!" came Clarence's hushed, unamiable tones."Perverse beast, and pretended not to!"

  Bob hugged his knees with his arms. "You've torn your pants," heobserved to the commodore.

  "Never you mind _that_" as guardedly, though no more pleasantly thanbefore.

  "Oh, all right," said Bob meekly. He didn't ask any questions, nor didhe exhibit any curiosity. There couldn't anything happen now that wouldmake matters much worse. But in that, he was "reckoning without hishost."

  "Got in the window, of course," he observed in a low unconcerned tone,as if their coming and being there after midnight was the most naturaloccurrence in the world. "Not so hard to get in, with that balcony outthere. All you had to do was to 'shin up' and then there's that trellisto help. Good strong trellis, too. Regular Jacob's ladder! Easiest thingfor burglars! Thought you _were_ burglars," he added contemplatively.

  "You mean you saw us?" snapped the commodore, almost forgetting hiscaution. His expression matched his tone. He was no longer the jovialsailorman; he wore now a regular Dick Deadeye look. To Bob'scomprehensive glance he appeared like a fragment in a revival of_Pinafore_.

  "Oh, I didn't know it was you," said Bob.

  "Where were you?"

  "Summer-house."

  "Think of that," murmured the commodore, disgustedly. "Bird at hand, andwe didn't know it. Fool of a bird had to hop away and make us all thistrouble!"

  "I told you I thought you were burglars," observed Bob patiently. Hedidn't care how they abused him or what names they called him.

  That disagreeable look on Dan's face was replaced by a startled one."Good gracious, man"--only that wasn't the expression he used--"I hopeyou haven't told any one you saw burglars prowling around? Nice for usif you did!" As he spoke he gazed anxiously toward the window, beforewhich they had taken the precaution to draw a heavy drape afterentering.

  "No, I didn't tell a soul."

  "But--I don't understand why you didn't when you thought--?"

  "I ought to have spoken, I suppose," said Bob with a melancholy smile."But it didn't seem very important and--I guess I forgot. These littlejewel robberies are getting to be such commonplace occurrences!"

  The commodore stared at him. Then he touched his forehead. "A lot oftrouble you've made for us," he said, speaking in that low tense voice,while Clarence and Dickie looked on in mad and reproachful fashion."Bribed a servant to tell you to slip out! Told him to whisper that wewere waiting in the garden and simply had to see you at once! Didn't youhear him rap on your door?"

  "No," answered Bob sorrowfully.

  "Heavens, man! believe you'd sleep through an earthquake and cyclonecombined! Servant came back and told us he'd tapped on your door asloudly as he dared. Was afraid he'd arouse the whole house if he knockedlouder. When you leave a 'call' at the hotels, how do they manage? Breakdown the door with an ax?"

  Bob overlooked the sarcasm. The commodore might have thumped him with anax, at the moment, and he wouldn't have protested very hard. He murmureda contrite apology.

  "Get my telegram?" said the commodore.

  "Yes. What _could_ you have been thinking about when you sent it? Howcould I leave when I had to stay? Thought you must have been sailingpretty close in the wind at the yacht club, when you dashed it off!Could just feel your main-sail fluttering."

  The commodore swore softly but effectively. Clarence and Dickie murmuredsomething, too. Bob hugged his knees closer. Being so unhappy himself,he couldn't but feel a dull sympathy when he saw any one else put out.

  "See here," said the commodore, "what's the situation? We never dreamed,of course, that you would come here. Have you been talking with Mrs. Danand Mrs. Clarence? Dickie's been conjuring all kinds of awful things youmight have told them, if they cornered you and you got thattruth-telling stunt going. Dickie's got an imagination. Too confoundedmuch imagination!" Here the commodore wiped his brow. That was quite abad tear in his pants but he appeared oblivious to it. "Maybe you wouldhave thought it a capital way to turn the tables on us poor chaps?" hewent on, stabbing Bob with a baleful look. "Perhaps you came here onpurpose?"

  "No," said Bob, "I couldn't have done that, of course, owing to theconditions." And he related what had happened to bring him there.

  Dan groaned. "Why, it was we, ourselves, who steered him right upagainst her at the Waldorf. It was we who got him asked down here. Isuppose you've been chuckling ever since you came?" Turning on Bob, witha correct imitation of Mr. Deadeye, at his grouchiest moment.

  "No," said Bob, speaking to immeasurable distance, "I haven't done anychuckling since I came here. Nary a chuckle!"

  "Let's get down to brass tacks," interrupted Dickie, "and learn if ourworst apprehensions are realized. There's a girl down here I think a lotof and I'd like to know if, by any chance, any conversation you may havehad with her turned on me. I allude to Miss Dolly--"

  "Hold on," said the commodore. "That's not very important. Suppose sheshould have found out a few things about you? You aren't married. It'sdifferent in the case of married men, like Clarence and me here. We'lldismiss Miss Dolly, if you please, for the present--"

  "I really haven't said anything to Miss Dolly about you," said Bob toDickie. "Your name hasn't been mentioned between us." He was glad hecould reassure one of them, at least. He wouldn't have had Dickie sosorrowful as himself for the world.

  That young man looked immensely relieved. It may be he experienced newhope of leading the temperamental young thing to the altar, andincidentally consummating a consolidation of competing chimneys,conveniently contiguous. "Thanks, old chap," he said, and shook Bob'shand heartily.

  "But what about us?" whispered the commodore sibilantly. "Have youtalked with Mrs. Clarence or Mrs. Dan to any great extent?"

  "I haven't had hardly a word with Mrs. Clarence," answered Bob,whereupon Clarence began to "throw out his chest," the way Dickie haddone.

  The commodore shifted uneasily, seeming to find difficulty in continuingthe conversation. He moved back and forth once or twice, but realizinghe was making a slight noise, stood still again, and looked down at Bob.

  "Talk much with Mrs. Dan?" he at length asked nervously.

  "I did have a little conversation with Mrs. Dan," Bob was forced toreply. "Or, I should say, to be strictly truthful, rather a longconversation. You see, I took her in to dinner."

  The commodore showed signs of weakness. He seemed to have veryindecisive legs all of a sudden. "Talk about me?" he managed toejaculate.

  "Some. I'm not certain just how much."

  "What--what was said?"

  "I can't remember all. It's very confused. I've had a lot ofconversations, you see, and most of them awfully unpleasant. I remember,though, that Mrs. Dan impressed me as a very broad-minded lady. Said shehad lived in Paris, and was not a bit jealous."

  "What!" Dan was breathing hard.

  "Said she always wanted you to have the best kind of a time."

  "Did she say that?" asked the commodore. "And you believed it? Go on."In a choked voice. "Did you tell her about that cabaret evening?"

  "I believe it was mentioned, incidentally."

  "Say _I_ was there?" put in Clarence quickly. He was losing that"chestiness."

  "I rather think I did. I--what is that?" Bob looked toward the window.There was a sound below at the foot of the balcony. Some one turned outthe light in the room and Bob strode to the window and looked out. "It'sa dog," he said. "He's snuffing around at the foot."

  "He's doing more than snuffing," observed the commodore apprehensively,as at that moment a bark smote the air. They stood m
otionless andsilent. The dog stopped barking, but went on snuffing. Maybe it would goaway after a moment, and they waited. Dickie and the commodore hadthrashed out that question of dogs. With so many guests around, they hadfigured that, of course, they would be dog-safe. Didn't they look likeguests? How could a dog tell the difference between them and a guest? Itis true, they hadn't been expecting so much trouble as they had been putto, to find Bob. They had, in that little balcony-climbing feat, ratherexceeded what they had expected to be called on to do. In theirimpatience, they had acted somewhat impetuously, but it had looked justas easy, after the servant had pointed out the room and told them Bobwas in, as certain sounds from his bed indubitably indicated.

  They couldn't very well enter the house as self-invited guests, thoughthey, of course, would have been made welcome. They couldn't very wellsay they had all changed their minds about those original invitationswhich had naturally included husbands as well as wives. After all threehad declined to come on account of business, it would certainly looklike collusion, if all three found they hadn't had urgent business, atall, in town. If anything untoward or disastrous had happened in theconversational line, with Bob as the Demon God, Truth, their suddenentrance upon the stage of festivities, would seem to partake of innerperturbation; it might even appear to be a united and concentrated caseof triple guilty conscience. This, obviously, must be avoided at anycost. How they had heard Bob was here at the Ralston house, matters not.Naturally they had kept tab on his movements, where he went and what hedid being of some moment to them.

  The dog barked again. Thereupon, a window opened and they knew that someone had been aroused.

  "He's looking out. It's the monocle-chap," whispered Bob.

  "Who's he?"

  "One of Mrs. Ralston's importations. Belonged to that Anglo-Englishcolony when she did that little emigration act in dear old London."

  "Hang it, we've got to get out," whispered the commodore nervously. Nomatter what had been said; no matter what the Demon God of Truth haddone, it was incumbent on them not to remain longer, with that doglooking up toward Bob's window and making that spasmodic racket. Someone might get up and go out and see footprints, or a disturbed trellis.The commodore forgot a certain desperate business proposition, aproposof that confounded wager, he had come to put to Bob. That infernal doggot on his nerves and put that other matter, which would settle thistruth-telling stunt at once, right out of his mind.

  It was all very well, however, to say they "had to get out," but it wasanother matter to tell how they were going to do it. They couldn'tdescend the way they had come, and meet doggie. Bob arose to theoccasion.

  "I can let you into the hall and show you downstairs, to that side dooron the other side of the house. You can take one of my golf sticks, justas a safeguard, but I think you'll be able to circumvent the jollylittle barker without being obliged to use it."

  "What kind of a dog is it?" whispered the commodore who had a pronouncedaversion to canines.

  "Looked like a smallish dog. Might be a bull."

  "Better give us each a club," suggested Clarence in a weak voice.

  Which Bob did. The dog renewed the vocal performance, and-- "Hurry,"whispered the commodore. "Find means to communicate with you to-morrow,Mr. Bennett." Bob didn't resent the formality of this designation, whichimplied to what depths he had fallen in good old Dan's estimation. "Canwe get down-stairs without any one hearing us?"

  Bob thought they could. Anyhow, they would have to try, so he opened thedoor softly and led the way. Fortunately, the house was solidly builtand not creaky. They attained down-stairs safely, and at last reachedthe side door without causing any disturbance. Bob unfastened the door,the key turned noiselessly and they looked out. There was no sign of anyliving thing on lawn or garden on this side of the house.

  "Out you go quickly," murmured Bob, glancing apprehensively over hisshoulder. His position was not a particularly agreeable one. Suppose oneof the servants, on an investigating tour as to the cause of doggie'sperturbation, should chance upon him (Bob) showing three men out of thehouse in that secret manner at this time of night?

  But before disappearing into the night, the commodore took time towhisper: "Was Gee-gee's name mentioned?"

  "I fear so," said Bob sadly.

  The commodore wasted another second or two to tell Bob fiercely what hethought of him and how they would "fix" him on the morrow, after whichhe sprang out and darted away like a rabbit.

  Bob wanted to call out that they were welcome to "fix" him, but he wasafraid that others beside Dan might hear him, so he closed and lockedthe door carefully and stood there alone in the great hall, in hisdressing-gown. Then he sat down in a dark corner and listened. Betterwait until all was quiet, he told himself, before retracing his steps tohis room. The dog seemed to have stopped barking altogether now and soonany persons it might have awakened would be asleep again. His trio ofvisitors must be well on their way to the village by this time, hethought. He was sorry the commodore seemed to feel so bad. AndClarence?--poor Clarence! That last look of his haunted Bob. Anyhow, hewas pleased Dickie had, so far, escaped his (Bob's) devastating touch.

  How long he sat there he did not know. Probably only a few moments. Abig clock ticked near by, which was the only sound now to be heard.Suddenly it occurred to him that he had better return to his room, andwearily he arose. Up-stairs it seemed darker than it had been when hehad left his room. He had the dim lights in the great hall below toguide him then. Now it was a little more difficult. However, aftertraversing without mishap a few gloomy corridors--he realized what a bighouse it really was--he reached, at last, his room near the end of oneof the upper halls and entered.

  He had a vague idea he had left his door partly ajar, but he wasn'tsure; probably he hadn't, for it was now closed; or maybe a draft of airhad closed it. Groping his way in the dark for his bed, he ran against achair. This ruffled his temper somewhat as the sharp edge had come incontact with that sensitive part of the anatomy, known as the shin-bone.He felt for his bed, but it wasn't there where it ought to be. He musthave got turned around coming in. His fingers ran over a dresser. Someof the articles on it seemed strange to him. He thought he heard arustle and stood still, with senses alert, experiencing a regularburglar-feeling at the moment. He hadn't become so ossified to emotionas he had supposed. But everything was now as silent as the grave. Againhis hand swept out, to learn where he was, and again his fingers sweptover the dresser. What were all those confounded things? He didn't knowhe had left so much loose junk lying around. And where was thatconfounded switch-button?

  At that moment some one else found it, for the room became suddenlyflooded with light. Bob started back, and as he did so, something fellfrom the dresser to the floor. He stared toward the bed in amazement andhorror. Some one, with the clothes drawn up about her, was sitting up.Bob wasn't the only one who had a surprise that night. Thetemperamental, little dark thing was treated to one, too. Above thewhite counterpane, she stared at Bob.