Chapter V
COMPLICATIONS
"Ten yards--nine yards--two--he made it! He's over! We win!" JubilantlyJanet threw her arms about Carol and the two danced in glee.
The occasion was the opening game of the football season. The MarchtonHigh School had come through with flying colors, having three touchdownsto their opponent's two.
As they walked homeward through the early twilight Janet demanded of theother girls:
"Wasn't Mark Sherwin wonderful?"
Valerie winked at Gale. "Why Mark Sherwin particularly when there wereten other boys on the team?" she asked.
"Haven't you heard?" Carol pounced on Valerie, eager to impart her bitof friendly gossip. "He is Janet's latest crush. He took her to themovies the other night and since then----"
"So that is the way the wind blows," Madge laughed.
"I haven't a crush on him," Janet said with dignity. "Crushes are forchildren."
"Is he going to take you to the Senior Prom?" Gale asked.
"If he asks me I shall die of joy!" Janet declared ecstatically.
"Then you wouldn't be able to go," Madge said smiling. "I think you willrally sufficiently to accept."
"I shall say I would!" Janet declared. She turned in at the gate to herfront yard as her younger sister called a greeting to the others. "Seeyou tomorrow, gals!"
"Sweet dreams!" Carol bid her.
Carol and Madge were the next to depart. Slowly the other three walkedhomeward.
"Have you seen the pilot any more?" Phyllis asked of Gale.
"Not since yesterday," was the answer.
"How is his ankle?" Valerie wanted to know.
"Getting better," Gale said. "He can hobble about a little now withoutmuch pain."
When Gale left Phyllis walked beside Valerie in deep thought.
"Do you think Gale likes Brent Stockton?" she asked at last.
Valerie smiled. "She must. She goes over to the island a lot. I think heis nice, too," she declared. She had journeyed to the island oneafternoon with Gale.
"Oh he is nice," Phyllis said hastily. "What I mean is, do youthink--Gale really likes him? An awful lot I mean?"
Valerie regarded her friend silently, puzzledly for a moment. "How doyou mean?"
"Well," Phyllis coughed embarrassedly and wished she had never mentionedthe subject. "He is young, handsome, and quite charming. Gale might----"
"You mean Gale might fall in love with him?" Valerie asked aghast.
"Well--yes," Phyllis said in confusion. "Do you suppose she might?"
Valerie laughed. "But she is still in High School!"
"That doesn't make any difference," Phyllis assured her.
"No," Valerie said after a moment, "I don't suppose it does. But Galeisn't any older than we are. Seventeen! He must be--oh, well, in histwenties. Whatever gave you such a crazy idea?"
"I don't know," Phyllis said hurriedly. "Forget I said anything."
"Have you said any more to your Aunt about Briarhurst?" Valerie wantedto know.
Phyllis shook her head and snapped her history book open and shut.
"No, I'm half afraid to."
"We will keep our fingers crossed. She may come around to your way ofthinking yet," Valerie said cheerfully. "So long, Phyl!"
Phyllis watched Valerie's form retreating along the stone flagged pathto the Wallace house, a house where Valerie was free to come and go asshe pleased, where she was assured of warmth and love and laughter.Phyllis went more slowly on her way. All that was waiting for her in thehouse at the top of the hill was a cold bedroom where she would studyher next day's lessons in silence and then eat a silent dinner sittingopposite her Aunt. After that, there was nothing for her but to retreatto her own room with her books and to bed, to wait for the next morningwhen she could again escape from the cold, old house.
* * * * *
After dinner Gale stepped out onto the porch and viewed the skyoverhead. It was studded with stars and high in the East rode a giantyellow moon. She looked out over the lawn to where deep shadows laythick beneath the trees and about the shrubs. There was a decided tingeof early winter in the air. The football game this afternoon had beenanother hint that winter was officially on the way. It had been anexciting game! A thrill every minute. She lived over again the excitinglast touchdown.
Gale had been leaning idly against the white porch pillar but suddenlyshe straightened up with a jerk. A shadow had moved stealthily from thestreet through the gateway to a position under the linden tree. Galecould not see the identity of the intruder but it was someone she didnot expect, of that she was sure. None of her friends would comesilently, like a thief. Any of the Adventure Girls or the boys with whomthey associated always descended much like pirates besieging a treasureship, with whoops and plenty of noise. Not so this person, whoever hewas.
Gale considered shouting for her father, when she remembered he had goneout to see a client. Her father conducted a successful law practice andoften made trips out at night to interview his clients.
Gale decided to stay where she was and watch. She did not want to alarmher mother, and besides the person had not done anything yet. Perhaps itwas just someone who had made a mistake in the houses. It might be arespectable visitor of one of the neighbors.
She had held her position for about five minutes, her eyes neverwavering from the spot under the linden tree where the shadow hadstopped, when she saw a white hand beckoning to her. Should she go downand see who it was? Very clearly she remembered the night when she andBruce had almost lost Brent Stockton's plans for his airplane engine.Suppose this was another thief who had learned that she knew where thepilot was! What would he do?
Almost imperiously this time the hand beckoned again. There seemed asuppressed urgency about it. She decided to throw caution to the windsand go down to the linden tree. As she stepped from the porch sheshivered with excitement. It was all so thrilling! She would keep thegirls spellbound with a recital of this tomorrow. She walked swiftlyacross the lawn. Now that she had decided what to do she wanted to hurrybefore caution changed her mind. She parted the low hanging branches andstepped into the shadow beyond.
"Did I scare you?"
Gale almost laughed aloud. It was Stubby, Brent Stockton's mechanic.
"You did!" she declared. "What do you want? How did you know where Ilived?"
"It was easy to discover that," he said brushing her question aside."You have to take me to Brent. Where is he?"
"He is----" Gale stopped herself. She remembered how firmly Brent hadsaid the mechanic was not under any circumstances to communicate withhim. "Why do you want to see him?" she asked. "He said you shouldn't."
"I've got to see him," Stubby said firmly. "Something has gone wrongwith the plane and he is the only one who can fix it. He knows hisengine backwards."
"But----" Gale hesitated, torn between Brent's wishes and this newemergency. If something really were wrong with the engine he would wantto see the mechanic, wouldn't he?
"Where is he?" Stubby persisted.
"On the island," she said slowly. "In our clubhouse."
"Can you take me over in a boat? Or how can I get there alone?" Stubbyasked quickly.
"I'll take you," Gale said. "We can use Bruce's--that's my friend--helets me use his boat."
"Fine!" Stubby rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Let's go."
"Wait until I get my coat," Gale said.
She ran back to the house. In the hall she slipped into her light sportscoat and called in to her mother in the living room.
"Going out for a while, Mother. I won't be late!"
A minute later she was walking swiftly down the street beside the thickfigure of Stubby. It took them only a few minutes to reach the shore andwith Gale at the wheel, Stubby crouched low in the stern, holding hishat for there was a stiff breeze on the water, the boat shot toward theisland.
Gale was feel
ing a little nervous. Brent Stockton had been so insistentthat they bring no one to see him, that they should reveal hiswhereabouts to no one, that now she felt afraid he might be angry thatshe was bringing Stubby. Still it was important she argued with herself.He wanted his airplane in shape for the races and every day wasprecious.
She led the way up the beach to the cabin. There the pilot met them atthe door. He greeted Stubby as an old friend and some of Gale's fearswere allayed. The two men talked long and earnestly but most of theirconversation was so complicated and technical that Gale could not graspthe full significance of it. She waited patiently until they werefinished so she might take Stubby back to the mainland in the boat.
"Then if everything isn't all right by Saturday I will come overmyself," Brent said in conclusion.
"You are leaving the island?" Gale asked. Somehow the thought alarmedher.
"Perhaps," Brent smiled. "I'm not sure yet. I don't want to leave untilthe day of the races but I might have to."
"Are you perfectly comfortable?" Gale asked eagerly. "Can I get yousomething?"
"You might bring some books for me the next time you come," he said. "Idon't know what to do with myself all day long."
"I'll bring some over tonight," Gale promised.
"There is no need for that," he said. "Wait until tomorrow."
But Gale did not want to wait. Immediately the boat nosed into thewharf, Stubby departed as silently and mysteriously as he had appearedin the Howard yard. Gale went home and into her room. Books overflowed alarge bookcase against one wall and peeped from under the window seat.She chose four volumes she thought he would like and decided to find outhis favorite authors and take more on the morrow.
She peeped into the living room before she went out again. Her motherwas asleep. Gale smiled softly and closed the door behind her.
Brent Stockton accepted the books eagerly. It seemed she had broughtjust what he would like.
"Then you aren't angry?" she asked when he was walking slowly, with theaid of an improvised cane, beside her to the boat. "You aren't angrywith me for bringing Stubby over?" she insisted, stopping and looking upat him, young and slight in the moonlight.
"Angry?" His free hand fell lightly upon her shoulder. "My dear child, Icouldn't be angry with you." Suddenly he leaned over and kissed herlightly on the forehead. "Now run along home, youngster!"
Gale tried to say something but words stuck in her throat. Silently sheclimbed into Bruce's boat. Her hand shook as she snapped the motor on.All the way across the bay she seemed wrapped in a vague, gloriousdream.
Later as she buried her hot cheeks in her cool pillows and tried to stopthinking about Brent Stockton she could feel a thrill run all throughher. She had not been like the other girls, Carol and Janet. She hadnever had a--as they called it--crush on any boy before. She admitted toherself, but to no one else, that she thought Brent Stockton was prettygrand. He was everything the other boys she knew were not.