Dorothy Dixon and the Double Cousin

by George Bird Grinnell

  Chapter XIV

  PROFESSOR

  Dorothy, upon finishing the article on Winnite, laid the original andfirst carbon copy of the typewritten sheets on Mrs. Lawson's desk. Thealmost transparent sheets of the second carbon copy she folded carefullyas though she meant to place them in an envelope. But instead of this,her right foot slipped out of its walking pump, the sheer silk stockingfollowed it. Then she put on the stocking again, but now the soft papersrested between the stocking and the sole of her foot. The pump fittedmore snugly than before, although not uncomfortably so. Content with hermorning's work, she had closed the typewriter and was studying theeffect of a new shade of powder in her compact mirror when Mrs. Lawsoncame into the room.

  "I take it you've finished the work?"

  "The original and copy are beside the longhand manuscript on your desk,"said Dorothy, toning down her efforts with the puff. "I've read it overand I don't think you'll find any mistakes."

  Mrs. Lawson ran her eyes over the typewritten sheets. "They are withouta fault," she declared, placing them in a drawer. "If you take dictationas accurately as you type, Janet, you'll be the perfect secretary."

  "Thank you," said Dorothy demurely and slipped the compact into thepocket of her frock. "It is very nice of you to say that."

  "Then we'll go in to luncheon, shall we? That is, if you're ready?"

  Dorothy stood up. "Quite ready, Mrs. Lawson, and good and hungry, too."

  "Splendid!" enthused her hostess, as they walked down the corridortoward the entrance hall. "Doctor Winn declares this Connecticut Ridgecountry is the most healthful section of the United States. And even ifsome people have other ideas on the subject, I can testify that it is agreat appetite builder."

  Dorothy smiled, but said nothing. She was wondering how healthful shewas going to find this particular spot in the Ridge country after whatshe had to do tonight.

  "Doctor Winn always lunches in his study," continued Mrs. Lawson. "Thatis the room just beyond my office. My husband has been called to NewYork on business. He won't be back until after dinner tonight, so wewill be alone at luncheon."

  For some reason of her own, Laura Lawson had become affability itself.And for this Dorothy gave thanks. That she disliked this truly beautifulcreature was only natural. But it is much more pleasant to lunch with aperson who puts herself out to be charming and affable, no matter whatyour private opinion of the other's character may be.

  The dining room proved to be a low-ceiled apartment paneled in whitepine; heavy beams of the satin-finished wood overhead, and on the wallsseveral colorful landscapes in oils, evidently the works of artists whoknew and loved this Ridge country. A cheerful log fire burned brightlyon the open hearth beneath a high mantelpiece. Outside, the heavy snowcontinued to drive past frosted window-panes, but within all was warmthand coziness.

  Dorothy enjoyed the meal thoroughly. Like most girls, she revelled inluxury when it came her way. Not only was her hostess an interesting andentertaining conversationalist, the delicious food served by Tunbridgeand a second man in plum-colored knee breeches, added materially to herpleasure. She was really sorry when the butler lighted his mistress'cigarette and Mrs. Lawson rose from the table.

  "I have no work for you this afternoon, Janet," said the lady, as theystrolled into the spacious hall with its suits of polished armor andtrophies of war and the chase decorating the walls. "I have some work tocomplete with Doctor Winn, so I won't be free to entertain you. Thereare periodicals and novels in the library. If it weren't such a beastlyday, I would suggest a walk."

  "Oh, I don't mind a snowstorm!" Dorothy smiled at her. "I'd love to beout in it for a while."

  "But I'm afraid you might get lost. The blizzard is driving out of thenortheast--and that means something in this country. You'll find it moredisagreeable than you think."

  "I'm not afraid to walk in a blizzard," Dorothy argued, "we used to doit a lot at school--I love it."

  "Oh, very well, then," went on Mrs. Lawson. "I used to enjoy that sortof thing myself. Somebody had better go with you, though. Let me see--"She hesitated. "Oh, yes--Gretchen will be just the person. She's a nicelittle thing--a native of Ridgefield, you know. Gretchen can show youround the place, and there'll be no chance of your getting lost."

  Dorothy was amused by this pretended concern for her safety. She knewthat Mrs. Lawson feared she might take it into her head to walk to therailroad station and board the first train back to town. Gretchen asguide and chaperone would be able to forestall anything like that. Mrs.Lawson was not yet sure of the new secretary!

  Dorothy's features betrayed no sign of her thoughts. "That will be everso much pleasanter than going alone," she agreed. "Gretchen seems to bea sweet girl. I saw her this morning when she brought my breakfast andunpacked my clothes. I'm sorry, though, that you can't come too."Deception, she found, was becoming a habit when treating with herhostess.

  "Thank you, my dear--I'm sorry, too." Mrs. Lawson went toward thetasselled bell rope that hung beside the fireplace. "Run upstairs nowand get into warm things. I'll ring for Gretchen and have her meet youdown here in quarter of an hour."

  Fifteen minutes afterward, warmly dressed in whipcord jodhpurs, a heavysweater and knee-length leather coat of dark green, Dorothy came out ofher room onto the gallery, pulling a white wool skating cap well downover her ears. With a white wool scarf twisted about her throat, thelong ends thrown back over her shoulders, she looked ready for anywinter sport as she ran lightly down the stairs, the rubber soles of herhigh arctics making no sound on the broad oaken steps.

  Gretchen, well bundled up in sweater and heavy tweed skirt was waitingfor her.

  "You certainly do look like a picture on a Christmas magazine cover,Miss Jordan," the girl exclaimed, while they walked to the front door."I'm glad you've got warm gauntlets. It's mighty cold out--you'll needthem."

  Dorothy laughed gaily and swung open the door. "Nothing could be morebecoming than your own costume, Gretchen. That light blue skating set isjust the color of your eyes."

  "That," chuckled Gretchen, "is the real reason I bought it."

  They were outside now and standing under the wide porte-cochere of glassand wrought iron.

  "It's glorious out here, and not too cold, either." Dorothy sniffed thesharp air enthusiastically. "I hate staying indoors on a wild day likethis. Look at those big flakes spinning down and sideslipping into thedrifts. It makes one glad to be alive."

  "You said it, Miss Jordan. I love it myself--though I never thought ofsnowflakes being like airplanes before. Which way do you want to go?"

  "You're the leader, Gretchen. Anywhere you say suits me."

  "Then let's tramp over to the pond, Miss Jordan. The ice ought to beholding. We'll stop at the garage and fetch a broom along. There's toomuch snow for skating, but we might make a slide."

  "That will be fun," agreed Dorothy, as they came down the steps andswung along the white expanse of driveway. "I haven't done anything likethat since I was a kid. How far's the pond from here?"

  "About half a mile. Doctor Winn owns several hundred acres. It's downyonder in a hollow. This time of year when the trees are bare, you cansee it plainly from the house. Today there's too much snow."

  "There certainly is plenty of it!" Dorothy was ploughing through thefluffy white mass nearly up to her knees. "A good eighteen inches musthave fallen already and it's drifting fast. If it doesn't stop bytonight, Winncote will be snowed in for a while. What's that buildingover there, Gretchen--gray stone, isn't it?"

  "That's the laboratory, miss. It's really a wing of the house. Thestables are just beyond, but this storm's so thick, it blots them out.Well, here we are at the garage. If you'll wait a minute, I'll stepinside and get a broom."

  "Get two if you can," suggested Dorothy. "Then we'll both get someexercise, and they'll come in handy while we're getting through thedrifts."

  "I'll do my best," said Gretchen. She disappeared through a door in
theside of the building.

  Dorothy looked about her. Rolling clouds of windswept snowflakes made itimpossible to see objects more than a few yards away with anydistinctness. The dark shadow of low clouds painted the white of herlandscape a cold, dull gray. But she noticed, as she waited, that thestorm was driving in gusts, that occasionally there would be a shortlull when the sun, tinging the sky with rose and yellow, seemed fightingto break its way through to this white-blanketed world. Then Gretchen, abroom in each hand, joined her.

  "Whew! that place was stuffy," she said, handing one of the brooms toDorothy, and starting ahead at right angles from the way they had come."Hanley made a fuss giving me two--he would! It's a wonder the carsdon't melt in there. He keeps the place like an oven. All the help fromthe city is like that. They can't seem to get warm enough, and the waythey hate fresh air is a caution! I roomed with Sadie, the otherchambermaid, when I first came, and you won't believe it, but that girlhad nailed our window shut so it couldn't be opened! I spoke to Mr.Tunbridge next morning, and he gave me a room of my own. I always didlike Mr. Tunbridge. He's a real gentleman, he is."

  They forged ahead through the drifts to the crossfire of Gretchen'slight chatter, and Dorothy was given a series of entertaining storiesconcerning the habits of the Winncote servants and their lifebelow-stairs. It was rough going with the storm in their faces, andGretchen eventually ceased her gossiping from sheer lack of breath. Theground began to slope gently downward, and finally they came to a beltof trees in a hollow. Fifty yards farther on, a broad expanse of whitemarked the extent of Winncote Pond beneath its thick, flat quilt ofsnow.

  "Think the ice will hold?" Dorothy walked to the brink of the littlelake. "I'd hate to go in on a day like this."

  "Oh, that's all right. I was down here for an hour yesterday afternoonwith my skates before the snow began, and it was much warmer then. Theice was wonderful--slick as glass and solid as a rock."

  By dint of considerable exercise they cleared two narrow paths that ranparallel across the ice. Then they commenced a series of slidingcontests, each girl on her own ice track. Starting at a line in the snowa few yards above the low bank, they would race forward to the brink andshoot out on the ice, vying with each other to see who could slide thefarthest. There were several tumbles at first, but the deep snow alongthe sides of the tracks prevented bad bumps. Soon, however, they bothbecame adepts at the sport. Dorothy, aided by her extra weight, for shewas at least twenty pounds heavier than little Gretchen, invariably won.

  After a half an hour of this rather violent sport, they cleared the snowfrom a fallen tree trunk and sat down for a rest. Here in the hollow,surrounded by trees, the wind lost a great deal of its force. But thesnow continued to fall unabated, and their hot breath clouded like steamin the cold air. Their cheeks were tingling crimson from the racing, andboth felt in high good spirits.

  "I can't understand why so many rich people go south every winter,"Gretchen said earnestly. "I wouldn't miss out on this fun--the snow andthe skating, tobogganing--for anything in the world."

  "People like that," decreed Dorothy, "just don't know how to live. Youcan have lots of fun in summer, of course. I don't know which I love thebest. But this sort of thing makes you feel just grand. It certainly putthe pep into--." She stopped short and sprang to her feet. Fromsomewhere close by and seemingly below her, had come a low, moaningsound.

  Gretchen jumped up. Her doll-like face with its round, blue eyes took ona look of startled wonder. "What was that?" she cried. "It sounded as ifI--as if I was sitting on it!"

  Again came the low cry in a weird, minor key.

  "You were. It's coming from the inside of this log. An animal of somekind."

  "Why, I guess you're right. Whatever it is, the thing gave me theheebie-jeebies for a minute."

  The snow had drifted over the butt of the half-rotted tree. Dorothy tookher broom and swept it clear.

  "The log's hollow!" she exclaimed and bent down. "Yes, there's somethingin there--I can see its eyes--come here, Gretchen! You can see foryourself."

  "Not me!" declared that young woman. "I don't want to get bit--I mean,bitten, miss."

  "Oh, never mind the grammar." Dorothy was almost standing on her head,trying to get a better view. "But do cut out the polite trimmings whenwe're alone. You're Gretchen and I'm Dorothy--savez?"

  "All right--Dorothy. But please be careful. That thing may jump out atyou."

  "I wish it would. Then I'd know what it is. And whatever it is, theanimal in there can't be much bigger than a rabbit. The hole isn't wideenough."

  "Maybe it is a rabbit." Gretchen came nearer.

  "Did you ever hear a rabbit make a noise like that?" Dorothy's tone wasdisdainful.

  "Then--maybe it's a wildcat!" said Gretchen fearfully.

  "Well, if it is, it's a small one. Here, puss--puss. The silly thing istoo far in to reach. She just blinks at me."

  "Perhaps she's hurt and crawled in there to die, Dorothy."

  "Aren't you cheerful! She probably crawled in there to get out of thestorm, and is half-frozen, poor thing."

  "Well, I don't know what we're going to do about it," sighed Gretchen,still keeping her distance.

  Once more the low moan came from the log, but now that the end was freefrom snow, the sound was much clearer.

  "That's no wildcat, either!" Dorothy twisted her head, first to theright, then to the left, in an attempt to get a better light on thelog's occupant. "There's too much of a whine in that cry. The thing'sprobably a young fox. How does one call a fox, Gretchen? I'm hanged if Iknow."

  "Nor me, neither, Dorothy. It's the first time I've ever heard ofanybody wanting to call one."

  They both laughed. "You don't seem to know much about foxes," teasedDorothy. "Didn't you ever see a fox?"

  "No. But my father says the way they steal eggs and suck them is acaution."

  "Well," admitted Dorothy, "we can't stand around here all day, trying toget frozen foxes out of hollow logs. I'll try whistling, and you canmake a noise like a sucked egg. If that doesn't work, we'll have toleave him in his lair." With a wink at the giggling Gretchen, she bentdown again and whistled shrilly. "Here, boy!" she called. "Come on outto your mama!"

  There was a scrambling noise within the log, and Gretchen started forthe pond.

  "Oh, be careful, Dorothy! Do be careful!" she cried, as she saw herfriend gather a small creature into her arms. "What is it, anyway--is ita fox?"

  "No, a first cousin." Dorothy shook the ends of her wool scarf free fromsnow and wrapped them around the small animal.

  "A first cousin?" Gretchen came nearer. "What in the world do you meanby that?"

  "Come and take a look," her friend invited. "He won't bite you, willyou, boy?"

  Gretchen saw her pat a little black nose that poked its way out of thescarf. A long pointed head, brindle and white, in which were set twosnapping black eyes, followed the nose. "Why, why, it's a fox terrier--afox terrier puppy!" she gasped. "How do you suppose he ever came tocrawl into that log?"

  Dorothy patted the dog's head. "Got lost in the storm, I guess. The poorlittle chap can't be over three months old. Does he belong up at thehouse?"

  "No, he doesn't. What's more, none of the people who live around herehave a fox terrier pup that I know of."

  Dorothy examined the pup's front paws, but did so very gently. "Thislittle man has come a long way." She covered him again. "The bottom ofhis feet show it. They're cut and badly swollen. And he's half-frozenand starved into the bargain, I'll bet. Let's go back to the house andmake him comfortable."

  "I'll carry the brooms," said Gretchen. "You have an armful, with him.By the way, you're going to keep him, aren't you?"

  "Surest thing you know! That is, unless someone comes to claim him."

  They trudged off through the trees and up the hill, Gretchen shoulderingthe brooms.

  "What are you going to call him?" she asked, after a while.

  "What do you think?"

  "Why, I don't know. W
ait a minute, though--there's a girl who lives overin Silvermine named Dorothea Gutmann. Daddy sometimes does work for herfather. Dorothea has a fox terrier pup and she calls him 'Professor.' Doyou know why?"

  "I give up," said Dorothy, floundering through the snow beside her. "Whydoes Dorothea Gutmann call her fox terrier pup Professor?"

  "Because," smiled Gretchen in delight, "he just about ate up adictionary!"

  Dorothy laughed merrily, and hugged the warm little bundle in her arms."And when you've got outside a lot of words like that, even a pup wouldknow as much as the average professor, I s'pose."

  "That's the way Dorothea thought about it. I've been over to theGutmanns a couple of times with Daddy and her dog looks enough likeyours to be a twin!"

  "We run into doubles nowadays, every day!" Dorothy chuckled. "First it'sJanet and me who can't be told apart. Then it's Dorothea's dog and mine.I know her, too, by the way. She's in the New Canaan Junior High. But Ihaven't seen her puppy. Our names are almost alike, too, but not quite,thank goodness. If any more of this double identity business comesalong, I'll just have to give up. A girl's got to have some sort of apersonality all her own, you know."

  "I wouldn't let that worry me," said Gretchen. "There's only one DorothyDixon, after all."

  "Thanks for those kind words, Gretchen. That's really very sweet of you,though. If the pup was a lady, I'd call him 'Gretchen'. Since he isn't,'Professor' will do very nicely. We'll try him on a dictionary when weget home, that is, after he's had some nice warm bread and milk, and agood sleep."

  "If," smiled Gretchen, "what you said just now was meant for acompliment--well, I'm glad Professor is not a lady. You'd better go onto the house, while I drop these brooms in here at the garage. I'll cometo your room just as soon as I can slip into my uniform, and I'll bringup the bread and milk."

  "I always knew you were a dear," said Dorothy, and she continued to pushher way on toward the house.