The Secret of the Sundial

by Mildred A. Wirt

  CHAPTER XIV An Unexpected Meeting

  "Better watch where you're going!" the man said gruffly.

  "I--I beg your pardon," Madge stammered, unable to remove her eyes fromhis face.

  For a moment they continued to stare, then the man moved on. Madge lookedafter him, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.

  "I've seen him before," she told herself tensely. "In Miss Swenster'sgarden."

  Watching the retreating figure, she was convinced she had not beenmistaken in her first hasty conclusion. The man was none other than themysterious prowler. His build was the same; he had a similar way ofwalking: everything tallied.

  "And that's not the only place I've seen him," she thought. "Let methink--"

  Before her eyes flashed a mental picture of the photograph she had seenhanging in Miss Swenster's study. She recalled the youthful face, theregular, almost classical features, a head of curly, golden hair.

  "He's changed some with the years," she told herself, "but I'll bet acookie it's John Swenster. I wonder if Miss Swenster knows he's inClaymore?"

  Such a possibility seemed remote. Madge knew that Miss Swenster was stillso distressed by the memory of her adopted son that his presence in thecity was almost certain to disturb her usual calm manner. And during thepast few days she had seemed no different than usual.

  She wondered what had brought the man to Claymore. It was unlikely he hadcome to attend the auction sale or to see his mother. His secret trips tothe garden suggested a deeper, more selfish purpose.

  Madge was inclined to hurry back to the mansion to tell Miss Swenster thestartling news. A minute's thought convinced her that such a course wouldbe unwise.

  "There's just one chance in a hundred that I'm mistaken," she reasoned."And if I should tell Miss Swenster her son is here when it's some otherperson, she might never get over the shock. No, I must be absolutely surebefore I say a word to her."

  She looked after the retreating figure. He was far up the street, walkingswiftly, but she thought she could overtake him.

  "I'll follow and see where he goes," she decided.

  She soon saw that he was heading toward the business section of Claymore.Rapidly cutting down the distance between them, she then kept just farenough behind to avoid suspicion.

  As they reached the downtown section, the stranger walked faster, movingin and out to pass pedestrians hurrying home from work. Madge found itincreasingly difficult to keep him in sight.

  Then she lost him entirely.

  "I don't see where he went unless he dodged in somewhere," she thought.

  She gazed in through the window of a drug store but could not locate him.The only other possibility was the Grand Hotel. She went in.

  The lobby was crowded. Madge looked carefully about, observing no one whoresembled the man she sought.

  "I'll see if his name is on the register," she decided.

  Before she could transfer the thought to action, an elevator dischargedpassengers. Several of the men walked toward the main desk. And one ofthem was the stranger Madge had followed. He did not glance in herdirection but moved directly to where the clerk was standing.

  Madge slipped behind a pillar and waited.

  "I'm checking out early this evening," she heard him say tersely. "I leftmy baggage upstairs but I'll not be using the room after six. Pleasecharge me accordingly."

  He passed within a few feet of where Madge was standing, and walked outthe front entrance.

  "At least he'll not be snooping around the mansion any more," she toldherself with satisfaction. "And judging from the crabby way he acts, hehasn't been very successful in his mission--whatever it is."

  After the man's back had vanished through the revolving doors, she movedover to the desk, asking to see the register. She glanced over the firstpage of names and turned back. At last she came to it: "John Swenster,Chicago."

  "Well, that proves I was right," Madge commented inwardly. "And now theproblem is whether or not to tell Miss Swenster."

  Emerging from the hotel she was astonished to see how dark it had grown.Consulting her watch, she realized it was too late to find Silas Daviesat the Ruggles'. Regretfully, she decided that she must let the work onthe sundial go for that night.

  "It's supper time now and Miss Swenster and Cara will be wondering whatbecame of me," she thought uncomfortably. "Aunt Maude will be in my wooltoo if I don't scamper home."

  A few minutes later, breathless from hurrying so fast, she let herself inthe front gate of the mansion and rushed up the walk. Cara, who had beenwatching at a window for the past half hour, flung open the door.

  "Where have you been all this time?" she demanded. "Didn't you bring theworkman after all?"

  "Sorry," Madge apologized, flashing her a significant look which Cara didnot understand. "Other matters came up. Anyway, Mr. Davies was working atthe Ruggles'. I imagine we can get him tomorrow."

  Cara was disappointed and disclosed it. She brightened when Miss Swenstersuggested that both girls remain for supper. It was not difficult topersuade Madge, for she felt that she should tell Miss Swenster what shehad discovered, and she preferred time to lead up to the mattergradually.

  The girls telephoned to their homes, receiving permission to remain. Theyhelped Miss Swenster with the supper, setting the table, and taking greatpains with the salad which was their own concoction.

  It was nearly seven-thirty when they sat down to dine. For some reason,conversation lagged. Miss Swenster appeared unusually constrained thoughshe made a studied attempt at cheerfulness. No one ate very much. It wasin the minds of all that this likely would be their last supper together.In a few days the mansion would be sold.

  "I wish you weren't going away, Miss Swenster," Cara said presently. "Itwon't seem right for any other person to live in this lovely house."

  Miss Swenster smiled, but tears shone in her eyes. She brushed themimpatiently away.

  "What a sentimental old fool I am! Here I've not lived in this house foreight years but now that I know I'm to lose it, I feel so desolate. It'salmost as though I'm losing my last friend."

  "You have a great many friends here in Claymore," Madge assured her,"only they're timid about coming to see you. I've heard folks say so."

  "I suppose you're right," Miss Swenster agreed slowly. "There was a timewhen I didn't care to see people. I couldn't bear their sympathy. I drovethem away."

  She relapsed into a moody silence which neither of the girls ventured tobreak. Presently, she looked up and smiled apologetically.

  "I shouldn't impose my troubles on you. I'm sure that at times my actionsmust have seemed very queer. I feel I owe you an explanation for certainthings which likely are not clear."

  "Your past is your own," Madge said kindly.

  "Don't tell us anything that you dislike to bring up."

  "I feel I must speak of my--my son. It was his picture you saw in thestudy. I turned it to the wall on the day I closed up the mansion."

  Madge and Cara nodded, not wishing to interrupt. They already had guessedthis much.

  "I found John in an orphan's home. He was nine when I adopted him, andthe sweetest boy in the world! Oh, I adored him! But even as a boy he wasinclined to get into trouble. He'd take things that didn't belong to him.I couldn't seem to teach him the difference between right and wrong. Oh,I dislike to admit it, but he was willful and he repaid my kindness withindifference.

  "I sent him away to school, thinking he might benefit by a change inenvironment. Once away from my watchful eye, he went from bad to worse.He fell in with the wrong sort of companions. He spent far more moneythan I could afford to give him. Several times he forged my name tochecks.

  "Finally, I told him that if he did not straighten up I should disownhim. For a time he seemed to do better. I was encouraged. Then he forgedanother check--this time using the name of a prominent Claymore man. I'llnot bore you with the details. It was the end. I sent him away and I'venever see
n him to this day."

  "But you've forgiven him?" Madge asked softly.

  Miss Swenster did not reply at once. Then she said:

  "I loved John more than any other person in the world, but it was awasted love. I realize that should I take him back he would only make meunhappy. If he were to step into this house this very night, I'd tell himto go!"

  Madge gazed at her queerly.

  "You really mean that?"

  "Yes, it may sound hard, but I gave twenty years of my life to John. Forthe first time I am commencing to see him in his true colors, ungilded bymy ideals. I can never hope to forget him entirely, but at least hismemory becomes more bearable."

  Madge was sorely troubled. She had fully intended to tell Miss Swensterthat her son was in Claymore. Now it seemed a cruel thing to do. By herown admission, the old lady was gradually casting off unhappy memorieswhich had held her enslaved for so many years. She felt herselfsufficiently strong to confront her son, yet Madge wondered. Might not itbe better to say nothing? By tomorrow John Swenster would be far awaywith no one the wiser, providing she kept her own counsel.

  She was still turning the matter over in her mind when they left thesupper table. The girls cleared the table and wiped dishes. Madge droppeda plate which fortunately did not break.

  "What ails you tonight?" Cara asked. "Are you worrying about that Frenchquiz we had today?"

  Madge laughed.

  "No, but it might be better if I would worry a little. I flunked it flatI know."

  "You always say that, but at the end of the month I notice you manage tosqueeze through pretty well at the head of the list!"

  They finished drying the dishes and stacked them in the cupboard. Madgewas putting away the last plate when she suddenly straightened.

  "What was that?"

  "I didn't hear anything," Cara returned.

  "I thought I heard something fall to the ground. It sounded like it camefrom the garden."

  "You're imagining things," Cara laughed. "Did you hear anything, MissSwenster?"

  "No, I didn't. It might have been a ladder that fell. The man who wasworking on the house yesterday, left one standing against the eaves."

  Madge did not look completely convinced.

  "I might just run out and see."

  "Don't be a goose!" Cara remonstrated. "I think it was your imagination.We're too far away from the garden to hear any noise from there. It wasprobably the ladder."

  Madge allowed her chum to drag her into the living room. She went to thewindow and looked out. It was a black night but had there been a moon shecould not have seen the garden for a wing of the house obstructed theview. The wind howled plaintively outside. Miss Swenster thought the roomwas cold and went to the kitchen for fire-wood.

  They built a cheerful little blaze in the fireplace. Madge and Cara saton the floor, watching the embers. Presently, Miss Swenster brought inmarshmallows which they toasted above the coals.

  "Look out!" Cara warned. "Yours is burning, Madge."

  Madge flung the charred marshmallow into the fire and abruptly arose. Sheslipped on her coat.

  "Where are you going?" Cara demanded.

  "Oh, just out to the garden. I want to satisfy my curiosity. I've had anuneasy feeling all evening."

  Cara laughed scoffingly but when she saw her friend was not to bedissuaded, she too arose. Miss Swenster reached for her shawl.

  "We may as well all go," she said. "I feel that fresh air would do megood too."

  They filed out the front way, Madge leading. She was the first to reachthe garden. Uttering a cry of surprise and alarm, she ran to the sundial.

  It lay upon its side and the pedestal had been split from the dial!