Dorothy Dixon Solves the Conway Case
Page 3
Chapter III
IN THE CONWAY HOUSE
With the detonation of the gun in her ears, Dorothy flung herselfagainst the door and slammed it shut. Her hand fumbled for the key,found it and sent the bolt shooting into place. About the house therain-lashed wind howled and moaned like some wild thing in torment. Herheart was pumping and her breath came in choking gasps. Leaning againstthe solid oak door she pressed her ear to a panel.
The noise of the storm muffled all other sound, but she thought shecould detect the mumble of men's voices just outside the door. It wasimpossible to catch the words, of course, but the mere sound told thegirl that they were standing on the small front porch. To her right wasa sitting room. She hurried into it.
A quick flash of her torch showed two windows facing the drive. Shetried the catches. They were unlocked. She fastened them and ran out ofthe room, down the hall to the rear. The light from the library threwthe staircase into silhouette. Dorothy started for the dining room, butstopped short as the young man whom she had sent Betty in to free,bounded into the hall.
"Hello!" he cried. "Do you know where they are?"
Dorothy pointed toward the front door.
"Right out there!"
"Good! I'll fix 'em!"
He raced up the stairs and she heard him running toward the front of thehouse.
"Betty!" she called. "Come here!"
"What is it?" answered that young lady's voice from the library. "Georgetold me to stay in this room."
"_George?_" exploded Dorothy. She ran to the door and looked in. Bettywas toasting her soaking pumps from a chair before the fire. She turnedher head when Dorothy appeared and beckoned toward the blaze.
"Yes--George Conway," she explained smilingly. "He owns this house, yousee."
Dorothy's fingers pressed the wall switch and the electric lights wentout.
"Well, you _are_ a fast worker--" was her comment. "Dash over to thosewindows and see that they're fastened. Then pile some of these chairsand tables in front of the French doors--anything will do, just so it'sheavy. Hurry--and when you've finished, go into the hall and staythere."
Betty stared through the darkness. "But George says--"
"I don't care _what_ George says! The hall is the safest place rightnow."
"Well, why can't you help me?" grumbled Betty. "Suppose those awful mencome before I've--"
"They won't if you snap to it. I'm off to fasten the windows in the restof the house."
This last was thrown over her shoulder as she tore across to the diningroom. After making the rounds in there she went into the kitchen. Hereshe found a window open and the back door unlocked. It took her but amoment to remedy this, and she was passing back to the dining room whenthere came a terrific crash and reverberation from the floor above,followed by screams and curses from outside.
She went out into the hall and another report from above shook thewindows in their frames.
Betty, wild-eyed with fright, rushed into the bright arc of Dorothy'sflash light.
"What on earth is it?" she cried in very evident alarm.
"Shotgun," said Dorothy tersely. "If those yells meant anything, I guesswe can take it that somebody's been hit."
Then she noticed that Betty's left hand held an open compact, while inher right she clutched a small rouge puff. Her ash-gold hair which shewore long had become unknotted and hung halfway down her back. Herpetite figure drooped with weariness.
"Gracious, Betty! How in the wide world did you ever get rouge on theend of your nose? You're a sight!"
"Well, you turned out the light--" Miss Mayo's tone was indignant, asshe rubbed the end of her nose with a damp handkerchief. "I think I'llrun upstairs and spruce up a bit."
Dorothy looked at her and laughed.
"Come on up with me," suggested Betty. "You don't look so hot yourself."
"No, you run along and pander to your vanity, my child. When you'vefinished, why don't you go into the kitchen and make us a batch offudge--that would be just the thing!"
"Why so sarcastic?" Betty raised her delicate eyebrows.
"Well--what do you think we've run into--a college houseparty orsomething?"
"Oh, I think you're mean," Betty pouted.
"But you do choose the queerest times to spiff up!"
"Do you think those men will try to get in again!" Betty's blue eyeswidened.
"If I didn't know that your head was a fluffball--But what's the use.Run along now. It sounds as if George were coming down. Hurry up--youmight meet him on the stairs!"
"Cat!" said Betty and flew.
Dorothy went to the door and listened. If the two men were stilloutside, they gave no sign of their presence. Nothing came to her earsthrough the panels but the howl of the storm.
Then she heard footsteps running down the stairs from the second storyand switched her flashlight on George. He carried a double barreledshotgun in the hollow of his arm.
"Howdy!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "You know, I can never thankyou girls enough for all you've done. Gosh! You're a couple of heroes,all right--I mean heroines. When I saw Betty--I mean, Miss Mayo," heamended quickly with an embarrassed grin, "come sprinting into thelibrary and begin to cut me loose, why I just couldn't believe my eyes!"
"Some wonderworker, isn't she?" Dorothy contrived to look awestruck, butthere was no malice in her amused tone.
"You said it--she's a whizbang! And she told me you two came in anairplane. I've never met a girl aviator before. I guess she's a secondDorothy Dixon--you must have read what the newspapers said about thatgirl!" He shook his head admiringly. "Betty sure has nerve!"
"She has, indeed!" Dorothy kept her face straight with an effort. "Buttell me--what did you do to that crew outside?"
"Plugged 'em--clean. Got a bead on them through a front window."
"What? You--killed them? Buckshot, at that distance?"
George chuckled. "Not buckshot--rock salt. Use it for crows, you know.It stings like the dickens."
"I'll bet it does!" Dorothy's laugh was full-throated and hearty.
"What's become of them?" she asked when she could speak.
"They beat it around the house to the garage. Do you know what happenedto their car?"
"Yes. It ran away--down the lots to the bottom of the valley. Andbetween you and me and the hatrack, I don't think it will ever run anymore."
"Gee whiz!" chuckled George. "Who'd ever think a little thing like Bettywould have the pluck to pull a stunt like that!"
"Who would?" said Dorothy and joined in the laugh.
"Well, as long as their car is out of the running, they'll probably tryto steal my flivver." George tapped his gun significantly, "But I'll puta crimp in that. They've got to pass the dining room windows to get outof here."
"You needn't bother--the Ford won't move."
"Sure it will." George stopped short in the doorway and turned towardher. "That car of mine runs like a watch."
"But not without gas," explained Dorothy. "I drained the tank into acouple of tins."
"You did?"
"Sure thing. Parked the tins in your orchard. They'll never find 'em."
"Say!" exclaimed George. "You must be almost as good as Betty that is, Imean--"
"Who's taking my name in vain?" Miss Mayo was tripping blithelydownstairs. "You two seem to be finding a lot to talk about."
George stared at her. "Say, you certainly look swell when you're dolledup."
"Well, it's the best I can do now," deprecated Betty. "I borrowed a pairof your slippers though--woolly ones. That is, I s'pose they're yours?"
"Glad to have you wear 'em." George's eyes were still glued to Betty'spretty face when Dorothy broke in.
"Look here, we'll have to get down to business. George--listen to me.Betty won't melt, you know--"
"Oh, I think you're terrible--" interrupted Betty.
Her friend paid no attention, but kept on talking to George. "Do youreally thin
k they've gone?"
He nodded. "I'm pretty sure they have--that is, for the present. Youcan't do a whole lot when your hide is full of salt. I'll bet they'rekiting down the road right now. Maybe they'll stop in at the Robinson'sor somewhere and get a lift to Stamford or Ridgefield or wherever theycame from. They may have some pals about here, of course. I sort ofgathered that they weren't working on their own--that there was somebodyin back of them."
"Well, at least we can count on a breather. Let's go in the library andturn on the light. I'm tired of standing about in this hall and I wantto dry out by the fire."
In the library, George pushed a couple of easy chairs before thecomforting blaze. Dorothy cast aside her slicker and helmet and droppedinto one of them. She kicked off her sodden shoes and stretching herlegs toward the warmth, drew forth a comb and proceeded to make herselfneat. George perched on the arm of Betty's chair, and the two stared atthe flames without speaking.
At last Dorothy put her comb away, turned to George and broke thesilence.
"It's none of my particular business, of course, but would you mindtelling me the reason for all this rough house? Why did those men attackyou and tie you up--what were they doing around here?"
George shook his head slowly. "Hanged if I know," he said.
"You don't know? But they seemed to be asking you questions--from what Icould see through the window, it looked that way."
"That's right. But--but--well, you two girls are real sportsmen. You'vepulled me out of an awful mess. Heaven knows I appreciate what you'vedone, but I just can't have you running any further risk on my account,Miss--"
"Dixon," supplied Betty. "I forgot you hadn't been introduced."
George leaned forward. "Do you come from New Canaan?" he shot out.
"Of course, we live there," said Betty. "And I want you to know thatDorothy is my best friend. We're seniors at the New Canaan High--if thatinterests you."
"So _you're_ Dorothy Dixon, the flyer!" he exploded. "Suffering monkeys!I didn't know I was entertaining a celebrity. Why, you're the girl I wastalking about--who--"
"Here, here--don't make me blush," laughed Dorothy.
"But don't you see? Your being Dorothy Dixon makes all the difference inthe world."
Dorothy's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown.
"I don't get you," she said. "I really don't know what you're talkingabout."
"Why, if what the newspapers say is true, you simply eat up thisgangster stuff--a whiz at solving all kinds of mysteries."
"Nice lady-like reputation, what?" she mocked.
"Well, that's all right with me. Because now--I have no hesitancy intelling you all I know about this queer business. You'll probably knowjust what to do--and you'll be a wonderful help."
"How about me?" Betty was a direct little person and seemed at no painsto disguise her feelings. "I don't think you're a bit polite, George!"
"Oh, I feel differently about you--" stammered that young man, thenstopped short and looked painfully embarrassed.
Dorothy thought it time she took matters into her own hands.
"Don't be silly, Betty, George knows how clever you are!" She flashed amischievous glance at her friend, then went on in a serious tone. "Andof course we're keen to hear all about it, George, and we'll do anythingwe can to help you. But your story will keep a while longer. I hope youdon't mind my mentioning such a prosaic thing--but do you happen to haveanything to eat in the house?"
"Oh, my gosh! Of course I have--" he threw a glance at the clock andjumped to his feet. "It's nearly eight o'clock. You girls must bestarved! Sit right here and I'll bring supper in a jiffy. I was justabout to eat mine when those two thugs dropped in and put an end to itfor the time being."
"I'll help you," offered Betty, hopping out of her chair.
"That's a good plan," decreed Dorothy. "While you're starting things inthe kitchen, I'd like to use the phone, if I may."
"There it is, on that table in the corner," said George. "Hop to it.I'll drive you home later in the flivver."
"Thanks, but I've got to have gas for my plane. We'll talk it over atsupper, shall we?"
She took up the telephone and the others hurried from the room.
Presently she joined them in the kitchen.
"I called up your mother, Betty, and told her you were spending thenight with me," she announced. "Dad is away, so I got hold of BillBolton and he'll be over here in about twenty minutes."
"Oh, fine--" began Betty and stopped short as an electric bell on thewall buzzed sharply.
For a moment they stared at it in startled silence. Then George spoke."Somebody's ringing the door bell," he said slowly.