Back Aa

Grace Harlowe's Fourth Year at Overton College

<h3>KATHLEEN'S GREAT STORY</h3> The inside of the Overton police station closely resembled that of Oakdale. There was the same style of high desk, the same row of chairs against the wall. Grace hoped the chief would be as easy to approach as was her old friend, Chief Burroughs, at home. There was but one man to be seen, an officer, who sat writing at a small table in one corner of the room. Kathleen pointed to a half-open door leading into an inner room on which appeared the word "Private." Grace nodded: then, confidently approaching the officer, asked if the Chief of Police were in. For answer the officer simply motioned with one hand toward the half-open door and went on with his writing. Chief of Police Ellis glanced up in surprise to see two strange young women standing in the door of his private office. "Are you the Chief of Police, and may we come into your office for a moment?" questioned Grace politely. "Come in, by all means," responded the chief heartily. He was a kindly, middle-age man, whose voice and manner invited confidence. "What can I do for you, young ladies?" Grace turned to Kathleen, who at once poured forth the story of the appearance of "Larry, the Locksmith" in Overton, of his recognition and of how he had been traced to his hiding place. At first Chief Ellis had looked incredulous over Kathleen's strange statement. "How can you be sure he is the man if you have never seen him?" he asked shrewdly. "We can't afford to arrest the wrong man, you know." Kathleen looked appealingly at Grace. "You have a daughter in the freshman class, haven't you, Chief!" asked Grace, coming to the newspaper girl's rescue. "Yes," smiled the chief. "I thought you were Overton girls." "I am Miss Harlowe of the senior class. This is Miss West, a sophomore. You would not wish your daughter's name to be used in police court news, would you?" Chief Ellis made an emphatic gesture of negation. "No!" he answered. "Then I am sure you will keep secret what I am about to tell you." Grace then explained the situation, beginning with the theft of the class money in Oakdale and ending with her trailing of the thief to his hiding place. "Well, I declare!" exclaimed the chief. "This is a most remarkable story. However, I am willing to proceed on the strength of it. I'll have three men on the way to capture 'Larry' within the next fifteen minutes. You young ladies had better go home. You can call me on the telephone every half hour until the men come in. I'll keep you posted. If they get him at once, you can get word to your paper to-night," he assured Kathleen. "You must be a pretty smart girl to be going to college and holding a newspaper job at the same time." Instead of going to Wayne Hall to await word from the chief, the two girls first made arrangements with the telegraph operator at the depot office to wire the story. Kathleen also sent a telegram to her paper. Then they had begun their anxious vigil in the drug store on the corner above the station. An hour later their watch ended. The three officers returned with a snarling, raging prisoner securely handcuffed to one of their number. "They've captured him!" cried Kathleen, "and now my work begins in earnest." While they had been waiting the newspaper girl had employed the time in writing rapidly in a note book she carried. Grace would have liked to see what she wrote, but now that the first excitement had passed she felt the old constraint rising between them like a wall. "Do you care if I don't wait for you in the telegraph office?" asked Grace. "I'll go as far as the door with you. Then I think I had better go on to the Hall. Anne will be worried about me." Kathleen assented to her plan with a look of immeasurable relief which Grace was not slow to observe, but misconstrued entirely. "I suppose she doesn't wish to be bothered while she sends in her story," was Grace's thought as they left the drug store. "Good night. I thank you for helping me," said Kathleen in a perfunctory tone as she turned to go into the office. "It is going to be a great story." "You are very welcome," responded Grace. "Good night, and good luck to you." Three anxious-faced girls were waiting for Grace in her room, and as she opened the door they pounced upon her in a body. "Grace, Grace, you naughty girl, where have you been?" cried Anne. "I am sure my hair has turned gray watching for you." "Yes, give an account of yourself," commanded Elfreda. "Have you no respect for our feelings?" "Did you imagine no one would miss you?" was Miriam's question. "I will answer your questions in order," laughed Grace. "I've been out on important business, I have the deepest respect for your feelings, and I know that my friends always miss me." "Spoken like a soldier and a gentleman," commended Elfreda. "Which is quite remarkable, considering the fact that I am neither," retorted Grace. "Grace, what on earth have you been doing?" Anne's face grew sober. There was a subdued excitement in her friend's manner that had not escaped her notice. "Anne, I cannot tell a lie," returned Grace lightly. "I've been to the police station." The three girls stared at Grace in amazement. "Let me see," mumbled Elfreda. "Have I transgressed the law lately, or had any arguments with Grace? This looks suspicious." "Don't tease me, and promise you will never tell any one what I'm about to say. Hold up your right hands, all of you." Three right hands were promptly raised. "Now, I'll tell you about it," declared Grace, "and please bear in mind, before I begin, that venerable old saw about truth being stranger than fiction." "I knew something startling had happened," declared Anne, when Grace had concluded. "I read it in your face." "Oh, why wasn't I with you?" was Elfreda's regretful cry. "I have always longed to be concerned in a real melodrama." Miriam, alone, made no comment. She regarded Grace with an intent gaze that made the latter ask quickly: "What is the matter, Miriam? Don't you approve of my evening's work? I know Father and Mother won't. I must write them to-morrow. Still, I could hardly have done otherwise." "Of course you couldn't," assured Miriam. "I don't disapprove of what you did. You behaved in true Grace Harlowe fashion." "Then what made you look at me so strangely?" persisted Grace. "If I looked at you strangely, then I beg your pardon," smiled Miriam. "It shall not happen again." Grace smiled faintly, yet her intuition told her that Miriam had purposely turned her question aside. No account of the recapture of "Larry, the Locksmith" appeared in the morning paper. But in the evening paper a full account was published. Grace had waited apprehensively for the evening edition, which was usually out by four o 'clock in the afternoon. She purchased a paper of the boy who stationed himself daily at the southeast corner of the campus, but purposely delayed opening it until she reached her room. Then almost fearfully she unfolded it, with her three friends looking over her shoulder. The article began with the flaring headline, "A Desperate Criminal Recaptured." Grace glanced rapidly down the column, then gave an audible murmur of relief. "We aren't mentioned. I shall always have a superlatively good opinion of Chief Ellis. He kept his word to me absolutely. Now I shan't mind writing Father." "If I had done what you did, I'd insist upon having my name in extra large type, and a portrait and biographical sketch of myself as well," was Elfreda's modest declaration. "No, you wouldn't, and you know it," contradicted Grace. "Well, I might not go as far as the portrait, but I should certainly have the biographical sketch." "I am going to entertain to-night in honor of Grace," announced Miriam. "Shall I invite some of the other girls, or shall we four celebrate in solitary state?" "Don't invite any outsiders this time," said Elfreda. "Then we'll be free to talk over our visit to Mabel and anything else we choose." "There is one person who really ought to be invited," broke in Grace, with conviction. "I mean Kathleen West. Then we can deliver Mabel's invitation to her. I have an idea that she won't refuse to go to New York with us. I hope she will be different from now on. It would be simply splendid to glide peacefully through the rest of one's senior year without a single hitch, wouldn't it?" "Have you seen her since last night?" asked Anne. Grace shook her head. "I knocked on her door at noon, but neither she nor Patience was in. I saw Patience afterward, and she said Kathleen had hurried through her luncheon and gone. I don't think Patience knew anything about last night. If she had known, she would have mentioned it. I will try to see Kathleen before dinner." "You will have to hurry if you do. It is almost time for the dinner bell now," said Elfreda. "You might ask Patience, too." "All right, I'll go at once. Wait for me. I'll be back in a minute. Then we can go down to dinner together." Grace knocked lightly upon the door of the end room. It was opened by Kathleen herself. "Good evening. Won't you come in?" Kathleen's voice was as cold and unfriendly as it had formerly been. "Good evening." Somewhat puzzled at Kathleen's return to her old, cavalier manner, Grace hardly knew how to proceed. "Did you see today's paper?" she asked, by way of beginning. "Which paper?" was the brusque inquiry. "Why, the 'Evening Journal,' of course." "Oh!" Kathleen's tense expression relaxed a trifle. "Yes, I saw it." "I am so glad Chief Ellis kept his word. I hope you were on time with your New York story." "Thank you. It went through nicely!" Kathleen answered in a low tone. "I just stopped for a moment to ask you to come to a little jollification in Miriam's room to-night. We want Patience, too." "Miss Eliot went to Westbrook this afternoon. She will not return until to-morrow morning. As for me, I thank you, but it will be impossible for me to come. I have another engagement." "I am sorry," returned Grace. "Perhaps, under the circumstances, I had better deliver another invitation I have for you at once. I recently received a letter from Miss Ashe inviting us to spend Thanksgiving at her home in New York. She wished me to extend her invitation to you, also. Mabel does not know——" began Grace. Then her face reddened and she ceased abruptly. Kathleen, understanding the flush, said dryly: "Miss Ashe is very kind to think of me. However, it is out of the question for me to accept her invitation. I will write her to-night. It is strange she did not write me, too." "She has been extremely busy," retorted Grace, her face flushing a still deeper red at Kathleen's rudeness. "She invited Miriam, Elfreda and Anne the same way." "That has nothing to do with me," declared Kathleen. "If you will be so kind, you might say in your letter to her that I will write her within a few days." She kept her face half averted, her eyes refusing to meet Grace's. "Very well." Grace felt her anger rising. She turned from the door, which closed almost in her face, and went back to her room hurt and indignant. "Refused and trampled upon as well," declared Elfreda after one glance at Grace's stormy eyes. "Never mind, Grace. I wouldn't let a little thing like that worry me. I wouldn't even think about it." Grace gave a short laugh. "Of course 'you could see,'" she mimicked. "I'd be blind if I couldn't," grinned Elfreda. "The look in your eyes tells the story." "You are right, as usual. She has frozen again. She is icier than ever." "Where's Patience?" asked Anne. "Gone to Westbrook. Won't be back until to-morrow. If she were here she might prevail upon Kathleen to behave reasonably." "We four have been known to enjoy ourselves together without adding to our number," observed Elfreda in a dry tone. "I think I could live without her." Grace brightened. "Oh, wise and superwise Elfreda, in your words lurk the essence of truth. We four will have one of our own special brand of good times to-night. See, I throw all my cares to the winds." Grace waved her arms as though to cast Care from her. "I have tried to solve the mystery of the mysterious Kathleen and it is beyond me. I hoped after last night that she would be different from then on, but to-day she is more provoking than ever. I shall say nothing of her in my letter to Mabel, except that I delivered the invitation, but when we go to Mabel's for Thanksgiving if she asks for an explanation of certain things I shall not hesitate to give it." "That is the way I like to hear you talk," approved Elfreda. "I don't mean the 'wise and superwise Elfreda' part. I'm not so conceited, I hope. But it is high time you let that Kathleen West meander along to suit her own tricky little self. She hasn't an iota of Overton spirit nor a shred of conscience, and instead of appreciating your kind offices she is far more likely to repay you by dragging you into something unpleasant. I could see by Miriam's expression when you told us about the capture of that man that she thought you had trusted Kathleen too far, too." "I confess I was thinking that very thing," laughed Miriam, "but how Elfreda guessed it is more than I can see." "But the man has been captured, the story has appeared in the Overton paper and Kathleen has kept her word about not mentioning me in connection with the affair," protested Grace. "Nothing unpleasant can possibly happen now." But Grace was destined to realize before many hours passed that she had been over-confident. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.