She listened intently so as not to miss a word the men were saying.
“Any mail today, Hank?” she heard Ronald Trent mutter.
“No, but we’ll git something soon, I hope,” Henry answered so low that Doris scarcely caught the words. “Takes a while to git mail from the oil fields, I reckon.”
“Wish things would start breaking our way for a change,” Ronald said. “First thing we know that smart-looking Force kid will throw a wrench into the works and ruin our plans. I need money bad, too.”
“You ain’t the only one.”
“Everybody does,” growled Trent softly.
“I can’t stand this outfit much longer,” mumbled Henry dejectedly.
“How’s the crowd in town treating you?” inquired Trent, a bit maliciously. “The town officials haven’t decided on a clean-up week, have they?”
“Naw, that’s all right. But this law-abidin’ flock make me tired. Too many females pokin’ around—just too many,” muttered Henry disgustedly, taking out his watch, and winding the stem thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side in an attitude of alertness. The hour was growing late.
Doris shrank back, but there was no need. They were entirely unaware of her nearness.
Ronald Trent laughed suggestively. This made Doris’s cheeks burn with embarrassment as he said, “Gee, that bunch of flowers smell good to me! I love the ladies, especially the pretty girlies, Henry. I’m not so hard to be friends with,” the egotist mused. “I’m a swell dresser, too, everything the dames like.”
Henry envied him his position with the Misses Gates, it was plain to be seen, as he accepted the statement with a nod of approval.
There was a pause as Ronald Trent took out a wallet and looked over its contents.
Doris waited in the dark hallway, unable to see the contents.
“The old dames are shutting down a bit,” Ronald went on. “I had to play up to ’em tonight and got only two hundred at that.”
“Too bad the old gals got that letter off to the red-head. That was one you missed, Trent.”
This reference to her made Doris decide to creep a step or two nearer. She had heard enough to convince her that Henry and Ronald were conspiring against Azalea and Iris, the two trusting, flower-like ladies!
She strained forward to catch more of the conversation.
CHAPTER X
Memories
However, Doris was to learn no more that night, for as she moved softly down the stairs the two men pushed back their chairs.
“You’d better be gettin’ out of here before those old gals find out what we’re doing,” he warned. “I’ll let you out the back way.”
They moved on to the kitchen and Doris, made bold by her knowledge of the underhanded scheme, came down into the living room. She heard the back door close as Ronald Trent hurriedly departed. A moment later, as the gate creaked, Wags gave another savage yelp.
Not until she heard Henry starting up the back stairs to his own quarters, did Doris dare venture to the door. Waiting until everything was still again, she quietly let herself out of doors.
Wags whimpered joyfully as she stooped down to unfasten him, and lifted up his paws. Doris picked him up, and holding him close, stole back into the house. She closed and locked the door behind her and listened. The coast seemed clear.
“Don’t you dare bark!” she whispered to Wags.
Tiptoeing up the stairway, she anxiously wondered if she could reach her room without being discovered.
“Azalea and Iris are probably asleep by this time,” she thought.
In this supposition she was not correct. The Misses Gates were at that moment lying wide awake in their adjoining rooms in the left wing, recalling vivid memories of their girlhood when each hoped to be the bride of the handsome John Trent.
Only a few close friends had understood why Doris’s uncle had gone away without marrying either of the twins, for by turns he had appeared in love with each of them. Some people had jokingly remarked that he could not tell them apart and that this was his reason for giving them up. At any rate, he had never been able to choose between them and had gone away, leaving heart-breaks behind. For Azalea and Iris the locked gates at the front entrance to the mansion were symbolic of a past which could never be forgotten.
With the passing of the years, the Misses Gates clung tightly to their memories, and the appearance of John Trent’s son had only served to freshen them. Perhaps in Ronald Trent they saw their lover of old. At any rate, they doted upon him and were flattered by his extravagant compliments. Believing that he was indeed the son of John Trent, they could not see his cheapness or his crude devices for gaining their favor. They regarded him indulgently, as a mother might her son.
Shut away from the world by their own wishes, Azalea and Iris lived only for their dreams. Wickedness was to them nebulous and unreal. They had trusted Ronald Trent because it was in their nature to trust.
As Doris stole quietly up the stairway with Wags snuggled in her arms, her thoughts were bitter. What right had Ronald Trent to ingratiate himself with Azalea and Iris, only to trick them? Obviously, his motive was money.
“He won’t get away with anything if I can help it!” she told herself.
As if to punctuate the thought, she unthinkingly gave Wags a tiny squeeze. He promptly yelped. Alarmed, Doris stopped and listened, but she could hear no one moving in the house. Quieting Wags, she continued up the stairs and down the long dark hall to her bedroom.
Letting herself in, she dropped Wags on the bed with a sigh of relief.
“I thought you never were coming,” Kitty whispered. “What in the world made you take so long?”
“Lots of things,” Doris told her impressively.
“I was scared to death here by myself.”
“It was sort of scarey down where I was too, Kit. Listen! I have the most astonishing news!”
In a few terse sentences she then told her chum all she had overheard.
“Why, the mean old scamp!” Kitty exclaimed. “So you think he is after their money?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Do you suppose they have a lot?”
“I don’t know, but I should think so. This house must be worth plenty.”
Kitty and Doris were both ignorant of real estate values and did not know that if Locked Gates were placed upon the auction block, it would bring only a comparatively small sum. The house was not modern and had fallen into a general state of dilapidation.
“At least, I’m pretty sure that man isn’t my cousin,” Doris declared, “although Henry Sully did call him Trent.”
“I knew there was something wrong with that man the minute I saw him,” Kitty insisted.
Doris had finished undressing and slipped into bed. Wags snuggled down between the girls and they permitted him to remain, for his presence made them less afraid of the unseen dangers of the old mansion.
“What do you mean to do now that you’ve discovered that those men are plotting against Azalea and Iris?” Kitty asked.
“I don’t know,” Doris admitted doubtfully. “If they learn what we’ve discovered, there is no telling what they might do to us. They already suspect that I may try to make trouble. They called me a red-head! I’ll show ’em a thing or two before I get through!”
“Will you tell the twins what you have learned?”
“Not right away. I want to get all the proof I can before I say anything to them. If I should make a mistake, they never would forgive me. You know, Kitty, I even hate to hear that man Trent laugh.”
“To be honest with you, Dory, I do too.”
“It seems so insincere.”
“Yes,” agreed Kitty. “Whenever he bursts out into one of those loud guffaws of his one just can’t help but feel that he is doing something for effect—that there is not real honest effort back of anything he is planning or doing.”
At this moment Wags, as if to comfort the two girls and to protect them from sinister wiles of
those around them, stretched forth his little red tongue and tried to bestow a wet kiss on an ear of each of the girls.
“Dear little Waggsie, you are our friend, aren’t you, even though we are not sure of the rest of them in this house?”
Wags gave a yawn of contentment, and snuggled closer between the girls.
“What do you suppose this Trent does to earn a living?” ventured Kitty.
“I can’t imagine what he does, but he surely is well dressed, and has a snappy car.”
“Dave said that car was a special imported model from France. They are very expensive—cost plenty, besides the transportation charges from the other side,” replied Kitty.
“I wonder if Uncle John Trent was anything like this Ronald. Perhaps Uncle Ward never mentioned Ronald to me, because he was so loud and coarse. However, if Uncle really never knew he existed, he won’t approve of him in our family circle now. This is really a dreadful thing to discover,” and Doris sighed disconsolately, as she pushed back her soft hair that was massed over the pillow.
“Well, Doris, I think we’re in for an adventure.”
“It certainly looks like trouble after that conversation I just overheard between Trent and Henry,” replied Doris.
“It was surely lucky they didn’t see you in the dark hallway—that would have been unfortunate,” and Kitty drew the coverlet over her bare, white arm, and shook her pillow into a more comfortable position.
Wags snored contentedly as if bored with hearing his bed-fellows chattering so late into the night.
“I’m not a bit sleepy, Kitty.”
“Neither am I,” responded her chum; “this has been such an exciting and thrillingly adventurous day, with your playing detective and getting information, that I can’t go to sleep. I’m thinking about it too much.”
“When do you suppose we’ll hear why we are here to visit?” inquired Doris of Kitty.
“Well, maybe the Misses Gates will tell us soon, and that will be helpful to place the motive.”
Far into the night the girls continued to talk, but at length, from sheer weariness, they turned over on their sides and tried to sleep.
“Hope no one finds Wags here,” Doris murmured drowsily as she closed her eyes. “We must wake up early in the morning and get him out of the house before any one is up.”
CHAPTER XI
A Sorrowful Romance
Doris and Kitty fully intended to awaken early, but when they did open their eyes the sun was streaming brightly in at the windows and some one was pounding on their door.
“Come in,” Doris murmured sleepily.
Cora Sully thrust her head in at the door and glared at the girls.
“Do you think you can get your breakfast in bed?” she demanded harshly.
“What time is it?” Doris asked, sitting up and nudging Kitty, as a signal for her to keep Wags hidden under the covers.
Wags, however, had ideas of his own and at this unfortunate moment he gave a smothered yelp and pawed his way out from under the bed clothes. He leaped to the floor and darted playfully toward the housekeeper.
“How did that dog get in here?” Cora asked sharply. “You brought him up here last night,” she accused Doris. “You little sneak!”
“I am not a sneak,” Doris retorted. She had been confused and ashamed at the untimely discovery of her pet, but now that the housekeeper had made such an uncalled for remark, she was inclined to defend herself. “We heard him barking and were afraid he would awaken every one in the house.”
The explanation did not mollify the woman but rather seemed to fan the flame of her wrath.
“Yes, you are!” she snapped. “You just wanted an excuse to prowl about the house!”
“I did not!” Doris refuted. “It didn’t seem right to leave Wags out there all by himself.”
“You had no right to bring him into the house! I’ll get him out of here!”
Vengefully, Cora bore down upon the dog.
Wags, sensing that she was an enemy to be avoided, whisked past her and leaped upon the bed. Cora began to tear viciously at the blankets in an effort to capture him.
By this time Kitty’s arms had closed protectingly upon the little dog, and Doris had jumped out of bed.
“We’ll take him downstairs just as soon as we get dressed,” she declared. “Wags hasn’t done any harm. Please don’t get so excited about it!”
“I’ll show you who’s excited!” Cora muttered.
She had completely lost control of her temper and as Kitty rolled out on the opposite side of the bed, she made another dive for Wags. By this time Doris had lost all patience.
“Don’t you dare touch my dog!” she said quietly. “If you do, I’ll call the Misses Gates!”
The mention of the old ladies produced a surprising effect upon Cora. For the moment she seemed to forget about the dog and her resentment was turned upon Doris and Kitty.
“So you’re trying to get me in trouble, eh?” she demanded harshly.
“No, of course not,” Doris tried to explain. “We’ll not say anything to the Misses Gates, if you’ll go away and leave us alone. We didn’t mean to do any harm and we’re sorry we brought Wags up here, since it has caused you so much worry.”
Cora cast baleful glances upon the girls.
“Had to come here interfering—” they heard her mutter wrathfully to herself.
“What did you say?” Doris asked.
“Nothing!”
“But I heard you say something about us coming here to interfere.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“With what could we interfere?”
Cora shifted her weight uneasily and looked confused. She felt that she had said too much.
“You seem to be afraid of something,” Doris observed shrewdly.
“Afraid!” the housekeeper snapped. “It’s you who ought to be afraid. Let me tell you a thing or two. If you don’t want to get into trouble, you’d better be starting back home!”
With that she flounced out of the room, leaving Kitty and Doris to stare blankly after her.
“Well did you ever?” Kitty exclaimed. “What did she mean by that?”
“I think she was threatening us,” Doris said in a low tone, listening to make certain that the housekeeper had gone on down the hall. “She was excited and didn’t know how much she was giving away.”
“She undoubtedly thinks we’re interfering with something.”
“Their plans, of course. Undoubtedly, Cora is in on the scheme. We’ll have to be careful not to let her suspect that we know anything.”
“Perhaps we had better go home,” Kitty suggested doubtfully. “I don’t like the way things are happening.”
“Oh, Kit, we don’t want to go home now,” Doris protested. “If we do, that horrid man will get all of the Misses Gates’s money. We must help them if we can.”
“I suppose so,” Kitty sighed. “All right, I’m game if you are. We’ll see it through to a finish. Thank goodness we have Wags with us, only I wish he were a bulldog so he could take a chunk out of any one that tries to annoy us.”
“Wags isn’t very popular now,” Doris laughed, “and he’s the sweetest little dog in the world. I don’t see how folks can help but like him. Hurry up, and get that other shoe on, Kit, or we never shall get downstairs.”
Hastily the girls finished dressing, and carried Wags down to the porch where they once more tied him.
“Poor thing must be about starved,” Doris said sympathetically. “After breakfast we’ll see if we can’t get a bone for him.”
Returning to the living room they found Azalea and Iris waiting for them. Contritely, the girls apologized for oversleeping.
“It isn’t very late,” Iris said kindly. “Only nine o’clock and we seldom have breakfast before eight-thirty.”
“We were tired last night,” Kitty declared, “and we spent a lot of time talking. We’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”
“It really do
esn’t matter,” Azalea assured her with a smile. “We were young once and remember how hard it was to get up early in the morning.”
Breakfast was waiting and the four went at once to the dining room. As Cora served, she cast sullen glances at the two girls, and this was not lost upon them. Breakfast finished, Doris went to the kitchen to ask for something to feed Wags. As she had anticipated, the request met with a storm of anger, but the timely appearance of Iris caused Cora’s manner to abruptly change. She gave Doris a pan of scraps with a show of good grace.
“After you have fed your dog, you girls might like to see the garden,” Iris suggested.
“Indeed we would.”
Doris left the pan of food at the side porch and then, with Kitty and the Misses Gates, began a tour of the yard. She glanced curiously toward the locked gates at the front of the house and wondered if either of the ladies would offer an explanation.
Iris had brought her garden shears with her, and as they wandered about, she cut each of the girls a gorgeous bouquet of roses. Presently they came to a stone bench and a tiny lily pool and here they paused.
“How well I remember,” Azalea murmured, half to herself, as she sank down upon the bench to rest, “it was just at this time of year that Iris and I first met John Trent. The roses were in bloom then, too.”
Kitty and Doris exchanged quick glances, wondering if Azalea was about to branch into the story they had been waiting to hear. She remained silent for several minutes, and when she spoke again it was in a more matter-of-fact tone.
“I suppose you wonder why we invited you here, Doris. As I told you before, it is a long story, but if you would like to hear it—”
“Indeed I would!” Doris assured her eagerly.
“Your uncle, John Trent, was a very fine young man,” Azalea began. “He was handsome and dashing—everything that a girl could wish for. Frequently he called at our home and Iris and I became very fond of him. Unfortunately, we never knew which one he liked better as he seemed devoted to both of us.”
“It made us very unhappy,” Iris took up the story. “You see, until John Trent came into our lives we had never had a disagreement. We dressed alike and we enjoyed the same things—we were rather proud of being twins. After we met John, things were entirely different. We no longer wished to resemble each other. Vying for his favor, we even refused to dress alike.”
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 6