Название | The Chance of a Lifetime (Musaicum Romance Classics) |
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Автор произведения | Grace Livingston Hill |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 4064066386061 |
Bob accepted the book and papers eagerly and would have sat down to examine them, then and there, but Alan reminded him that it was almost four o’clock, and he had less than four hours to sleep before his journey.
“That’s all right, Mac,” said the boy, “I’ll have plenty of time on board the ship. However, you need your sleep, too. I’ll turn in now.”
Morning came all too soon for the two young sleepers, but, nevertheless, they were alert early.
“Say, kid, you’re some beaut!” announced Bob rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and gazing at the other boy. “Boy! You look as if you’d been in a fight for sure.”
“Well, I don’t want any worse one,” laughed Alan. Then suddenly sobering, he sprang out of bed wildly.
“Great cats!” he exclaimed. “I never looked to see if I brought home those papers last night.”
He dashed wildly toward his coat, which hung in the closet, and fumbled in first one pocket and then another, finally bringing out a bundle of official-looking documents, fastened together with rubber bands.
“Well, I’ll be jiggered! Here they are!” he exclaimed, his face breaking into joy. “Now whaddaya think of that? Brought ‘em home after all, and didn’t remember a thing about it. Boy! I’m glad! Now the next thing is, is that agreement among ‘em, or did that poor fish get away with it?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Bob looking over his shoulder at the sheaf of papers. “Was there something in that safe somebody wanted? Have you any idea who that burglar was?”
“Well, not exactly, but there is a man trying to put something over on Dad, and I just reckoned he might be hunting some papers or something. I don’t know for sure, because I can’t ask Dad till he gets better. I’ve got to figure it out for myself. But I’d give two cents, right now, if I could go have a look into that fellow’s face before he cleared out. I don’t suppose we’ll ever get a line on him.”
“H’m!” said Bob thoughtfully. “Wish I were staying a day or two. I’d like to help you search it out.”
“Here’s an agreement,” said Alan thoughtfully. “Might be it.” He opened it and read, and then folded the papers away in his coat pocket again. “Guess I’ll put these in the safe deposit box in the bank this morning. Come, Bob, we’ve got to get a hustle on. You don’t want to miss that train, and we’ve several things to do before train time. We’ll just get down and eat a bite and then we can take it easy. What have you left do yet? Anything but gather up your baggage?”
“Oh, just one or two little things,” said Bob. “It won’t take me long.”
Alan’s mother had ordered breakfast served at once when they came down, honey dew melon, chops, fried potatoes, waffles, and amber coffee. She came smiling in as the boys sat down.
“Why, is this a banquet, Mrs. MacFarland?” said Bob, rising and pulling back her chair. “You oughtn’t to have done it. All this! And I’m sure you don’t have breakfast at this hour every morning.”
“You’re going on a journey,” said the smiling mother. “You’ll need a good breakfast. And besides, we’re so happy this morning, we want to celebrate. Alan, your father is really better, the doctor says. It will be a long time before he pulls back to things, but he has passed the worst, he hopes.”
It was a happy meal, and Bob’s heart warmed with the feeling that he belonged and might help rejoice in the happiness and relief of these new friends. All too quickly, the minutes passed, and the boys started out together. But just as they went out the door, the telephone rang, and Alan was called to answer.
“I’ll start on,” called Bob. “Meet you at the post office. How’s that? Got to leave my address or my brother-in-law will examine any letters that might come.”
But Bob did not go at once to the post office. Instead, he sprinted back down the back street and entered the alley, the scene of the fracas the night before. He walked over the ground pretty thoroughly, examining everything, and then followed the path down among the weeds, into the fields where the fugitive disappeared. Yes, there were hasty tracks in the grass; tall weeds lying flat as if a heavy, hasty foot had crushed them, but they ended in a group of elderberry bushes down near the railroad, no sign of any footsteps beyond the bushes. He stood looking at the vague path thoughtfully a moment and then retraced his steps. He did not notice a frail young girl, with big troubled eyes, watching him from behind the back fence on the other side of the alley, until he was opposite her. And then he saw that it was Lancey Kennedy, the niece of Mrs. Corwin, who kept the millinery store on the other side of the alley and lived in a small apartment over the store. Bob didn’t know Lancey very well. She was shy and retiring, and had been in town only about a year. She had come to Rockland with her aunt after the death of her parents. But she had been in his high school class, and of course, he recognized her. She was one of the best students in the class.
He would have passed her with a brief nod of good morning, but he saw that she was waiting to speak to him. And it suddenly struck him how lovely her eyes were, great deep brown wells. What was the matter with him this morning?
He paused as she spoke.
“I was waiting to speak to you. There’s something I think you ought to know,” she said, in a voice that seemed almost frightened. “Weren’t you here last night? I thought I heard them call you ‘Bob,’ and it seemed like your voice that answered.”
“Sure, I was here,” he answered, stepping a little closer. “Did they wake you up?”
“Why, I hadn’t been asleep,” she said. “I was worried. You see, my room is in the third story back. And just as I turned my light out, I heard a noise out here in the alley and I looked out, and I was sure I saw a man’s feet disappearing into the window of the store.”
“The dickens! You did?” said Bob with a whistle of astonishment.
“But I wasn’t sure at all,” said Lancey. “It is awfully dark in the alley. But I waited, and pretty soon I saw a light in the store. Sometimes I wasn’t sure but it was just the reflection of the streetlight over there on the mirror. I thought it was my imagination. Then I got so excited I didn’t know what to do. It seemed as if I ought to tell somebody, but I couldn’t get down without waking my aunt, and I knew she wouldn’t hear to my calling somebody. She would have said I was a romantic little fool. So I waited, but I guess I ought to have gone anyway. But before I got my courage up, I saw someone else come down the alley, and a man jumped out of the window, and then it all happened. I wanted to scream out but was so frightened I couldn’t make a sound, and when I got control of myself, I saw two people come running, and I heard Mr. Washburn call out, ‘Get him, Bob.’ “ And you answered, and then I knew there was no need. But I saw the man run down in those bushes, and then it was dark beyond; I couldn’t see him any longer. I knew you all were onto him so I needn’t do anything more, and I wasn’t sure but the police had got him, for they were all in a bunch when they came back. But after they had all gone, I sat there awhile, just watching that group of elderberry bushes till it seemed to move and walk up across the grass. And pretty soon I saw it really was a man moving in the darkest places across the end of our back fence. He had come right out of the bushes, or behind the bushes. He must have hid until you all went away. And he kept so close to the fence, I could only see the top of his head sometimes. He would move a few steps and then stop a long time.”
Bob was listening in fascination,