There were no fragments of china, but where the grove
began I picked up a silver spoon. So far Rosie’s
story was borne out: I began to wonder if it
were not indiscreet, to say the least, this midnight
prowling in a neighborhood with such a deservedly bad
reputation. Then I saw something gleaming, which
proved to be the handle of a cup, and a step or two
farther on I found a V-shaped bit of a plate.
But the most surprising thing of all was to find
the basket sitting comfortably beside the road, with
the rest of the broken crockery piled neatly within,
and a handful of small silver, spoon, forks, and the
like, on top! I could only stand and stare.
Then Rosie’s story was true. But where
had Rosie carried her basket? And why had the
thief, if he were a thief, picked up the broken china
out of the road and left it, with his booty?
It was with my nearest approach to a nervous collapse
that I heard the familiar throbbing of an automobile
engine. As it came closer I recognized the outline
of the Dragon Fly, and knew that Halsey had come back.
Strange enough it must have seemed to Halsey, too,
to come across me in the middle of the night, with
the skirt of my gray silk gown over my shoulders to
keep off the dew, holding a red and green basket under
one arm and a black cat under the other. What
with relief and joy, I began to cry, right there, and
very nearly wiped my eyes on Beulah in the excitement.
CHAPTER IX
JUST LIKE A GIRL
“Aunt Ray!” Halsey said from the gloom
behind the lamps. “What in the world are
you doing here?”
“Taking a walk,” I said, trying to be
composed. I don’t think the answer struck
either of us as being ridiculous at the time.
“Oh, Halsey, where have you been?”
“Let me take you up to the house.”
He was in the road, and had Beulah and the basket
out of my arms in a moment. I could see the
car plainly now, and Warner was at the wheel—Warner
in an ulster and a pair of slippers, over Heaven knows
what. Jack Bailey was not there. I got
in, and we went slowly and painfully up to the house.
We did not talk. What we had to say was too
important to commence there, and, besides, it took
all kinds of coaxing from both men to get the Dragon
Fly up the last grade. Only when we had closed
the front door and stood facing each other in the
hall, did Halsey say anything. He slipped his
strong young arm around my shoulders and turned me
so I faced the light.
“Poor Aunt Ray!” he said gently.
And I nearly wept again. “I—I
must see Gertrude, too; we will have a three-cornered
talk.”
And then Gertrude herself came down the stairs.
She had not been to bed, evidently: she still
wore the white negligee she had worn earlier in the
evening, and she limped somewhat. During her
slow progress down the stairs I had time to notice
one thing: Mr. Jamieson had said the woman who
escaped from the cellar had worn no shoe on her right
foot. Gertrude’s right ankle was the one
she had sprained!
