Mary Louise

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER VIII

  A FRIENDLY FOE

  It required two days and a night to go by rail from Beverly to Dorfieldand as Mary Louise had passed a sleepless night at the school shedecided to purchase a berth on the sleeper. That made a big hole in hersurplus of eight dollars and she also found her meals in the dining carquite expensive, so that by the time she left the train at Dorfield herfinances would be reduced to the sum of a dollar and twenty cents.

  That would not have disturbed her, knowing that thereafter she would bewith Gran'pa Jim, except for one circumstance. The little man with thefat nose, who had taken the train at Beverly, was still on board. Allthe other passengers who had been on the train at that time had one byone left it and been replaced by others, for the route lay throughseveral large cities where many alighted and others came aboard. Onlythe little man from Beverly remained, quiet and unobtrusive but somehowhaunting the girl's presence in an embarrassing manner.

  He seldom looked at her but was found staring from the window whenevershe turned her eyes toward him. At first she scarcely noticed the man,but the longer he remained aboard the train the more she speculated asto where he might be going. Whenever she entered the dining car he tooka notion to eat at that time, but found a seat as far removed from heras possible. She imagined she had escaped him when she went to thesleeper, but next morning as she passed out he was standing in thevestibule and a few moments later he was in the diner where she wasbreakfasting.

  It was now that the girl first conceived the idea that he might befollowing her for a purpose, dogging her footsteps to discover at whatstation she left the train. And, when she asked herself why thestranger should be so greatly concerned with her movements, sheremembered that she was going to Gran'pa Jim and that at one time anofficer had endeavored to discover, through her, her grandfather'swhereabouts.

  "If this little man," she mused, glancing at his blank, inexpressivefeatures, "happens to be a detective, and knows who I am, he may thinkI will lead him directly to Colonel Weatherby, whom he may then arrest.Gran'pa Jim is innocent, of course, but I know he doesn't wish to bearrested, because he left Beverly suddenly to avoid it. And," she addedwith a sudden feinting of the heart, "if this suspicion is true I amactually falling into the trap and leading an officer to mygrandfather's retreat."

  This reflection rendered the girl very uneasy and caused her to watchthe fat-nosed man guardedly all through that tedious day. Sheconstantly hoped he would leave the train at some station and thusprove her fears to be groundless, but always he remained in his seat,patiently eyeing the landscape through his window.

  Late in the afternoon another suspicious circumstance aroused heralarm. The conductor of the train, as he passed through the car, pausedat the rear end and gazed thoughtfully at the little man huddled in therear seat, who seemed unconscious of his regard. After watching him awhile the conductor suddenly turned his head and looked directly atMary Louise, with a curious expression, as if connecting his twopassengers. Then he went on through the train, but the girl's heart wasbeating high and the little man, while seeming to eye the fleetinglandscape through the window, wriggled somewhat uneasily in his seat.

  Mary Louise now decided he was a detective. She suspected that he hadbeen sent to Beverly, after the other man left, to watch her movements,with the idea that sooner or later she would rejoin her grandfather.Perhaps, had any letter come for her from her mother or Gran'pa Jim,this officer would have seized it and obtained from it the address ofthe man he was seeking. That would account for their failure to writeher; perhaps they were aware of the plot and therefore dared not sendher a letter.

  And now she began wondering what she should do when she got toDorfield, if the little man also left the train at that station. Suchan act on his part would prove that her suspicions were correct, inwhich case she would lead him straight to her grandfather, whom shewould thus deliver into the power of his merciless enemies.

  No; that would not do, at all. If the man followed her from the trainat Dorfield she dared not go to Peter Conant's house. Where, then,COULD she go? Had she possessed sufficient money it might be best toride past Dorfield and pay her fare to another station; but her fundswere practically exhausted. Dorfield was a much bigger town thanBeverly; it was quite a large city, indeed; perhaps she could escapethe supervision of the detective, in some way, and by outwitting himfind herself free to seek the Conant's home. She would try this andcircumstances must decide her plan of action. Always there was thechance that she misjudged the little man.

  As the conductor called the station the train halted and the girlpassed the rear seat, where the man had his bare head half out the openwindow, and descended from the car to the platform. A few others alsoalighted, to hurry away to the omnibuses or street car or walk to theirdestinations.

  Mary Louise stood quite still upon the platform until the train drewout after its brief stop. It was nearly six o'clock in the evening andfast growing dark, yet she distinctly observed the fat-nosed man, whohad alighted on the opposite side of the track and was now saunteringdiagonally across the rails to the depot, his hands thrust deep in hispockets and his eyes turned away from Mary Louise as if the girloccupied no part of his thoughts.

  But she knew better than that. Her suspicions were now fully confirmedand she sought to evade the detective in just the way any inexperiencedgirl might have done. Turning in the opposite direction she hastilycrossed the street, putting a big building between herself and thedepot, and then hurried along a cross-street. She looked back now andthen and found she had not been followed; so, to insure escape, sheturned another corner, giving a fearful glance over her shoulder as shedid so.

  This street was not so well lighted as the others had been and she hadno idea where it led to. She knew Dorfield pretty well, having onceresided there for three years, but in her agitated haste she had nowlost all sense of direction. Feeling, however, that she was now safefrom pursuit, she walked on more slowly, trying to discover herwhereabouts, and presently passed a dimly-lighted bakery before which aman stood looking abstractedly into the window at the cakes and pies,his back toward her.

  Instantly Mary Louise felt her heart sink. She did not need to see theman's face to recognize the detective. Nor did he stir as she passedhim by and proceeded up the street. But how did he happen to be there?Had she accidentally stumbled upon him, or had he purposely placedhimself in her path to assure her that escape from him was impossible?

  As she reached the next corner a street car came rushing along, halteda brief moment and proceeded on its way. In that moment Mary Louise hadstepped aboard and as she entered the closed section and sank into aseat she breathed a sigh of relief. The man at the bakery window hadnot followed her. The car made one or two more stops, turned a cornerand stopped again. This time the little man with the fat nosedeliberately swung himself to the rear platform, paid his fare andremained there. He didn't look at Mary Louise at all, but she looked athim and her expression was one of mingled horror and fear.

  A mile farther on the car reached the end of its line and the conductorreversed the trolley-pole and prepared for the return journey. MaryLouise kept her seat. The detective watched the motorman and conductorwith an assumption of stupid interest and retained his place on theplatform.

  On the way back to the business section of Dorfield, Mary Louiseconsidered what to do next. She was very young and inexperienced; shewas also, at this moment, very weary and despondent. It was clearlyevident that she could not escape this man, whose persistence impressedher with the imminent danger that threatened her grandfather if shewent to the home of the Conants--the one thing she positively must notdo. Since her arrival was wholly unexpected by her friends, with whomshe could not communicate, she now found herself a forlorn wanderer,without money or shelter.

  When the car stopped at Main Street she got off and walked slowly alongthe brilliantly lighted thoroughfare, feeling more safe among themoving throngs of people. Presently she came to a well-rememberedcorner where the p
rincipal hotel stood on one side and the FirstNational Bank on the other. She now knew where she was and could findthe direct route to the Conants, had she dared go there. To gain timefor thought the girl stepped into the doorway of the bank, which wasclosed for the day, thus avoiding being jostled by pedestrians. She setdown her suit case, leaned against the door-frame and tried todetermine her wisest course of action.

  She was hungry, tired, frightened, and the combination of sensationsmade her turn faint. With a white face and despair in her heart sheleaned heavily back and closed her eyes.

  "Pardon me," said a soft voice, and with a nervous start she opened hereyes to find the little fat-nosed man confronting her. He had removedhis hat and was looking straight into her face--for the first time, sheimagined--and now she noticed that his gray eyes were not at allunkindly.

  "What do you want?" she asked sharply, with an involuntary shudder.

  "I wish to advise you, Miss Burrows," he replied. "I believe you knowwho I am and it is folly for us to pursue this game of hide-and-seekany longer. You are tired and worn out with your long ride and theanxiety I have caused you."

  "You are dogging me!" she exclaimed indignantly.

  "I am keeping you in sight, according to orders."

  "You are a detective!" she asked, a little disarmed by his frankness.

  "John O'Gorman by name, Miss. At home I have a little girl much likeyou, but I doubt if my Josie--even though I have trained her--wouldprove more shrewd than you have done under such trying circumstances.Even in the train you recognized my profession--and I am thought to berather clever at disguising my motives."

  "Yes?"

  "And you know quite well that because you have come to Dorfield to joinyour grandfather, whom you call Colonel Weatherby, I have followed youin an attempt to discover, through you, the man for whom our governmenthas searched many years."

  "Oh, indeed!"

  "Therefore you are determined not to go to your destination and you areat your wits' end to know what to do. Let me advise you, for the sakeof my own little Josie."

  The abrupt proposal bewildered her.

  "You are my enemy!"

  "Don't think that, Miss," he said gently. "I am an officer of the law,engaged in doing my duty. I am not your enemy and bear you no ill-will."

  "You are trying to arrest my grandfather."

  "In the course of duty. But he is quite safe from me for to-night,while you are almost exhausted through your efforts to protect him. Gointo the hotel across the way and register and get some supper and aroom. To-morrow you will be able to think more clearly and may thenmake up your mind what to do."

  She hesitated. The voice seemed earnest and sincere, the eyesconsiderate and pitying, and the advice appealed to her as good; but--

  "Just for to-night, put yourself in my care," he said. "I'm ashamed tohave annoyed you to such an extent and to have interfered with yourplans; but I could not help it. You have succeeded in balking theDETECTIVE, but the MAN admires you for it. I noticed, the last time youtook out your purse in the dining-car, that your money is nearly gone.If you will permit me to lend you enough for your hotel expenses--"

  "No."

  "Well, it may not be necessary. Your friends will supply you with moneywhenever our little--comedy, shall we say?--is played to the end. Inthe meantime I'll speak to the landlord. Now, Miss Burrows, run acrossto the hotel and register."

  She gazed at him uncertainly a moment and the little man smiledreassuringly. Somehow, she felt inclined to trust him.

  "Thank you," she said and took her suit case into the hotel office.

  The clerk looked at her rather curiously as she registered, butassigned her a room and told her that dinner was still being served.She followed the bellboy to her room, where she brushed her gown,bathed her hands and face and rearranged her hair. Then she went to thedining room and, although the journey and worry had left her sick andnervous, she ate some dinner and felt stronger and better after it.