Dorothy Wayne

“ Dorothy wished she had brought a revolver.
“Stop it! Betty, stop!” she hissed and forced her friend to crawl backward over the rough boards to the edge of the porch. “Stay here, and don’t make a sound. Do you want them out after us? For goodness’ sake, take a grip on yourself! I’m going back to the window and—not another peep out of you while I’m gone!” With this warning, she slithered away before Betty could voice an objection.
Lying flat before the window once more with her face almost level with the floor, she stared into the room. ”

“ Dorothy turned on her flash light. Its moving beam brought into bold relief the jungle of scrub oak and evergreens that walled the little pasture.
“Listen, Dorothy! I remember Father saying that they preserved game on the Pound Ridge reservation. There are sure to be bears and—and other things in these woods. Turn off the light—quick—they’ll be attracted to us if we show a light—”
“Bears—your grandmother!” said Dorothy’s mocking voice and the light flashed full on Betty. “Don’t be so silly. Come down here at once!” ”

“ Dorothy swerved and dashed across the lot, following his lead. Straight ahead lay a narrow belt of woods which ended abruptly in precipitous cliffs towering upward almost perpendicularly for several hundred feet to the top of the ridge. What Bill’s plan might be, she could not guess. Those sheer palisades certainly could not be scaled. What could his objective be? If they turned up or down the valley the enemy would be sure to hear them tracking through the thick underbrush. And there would be no chance of outflanking the pursuit, for the men were between them and the Conway house. ”

“ Betty Mayo, in the rear cockpit, glanced overside and shuddered.
“But you can’t land on those trees!” she cried shrilly. “We’ll crash—you know that!”
“Maybe we will—and maybe we won’t!” returned Dorothy, gritting her teeth. “Keep your eyes peeled for a pond or a woodlot—anywhere you think we can land.”
“What—what’s the matter?” called back her friend, steadying her wobbly nerves with an effort.
“Matter enough. We’re nearly out of gas—running on reserve fuel now. When the rain starts, it’ll be pitch dark in no time.” ”

“ Dorothy ripped off her headphone set. She could no longer allow her attention to be distracted by Betty’s excited whimpering.
The small amphibian, flying low, topped a crag-scarred ridge. At the foot of the cliff she saw a tiny woodland meadow.
Action in the air must be automatic. There is never time to reason. With the speed of legerdemain the young pilot sent her plane into a steep right bank and pushed down hard on the left rudder pedal. The result was a sideslip, the only maneuver by which the amphibian could possibly be piloted into the woodlot. ”

“ Ten minutes later, Betty and George chugged out of the drive in his flivver. Terry parked Bill’s car in back of the house, then he helped his friend to lift out the three large tins of gasoline they had brought with them from New Canaan.
“I’ll take two,” announced Bill, “and you’ll have to tote the other one, Dorothy.”
“Hadn’t I better carry it down the hill?” suggested Terry. “It’s kind of heavy.”
“No, thanks, I can manage it all right.” She lifted the can by its handle. “It’s not so heavy. Your job is to stay in the house. As it is, I hate leaving you here alone.” ”

“ Dorothy’s nap had done her good. Though still weary and stiff, she felt tantalizingly argumentative for all that she was wringing wet and horribly chilly. Talking helped to keep up her spirits. Just ahead their torch revealed a branching of the path.
“The map says we keep to the right,” announced Bill. “It’s only a step over to the Spy Rock trail now.”
“Glad to hear it—but it seems to me you are trying to evade my questions!”
“Questions?” He chuckled. “They come too fast and furious. And to be honest, how can you expect me to guess the right answers when you don’t know them yourself? ”

“ Dorothy did not stop to argue. She hurried into the dining room and across the hall to the library, followed by the others.
“Look here,” she whispered, picking up the shotgun. “Slip on your jacket, George. That shirt will show anyone you’ve been in a fight. Betty and I will go into the front sitting room. It’s dark in there. Turn on the hall light and open the door as though everything were all right, and you expected a friend. If it is someone you know, they won’t see us in the sitting room. ”

“ We most certainly have plenty to worry us.”
“But how come, Dorothy?”
“How do we know that friend Joyce hasn’t got hold of Stoker and possibly Terry, too?”
“Then—if he has, he won’t want us.”
“Oh, yes, he will. You can bet your boots, Mr. Joyce isn’t letting anyone go whom he may think was mixed up in last night’s affair.”
Bill looked surprised. “But Joyce can’t go on kidnapping people,” he argued. “Or rather he can’t keep on trying to kidnap the whole bunch who were in Stoker’s house last night, and then hold them indefinitely. Even if he caught us all, he couldn’t hold us long.” ”

“ Dorothy was as good as her word. By the time the dish water was hot, her bed had been made, the cabin swept and generally put to rights. Then she brought out the dishpan and washed both the supper and breakfast dishes while Bill and Uncle Abe dried them.
“Some swell housekeeper,” said Bill to Uncle Abe with a grimace, “and she knows how to make the men folks work, too!”
“An’ dat am ez it should be,” declared the old darky solemnly. “De Good Book say, ‘what am food fo’ de goose am good eatin’ fo’ de gander’....” ”

“ I’m not quite sure, but I think we’re on the New York State Reservation over on Pound Ridge. A good ten miles or more from home, anyway.”
“If we’re on the reservation we’re certainly out of luck,” sighed Betty. “It’s a terribly wild place—nothing but rocks and ridges and woods and things. They keep it that way on purpose.”
“Nice for picnics on sunny days, I guess,” affirmed Dorothy. “But not so good on a rainy night, eh? Here, put on this slicker before you’re wet through. Then get down. We’ve got to move out of here.” ”

“ She wasted no time peering after the car. Turning on her heel, she flew round the garage and over to the rear of the house. The cellar door was open, Betty was standing on the top step.
“Down you go!” panted Dorothy. “Take this flash and switch on the light—quick!”
A slight shove sent Betty stumbling down the stone flight and Dorothy followed more slowly, bringing down the wide door over her head.
“The light, Betty, the light!” she cried.
“B-but we can’t go into the house—those men—”
“Never mind the men—do as you’re told. I can’t find the lock on this door in the dark. Where are you, anyway?” ”

“ The light came back and Betty scrambled to the ground in a fever of haste.
“Now, then, stop being a goop and take this flash,” directed Dorothy. “Hold it on the plane so I can see. We’ve got to make Wispy secure, before we get under way.”
“I s’pose you get that Navy lingo from Bill Bolton.” Betty felt rather peevish now. “You talk just like him ever since he taught you to fly.”
“I wish he was here now,” retorted her friend, and climbed into the cockpit. “Here—take these wheel blocks and stop grouching. And for goodness’ sake, please don’t wobble that light! ”

“ Every one of you has heard as much about this as I have tonight, and every one, excepting Stoker, has kidded me because I found out some things about the bank robbery and that smuggling gang this summer. Now you won’t even take the trouble to think for yourselves. The whereabouts of that letter is clear enough; to be able to put our hands on it, is something quite different.”
“Well, I apologize for us all,” Bill leaned across the table, “we were only kidding you—weren’t we, Betty?”
“Why, of course—she knows that, she’s only trying to—”
“Come on, Dorothy,” Terry coaxed her with a grin. ”

“ If we could ditch those guys and hike over to a road, we might get a lift out in somebody’s car. Lots of people drive in here on Sundays.”
“Not in weather like this, Bill. No, even if we did persuade someone to give us a lift, we’d be soon seen and stopped.”
Bill suddenly brought his fist down upon the table.
“We’re a pair of idiots,” he declared. “Joyce’s men won’t stop us. They’ll be looking for Stoker Conway and a girl. Keep those clothes on you’re wearing, and with my old hat, all they’ll see is a couple of fellows on a tramp. Nobody’d take me for George Conway. ”

“ You’ll need a closed car on a day like this.”
When the kitchen door had shut out the smiling, motherly figure, and they were following the old darky along the drive, Dorothy turned to Bill.
“And they say that New Englanders are not hospitable! Why, they’re the most hospitable people in America if you really know them!”
“Country people, no matter what part of the United States they live in, are generally friendly. Living in cities, where your next door neighbor is a stranger, makes a person suspicious. But I’ve found that most honest-to-goodness Americans will do a lot for a person in trouble.” ”

“ Bill, do you think they’ll find the chimney?”
“Maybe. But they’re not likely to try to use it—not tonight, anyway.”
“Why not? We did it.”
“We were sure of a way up—they aren’t. And I don’t imagine they bargained for any blind climb up cliffs like these in the rain and darkness. They wouldn’t mind slugging one of us with a sand bag, but when it comes to real danger, they’d count themselves out.”
“Gee,” Dorothy giggled nervously. “I wish I’d been able to!”
“Count yourself out? Well, I don’t blame you, kid. Nerve-wracking isn’t the name for it. But you certainly stood up well. ”

“ Let’s go in the library and turn on the light. I’m tired of standing about in this hall and I want to dry out by the fire.”
In the library, George pushed a couple of easy chairs before the comforting blaze. Dorothy cast aside her slicker and helmet and dropped into one of them. She kicked off her sodden shoes and stretching her legs toward the warmth, drew forth a comb and proceeded to make herself neat. George perched on the arm of Betty’s chair, and the two stared at the flames without speaking. ”

“ She hung her wet clothes over a chair, near to Bill’s.
“Den I should’a said, fresh as a rose,” the old darky chuckled.
“And not half as dewey as when you let us in,” added Bill. “By the way, Dorothy, let me introduce our host, Uncle Abe Lincoln River—known to the world at large as Ol’ Man River, but to his friends he’s Uncle Abe. And the young lady who is parading around in your clothes, Uncle, is Miss Dorothy Dixon of New Canaan, known to many people as I-will-not-be-called-Dot! She looks kind and gentle, but if you value your life, never take her on in a wrestling bout. ”

“ If there’s going to be a shindy, you’ll be better off up the hill with Terry.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Dorothy. “If there’s going to be trouble, we’ll go it together. Anyway, you’d never be able to find the trail to the woodlot in the dark. It’s great of you to suggest carrying on without me, but it just can’t be done.”
“You sure are a good sport, Dorothy.” Bill picked up his tins. “Where do we go from here?”
“Follow me. And the less noise we make, the better.” ”

“ You’ve been a sailor, but I don’t think I’m up to climbing a swinging rope, hand over hand after coming up that chimney.” She thought for a moment, then went on. “There’s only one way I can get up there. You’ll have to tie one end of the rope to a stone and sling it over the trunk. When that end drops, we can take out the stone, I’ll stick my foot in the loop and—”
“Bill Bolton pulls you up,” he ended for her. “That listens well, Dorothy, and if the rope was running through a pulley up there, everything would be hunky-dory. As it is, she’ll be chafing against a hard, uneven surface. ”

“ Dorothy was beside him as he turned to catch her.
“Uncle Abe,” she said, taking the old man’s hand, “you are kind and you’re good, and you are very, very brave. Bill and I can never properly thank you for all you’ve done for us tonight.”
“Say no mo’ ’bout it,” protested Uncle Abe, when Bill put his hand on his shoulder.
“Look here, Uncle Abe,” he broke in, “you’re one of the grandest guys I know. Some day perhaps we can even up things a bit. You ran a big risk for us, you know.”
The old man smiled and blinked at them for a moment. “Then, yo’all must be sleepy—I sho’ is. ”

“ He said that Joyce knew about it and was trying to get control of the thing; but that outside of stealing the plans outright, Joyce could do nothing, as the partnership had been dissolved. And at the same time he told Mr. Lewis that he knew he was suffering from an incurable disease and could live but a few months longer at most.”
“Listen, Michaels—let me tell it,” interrupted old Lewis. “You are wandering all over the place.... Your father, George, said that should he have the new motor built, Joyce would undoubtedly make trouble, and he, Conway, wanted to die in peace. ”

“ The old darky removed the corncob from his mouth and looked up at his late employer.
“Well, why don’t you speak?”
“Kase yo’ done tell me not ter answer a while back.”
“I tell you to answer me now.” Mr. Joyce glared threateningly into his face. “Are you just stubborn, or in your dotage? Where are your visitors?”
The old man spat with great precision on to a glowing cinder. “Dey right hyar, Marse Joyce,” he said. ”