The Secret Toll

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by Paul Thorne and Mabel Thorne


  CHAPTER VIII--THE GIRL ON THE HORSE

  Taking Green to breakfast and listening to his story had occupied moretime than Forrester had allotted for his interview with the detective.So, after leaving the city behind and entering the smooth and lessfrequented roads of the North Shore, he drove his roadster at a pacethat would quickly have brought him into the toils of any localguardians of the law who might have spied his racing motor. Fortunately,they were reserving their watchfulness for a later hour of the day andForrester kept up his swift pace until familiar landmarks told him thathe was approaching Jasper lane.

  He had just placed his hand on the gear lever when a horse and riderunexpectedly appeared coming out of a narrow side-road a short distanceahead. Forrester threw out his clutch and shifted his hand to theemergency brake. So great had been his speed, however, that the car slidfor some distance along the oily roadway and passed directly under thehorse's nose. Both horse and rider were startled. Snorting wildly, thehorse reared on his hind legs with such suddenness that his rider wasthrown to the ground. Forrester jumped from his car and ran back to seeif he could be of any assistance. He discovered then that the rider wasa girl, who had sprung quickly to her feet before he reached her.

  "I am sorry," exclaimed Forrester, apologetically, removing his cap."Are you hurt?"

  "Oh, no," she returned, with a smile, "it was nothing at all."

  "It was very careless of me," continued Forrester, "not seeing yousooner."

  "Not at all!" returned the girl. "It was entirely my fault. I shouldhave remembered that I was approaching the main motor highway and beenmore cautious." Her eyes twinkled, as she added, "Just like a woman,wasn't it?"

  "Well," smiled Forrester, hesitatingly, "I wouldn't exactly say that."

  "Oh, yes, you would," she asserted. "I know how you men talk about usbehind our backs. You see, I have a brother."

  "I would not take what a brother said as a guide to other men'sopinions," suggested Forrester. "Brothers do not always fully appreciatetheir sister's charms."

  "Am I to consider that as a compliment, or just a piece of information?"challenged the girl.

  "I leave that to your own good judgment," returned Forrester.

  The girl flushed slightly. "Would you mind catching my horse?" sherequested.

  Forrester glanced around and saw that the horse was ambling along byhimself and already some distance away. Forrester started after thehorse at a run, and thought with deep chagrin that the girl standingback there in the road was probably laughing at him. To run before a newacquaintance is never a graceful performance. He had seen a spirit ofmischief lurking in the girl's eyes and he half suspected that her horsecould have been recalled without this display of energy on his part.Probably it was his punishment for attempting to compliment her on suchshort acquaintance. Forrester caught the horse without difficulty, whichconvinced him that his supposition regarding the girl's purpose wascorrect. He took advantage of the return trip with the horse to studyher carefully and deliberately; partly for his own information andpartly to punish her for sending him after the horse.

  He had already noted that her hair was slightly reddish in hue and veryabundant, and that her eyes were brown. He now observed that she wastall, but not too tall, and slender, but not too slender. She wasattired in a brown linen riding suit, with tan boots, and a white strawsailor hat. Whether accidentally or by design, the hat was tilted atjust the right angle. That she was athletic and a good horsewoman wasevidenced by her quick recovery from what would have been a very badfall for the average woman.

  She greeted him with a smile as he neared her.

  "My, how you can run!" she exclaimed.

  That he had been put on exhibition Forrester was now sure, and hisresentment must have shown in his face, for she added, soothingly, "Itis awfully good of you to take so much trouble for a stranger."

  Forrester was distinctly attracted to the girl. She was so differentfrom girls that he knew. He could not recollect a girl of hisacquaintance who possessed such unquestionable beauty and engagingpersonality, combined with a self-reliance that detracted not a jot fromher femininity. Small wonder that he felt a poignant regret that theywere about to part and probably never meet again. Almost unconsciouslyhis thoughts took the form of words.

  "Must we remain strangers?" he asked.

  "Perhaps," she answered, placing her foot in the stirrup and vaultinglightly into the saddle. She smiled down at him and then, with a wave ofher hand, started at a gallop up the road.

  Forrester stood a moment watching her retreating figure.

  "Perhaps!" he repeated to himself. "How am I to take that? 'Perhaps'might mean anything--yes, or no, or maybe. Who the deuce can she be?I'll have to ask Josephine if she knows her."

  Going back to his roadster Forrester resumed his journey. It was hisintention to pay a call on the mysterious negress, so just before hereached the oak he drove his car well up on the side of the road andalighted. With Green's story in mind he glanced around to see if anyevidences of the detective's adventure remained. Almost in front of theoak he discovered the battered remains of the spotlight, and in thegulley across the road he saw a corner of the small storage battery.This removed any doubt Forrester might have had that Green had actuallybeen at the oak tree. In fact, it seemed highly probable that Green hadreally met with the mishaps he described. If the detective had not beendreaming or drinking then there were certainly many strange things goingon here and perhaps some real clues to be unearthed.

  Forrester stood in front of the oak for some minutes, deliberating. Thenhe approached it and plunged his arm into the opening as he had done theday before. In thinking the matter over it had occurred to him that theoak might be hollow and someone concealed within it. After feelingcarefully around, however, and digging his fingers once more into therotten wood, Forrester was convinced that this hollow in which thepackages of money were placed, and which was little larger than a man'shead, was the only opening in the tree. The rest of the great trunkappeared to be absolutely solid.

  Just as Forrester withdrew his arm from the opening he heard a soundbehind him that resembled several persons walking. He stood erect andturned swiftly; then paused, staring sheepishly, like a bad boy caughtin the pantry. Before him was the girl on the horse. Her left hand,which grasped the reins, was resting on the front of the saddle, whileher right hand was buried in the pocket of her coat. Surprised anddisconcerted as he was, Forrester nevertheless noted the easynonchalance of her attitude. This time, however, she did not smile butsat regarding him with the suggestion of a frown on her face.

  "Putting it in or taking it out?" she inquired, lightly.

  "I--I--don't know what you mean," stammered Forrester.

  She slightly raised her eyebrows. "I presume, if I were to ask you thequestion, you would tell me you did not know that oak has a badreputation."

  By this time Forrester had recovered his poise, and his newly acquireddetective instinct asserted itself. The girl was evidently regarding himwith something approaching suspicion, and it aroused in him an answeringfeeling of distrust. In these surroundings his mind was working rapidly.He recalled the young lady of Joshua's story, and the woman of the nightin Green's recital.

  "Has it?" asked Forrester, innocently, after a pause.

  The girl regarded him keenly for a moment before she spoke.

  "For a man who knows so little about it," she said, sarcastically, "youseem to have been in a great hurry to get here."

  "I don't see why you should suppose this to be my original destination,"returned Forrester. "Possibly the large size of this tree attracted myattention in passing."

  "Perhaps," she said, and both smiled as they recalled the last time thatword was spoken. Then she added, "But you have not _passed_ yet. Yourcar is still some distance back on the road. Think of a better one."

  "Tell me," exclaimed Forrester, "do you live near here?"

  Her face hardened as she replied, "That is an unnecessary question atthis time.
I might even say that it savors of an evasion."

  "I beg your pardon," said Forrester, stiffly.

  Again the girl sat silently regarding him and Forrester met her eyeswith a steady look. He surmised that she was appraising him and her nextquestion confirmed his thought.

  "Are you a victim?" she inquired.

  "My dear young lady," returned Forrester, "about all we do is to askeach other questions. Sometimes _I_ don't get an answer."

  "I accept the reproof and apologize," she said, and smiled. "I live justa little way up this road."

  "And I am--unfortunately--a victim," admitted Forrester.

  "Now we're quits," laughed the girl. "Let's begin again."

  "If this tree has a bad reputation," said Forrester, "I am curious toknow why a girl, alone, takes a doubtful chance by talking to a strangeman in its shadow."

  The girl partly withdrew her right hand from her coat pocket.

  "I'm not quite alone," she answered, and Forrester saw that she held asmall automatic in her hand. "This has been covering you ever since Irode up."

  "Certainly I shall now feel it incumbent upon me to answer allquestions," smiled Forrester.

  "All right," she retorted, quickly, "what is your name?"

  "Forrester."

  "_Robert_ Forrester?"

  "Yes, how did you guess?"

  A wicked little smile stole over the girl's face. "You are the lastperson I should expect to see here," she declared.

  "Why?" queried Forrester.

  "I understood you were scared to death," she returned.

  "That damned reporter again!" burst out Forrester, clenching his hands."Wait until I get within reach of him!"

  "My, how savage you are!" exclaimed the girl, with mock severity. ButForrester saw that her eyes twinkled.

  "You will pardon my strong language," he said, "but this is not thefirst time that article has made me look foolish."

  "Oh, then you're not _really_ frightened?" she inquired, her eyes stillflashing with humor.

  Forrester opened his mouth as if to speak, but words failed him, and thegirl threw back her head and laughed.

  "Mr. Forrester," she said, at length, leaning down toward him, "youasked me a little while ago if we must remain strangers. I can nowanswer your question definitely. If you will come over to the house fora minute I will give you a letter of introduction, which I have,addressed to your mother. I had intended to deliver it in person, butafter arriving here I found you were still in town."

  Forrester was thunderstruck, and therefore speechless for a moment. Thiswas too good to be true.

  "My name is Sturtevant," the girl continued. Then added, with one of hermischievous smiles, "_Miss_ Sturtevant."

  "I shall be very glad, indeed, to deliver your letter, Miss Sturtevant,"said Forrester. "Or if you prefer to wait until Saturday, you candeliver it in person as you first intended to do. We move out to'Woodmere' on Saturday."

  Forrester had no sooner said this than he could have kicked himself. Hehad wanted to have a look at the place she occupied and he might now bethrowing away the opportunity. When he recalled the negro's words, ithad seemed as if the girl lived alone. If she did, it would be both oddand suspicious under the circumstances. Forrester was anxious toascertain this fact definitely, and he was pleased when the girldisregarded his suggestion.

  "If you don't mind," she said, "I should like to have you come over tothe house now and get the letter."

  "I shall be delighted," returned Forrester, this time withoutqualification. "If it is only a short distance I will walk."

  "It is a very short distance," informed the girl. "It would be hardlyworth while starting up your car." Then she added, "Especially if youplan to return here."

  Forrester glanced up at her quickly, but she was already turning herhorse back to the road and he did not meet her eye. Whether or not shehad some object in what she said, or was simply poking fun at him, hecould not tell.

  Miss Sturtevant kept her horse down to an easy walk and Forrester foundno difficulty in maintaining his place at her side. She made no furtherreference to the tree and its evil repute, so Forrester did not againbring up the subject, leading their light chatter instead into commentsupon the surrounding country.

  The Bradbury house, which Forrester now knew had been taken by MissSturtevant, stood only a short distance back from the road, and as theyturned into the gate Forrester could see an elderly woman on the porch.A few minutes later she was introduced to him as Mrs. Morris, and duringthe short talk he had with her, while Miss Sturtevant was getting herletter, he gathered that she was a paid companion to the girl. MissSturtevant quickly returned with the letter for his mother, and after afew brief words, which included an invitation to Forrester to comeagain, they parted.

  At the gate Forrester met the big negro, Joshua.

  "Hello, Joshua," he greeted the negro.

  "Howdy-do, suh."

  "Any new stories about that haunted tree, Joshua?"

  "No, _suh_! Mah Missey done say Ah talk too much." And the negro hurriedon.

  Forrester wondered as he returned along the road toward the tree.

 

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