Automobile Girls at Washington; Or, Checkmating the Plots of Foreign Spies

by Laura Dent Crane

  CHAPTER XIX

  HARRIET IN DANGER

  Harriet Hamlin was restless and nervous all the next day. Even Mr.Hamlin, noticing his daughter's nervous manner at luncheon, suggestedthat she take her friends out to pay some calls. So Bab put forth herplea that she wished to make another visit to the home of the Chineseminister. As the girls had not yet paid their luncheon call at theembassy Harriet agreed to take them to see Wee Tu. Before she left thehouse Harriet called up her dressmaker and had a long confidential talkwith her over the telephone. She seemed in better spirits afterwards.

  The Chinese minister's wife, Lady Tu, was receiving. As there were no menin the drawing-room, her daughter, Wee Tu, sat among the young girls asquiet and demure as a picture on a fan.

  Bab managed to persuade the little girl into a corner to have a quietchat with her. But Miss Wee Tu was difficult to draw out. Across theroom, Harriet Hamlin chanced to mention the name of Peter Dillon. Atonce the little Chinese girl's expression changed. The change was veryslight. Hardly a shade of emotion crossed her unexpressive, Orientalface, but curious Barbara was watching for that very change. Sheremembered the young girl had been affected by Peter's appearance duringtheir former visit.

  "Do you like Mr. Dillon?" inquired Bab. She had no excuse for herquestion except her own wilful curiosity.

  But Wee Tu was not to be caught napping.

  "Lige?" she answered, with a soft rising inflection that made the "k" in"like" sound as "g." "I do not know what Americans mean by theword--'Lige.' You 'lige' so many people. A Chinese girl 'liges' only afew--her parents, her relatives; sometimes she 'liges' her husband, butnot always."

  "Don't like your husband!" exclaimed Bab in surprise. "Why, what doyou mean?"

  The little Chinese maiden was confused both by the American word and theAmerican idea.

  "The Chinese girl has respect for her husband; she does what he tells herto do, but she does not all the time 'lige' him, because her father haschosen him for her husband. I shall marry a prince, when I go back toChina, but he is 'verra' old."

  "Oh, I see!" Bab rejoined. "You thought I meant 'love' when I said'like.' It is quite different to love a person." Bab smiled wisely. "Tolove is to like a great deal."

  "Then I love this Mr. Peter Dillon," said the Chinese girl sweetly.

  Bab gasped in shocked surprise.

  "It is most improper that I say so, is it not?" smiled Miss Wee Tu. "Butso many things that American girls do seem improper to Chinese ladies.And I do like this Mr. Peter very much. He comes always to our house. Heis 'verra' intimate with my father. He talks to him a long, long time andthey have Chinese secrets together. Then he talks with me so that I canunderstand him. Many people will not trouble with a Chinese girl, who isonly fifteen, even if her father is a minister."

  Barbara was overwhelmed with Wee Tu's confidence, but she knew shedeserved it as a punishment for her curiosity. The strangest thing wasthat the young Chinese girl spoke in a low, even voice, without the leastchange of expression in her long, almond eyes. Any one watching her wouldhave thought she was talking of the weather.

  "I go back to China when my father's time in the United States is overand then I get married. It makes no difference. But while I am in yourcountry I play I am free, like an American girl, and I do what I likeinside my own head."

  "It's very wrong," Barbara argued hastily. "It is much better to trust toyour parents."

  "Yes?" answered Wee Tu quietly. Bab was vexed that Peter Dillon'scareless Irish manners had also charmed this little Oriental maiden. ButBab was wise enough to understand that Wee Tu's interest was only that ofa child who was grateful to the young man for his kindness.

  Barbara rose to join her friends, who were at this moment saying good-byeto their hostess.

  "It is the Chinese custom," Lady Tu remarked graciously, "to make littlepresents to our guests. Will not Mr. Hamlin's daughter and her fourfriends receive these poor offerings?"

  A servant handed the girls five beautiful, carved tortoise shell boxes,containing exquisite sets of combs for their hair, the half dozen or morethat Chinese women wear.

  "I felt ashamed of my wind-blown hair when Lady Tu presented us withthese combs," Grace exclaimed, just before the little party reached home.They had paid a dozen more calls since their visit to the ChineseEmbassy. "I suppose Chinese women are shocked at the way American girlswear their hair."

  "Yes, but we can't take three hours to fix ours," laughed Mollie, runningup the steps of the Hamlin house. In the front hall Mollie spied animmense box of roses. They were for Harriet. Harriet picked up the boxlanguidly and started upstairs. She had talked very little during theafternoon, and had seemed unlike herself.

  "Aren't you going to open your flowers, Harriet?" Mollie pleaded. "I amcrazy to see them."

  "I'll open them if it pleases you, Mollie," Harriet returned gently. Thegreat box was crowded with long-stemmed American beauties and violets.

  "Have some posies, girls?" Harriet said generously, holding out her armsfilled with flowers. For a long time afterwards the "Automobile Girls"remembered how beautiful Harriet looked as she stood there, her face verypale, her black hair and hat outlined against the dark oak woodwork withthe great bunch of American beauties in her arms.

  "Of course we don't want your posies, Lady Harriet," Mollie answeredaffectionately. "Here is the note to tell you who sent them to you." ButHarriet went on to her room without showing enough interest in her giftto open the letter.

  After dinner Harriet complained of a headache, and went immediately toher room. The "Automobile Girls" were going out to a theater party, whichwas being given in their honor by their old friends, Mrs. Post and Hugh.Harriet sent word she would have to be excused. When Ruth put her headinto Harriet's room to say good-bye, just before she started for thetheater, she thought she heard her cousin crying.

  "Harriet, dear, do let me stay with you," Ruth pleaded. "I am afraid youare feeling worse than you will let us know."

  But Harriet insisted that she desired only to be left alone. Feelingstrangely unhappy about her cousin, Ruth, at last joined thetheater party.

  Mr. Hamlin did not leave the house immediately after dinner, although hehad an engagement to spend the evening at the home of Mrs. Wilson. Shehad asked him, only that morning, to come. Mr. Hamlin was also troubledabout his daughter. He had not been so unobservant that he had not seenthe change in her. She was less animated, less talkative. Mr. Hamlinfeared Harriet was not well. Though he was stern and unsympathetic withHarriet, he was genuinely frightened if she were in the least ill.

  So it was with unusual gentleness that he tapped lightly onHarriet's door.

  "I am all right, Mary, thank you," Harriet replied, believing her maidto be outside. "Go to bed whenever you please. I shall fall asleepafter a while."

  Mr. Hamlin cleared his throat and Harriet started nervously. Why was herfather standing outside her door? Had he learned of her bill to herdressmaker?

  "I do not wish to disturb you, Harriet," Mr. Hamlin began awkwardly. "Ionly desired to know if I could do anything for you."

  "No, Father," poor Harriet replied wearily. As Mr. Hamlin turned away,she sprang up and started to run after him. At her own door she stopped.She heard her father's stern voice giving an order to a servant, and hersudden resolution died within her. A few moments later the front doorclosed behind him and her opportunity had passed.

  An hour afterwards, when the house was quiet and the servants nowhereabout, Harriet Hamlin slipped cautiously downstairs. She was gone only afew minutes. But when she came back to her own room, she opened a privatedrawer in her bureau and hid something in it. Harriet then threw herselfon her bed and lay for a long time with her eyes wide open, staringstraight ahead of her.

  Just before midnight, when she heard the gay voices of her friendsreturning from the theater, and when Ruth tripped softly to her bedroom,Harriet lay with closed eyes, apparently fast asleep.

  The next morning Harriet was really ill. Her hand tremb
led so while shepoured the breakfast coffee that she spilled some of it on thetablecloth. When Mr. Hamlin spoke to her sharply she burst into tears andleft the room, leaving her father ashamed of himself, and the "AutomobileGirls" so embarrassed that they ate the rest of their breakfast inpainful silence. Ruth did dart one indignant glance at her uncle, whichMr. Hamlin saw, but did not in his heart resent.

  Harriet was willing, that morning, to have Ruth come into her darkenedbedroom and sit by her bed. For Harriet's wakeful night had left herslightly feverish.

  "I don't want to disturb you, Harriet," Bab apologized, coming softly tothe door. "But some one has just telephoned for you. The person at thetelephone has a message for you, but whoever it is refuses to give hisname. What shall I do!"

  Harriet sat up in bed, quickly, a hunted expression on her beautifulface. "Tell Mr. Peter Dillon that I will keep my word," Harriet answeredangrily. "He is not to worry about me again."

  "Is that your message?" Bab queried wonderingly. "It was not Mr.Dillon's voice."

  Harriet laughed hysterically. "Of course not!" she returned. "Oh, I knowyou girls are wondering why I am behaving so strangely. And I ambreaking my word to tell you. But I must tell some one. I don't carewhat Mrs. Wilson and Peter Dillon say, I know I can trust you. I havedecided to help Mrs. Wilson and Peter play their silly joke on Fatherand the State Department! Oh, you needn't look so horrified, girls. Itis only a joke. The papers are about some Chinese business. I have themhid in my bureau drawer."

  Harriet nodded toward her dressing-table, while Ruth and Bab stoodlooking at each other, speechless with horror, the same idea growing intheir minds.

  "When Father comes to look for his stupid papers he'll find them gone,and, of course, will think he has misplaced them," Harriet continued. "Hewill be dreadfully worried for a little while; then Mrs. Wilson willreturn the papers to me and I will slip them back in their old place, andFather will never know what has happened. Mrs. Wilson and Peter havevowed they will never betray me, and I have promised not to betray them.If I were to be caught, I suppose Father would never forgive me. But I'lltake good care that he doesn't find out about it."

  "Harriet, do please give up this foolish plan!" Ruth entreated earnestly."I know you are doing something wrong. Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Dillon bothknow that Uncle William's papers are too valuable to be played with. Why,they belong to the United States Government, not to him! Harriet, Iimplore you, do not touch your father's papers!"

  Harriet shook her head obstinately. She was absolutely adamant. Ruthpleaded, scolded, in vain. Bab did not say a word nor enter a protest.She was too frightened. All of a sudden a veil had been rent asunder. Nowshe believed she understood what Peter Dillon and Mrs. Wilson had plannedfrom the beginning. They were spies in the service of some higher power.The papers that Harriet thought were to be used for a joke on her fatherwere really to be sold! Was not some state secret to be betrayed? Eversince Bab's arrival in Washington it had looked as though Peter Dillonand Mrs. Wilson had been working toward this very end. Having failed withher they had turned their attention to poor Harriet. But Mrs. Wilson andPeter Dillon must be only hired tools! Shrewdly Barbara Thurston recalledher recent conversation with innocent Wee Tu: "Mr. Dillon and my father,they have Chinese secrets together." Could a certain distinguished andwisely silent Oriental gentleman be responsible for the thrilling dramaabout to be enacted? Bab was never to know positively, and she wiselykept her suspicion to herself.

  "I do wish, Ruth, you and Bab would go away and leave me alone," Harrietprotested. "I shall be well enough to get up for luncheon, if you willlet me take a nap. I don't see any harm in playing this joke on Father.At any rate, I have quite made up my mind to go through with my part init and I won't give up my plan. You can tell Father if you choose, ofcourse. I cannot prevent that. I know I was foolish to have confided inyou. But, unless you are despicable tale bearers, the papers in my bureaudrawer will go out of this house in a few hours! I don't see any harm intheir disappearing for a little while. Father will have them back in afew days. Please go!"

  Yet with all Harriet's air of bravado, however, there was one point inher story which she did not mention. In return for her delivery ofcertain of her father's state papers Mrs. Wilson and Peter Dillon hadpromised to advance to Harriet the five hundred dollars necessary to payher dressmaker. Harriet had agreed only to receive it as a loan. And shetried to comfort herself with the idea that her friends were only doingher a kindness in exchange for the favor she was to do for them. Still,the thought of the money worried Harriet. But how else was she to besaved from the weight of her stern father's displeasure?