The Girl Scouts of the Round Table 20

The Girl Scouts of the Round Table 20

When tea was ready, purposely Tory called Mr. Winslow to her

assistance. He should not be monopolized.

 

She hoped that he would become sufficiently interested in her to allow

her to study painting with him during the approaching summer.

 

They had a delightful tea. Returning home, Tory had forgotten the

circumstances that had been troubling her: Dr. McClain and Dorothy’s

unexpected summons to New York City and the fact that she had not

received her usual letter from Katherine Moore.

 

In the front hall Mr. Richard Fenton was awaiting her arrival.

 

“We are leaving on an early train in the morning for New York, if you

can manage to be ready, Tory. Your Aunt Victoria will help you pack

your bag. I don’t think there is any cause to be alarmed. I have just

received a telegram from Dr. McClain asking me to join him as soon as

possible and to bring you. Please don’t worry or I shall be sorry to

have had to mention the telegram to you to-night. If you wish to be of

service, Tory dear, you must keep your self-control.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XV

 

UNRAVELING

 

 

At the Grand Central Station Mr. Fenton and Tory found not only Dr.

McClain and Dorothy awaiting them, but Mr. Jeremy Hammond.

 

Tory’s first impression was surprise at his unexpected presence. She

had not seen him since the summer before in Beechwood Forest, when he

had insisted upon investigating more thoroughly the evergreen cabin in

quest of information with regard to Katherine Moore. Nothing had come

of the search save a package of letters apparently of no importance.

 

During the winter Kara had written that Mr. and Mrs. Hammond had come

frequently to see her, bringing the small girl whom they had adopted

from the Gray House on the Hill.

 

Not the faintest envy had ever influenced Kara. Tory had never been

able to dispel a slight resentment that Mr. Hammond’s choice had fallen

upon the exquisite wilful little girl rather than upon Kara.

 

Mr. Hammond had come to the Gray House to seek for Kara. She was the

child he had discovered in the deserted cabin years before. His sudden

fascination with Lucy’s youth and beauty caused him to disregard Kara’s

finer possibilities. However, he had afterwards proved himself Kara’s

friend and been deeply interested in her recovery. Tory concluded

that she had no right to harbor any grievance. Assuredly Kara would

seriously object to such an emotion.

 

The instant after greetings had been exchanged, Dorothy slipped her arm

through the newcomer’s and drew her apart from the others.

 

Tory found herself afraid to look closely at her friend.

 

Would Dorothy’s face reveal strain and unhappiness from the past few

days.

 

“Lance?” she queried with the first glance, and felt a sense of relief

before the reply.

 

Dorothy appeared grave, even disturbed, but not unhappy.

 

“No, there is nothing the matter with Lance. In fact, he has had a

piece of rare good fortune. We are to go to Mr. Hammond’s office as

soon as you and Mr. Fenton have left your bags at a hotel. Father must

return to Westhaven as soon as possible and wants to talk to you first.

Please don’t ask questions. It is all too involved and mysterious to

make you understand anything. I don’t understand, although I have heard

every detail.”

 

“One thing I must ask: Has the mystery to do with Kara?”

 

Dorothy nodded.

 

“Yes, but not what you think!” which was something of a triumph as an

answer that was valueless.

 

To save time, Mr. Fenton and Tory agreed to go directly to Mr.

Hammond’s place of business, which was not far away. He had a private

office and their interview, that appeared to be secret, would not

be interrupted. A telephone message secured the necessary hotel

accommodations.

 

Tory’s surroundings made a vivid impression upon her, although she was

scarcely aware of having done more than glance about her in the hour

that followed.

 

On one of the highest floors in a tall building Mr. Hammond’s office

windows commanded a magnificent view of the city--the broken skyline,

the matchless harbor, dotted with ships from the seven seas, the

network of fairy-like bridges crossing to Long Island.

 

Tory sat in a small, straight-backed chair near one of the windows,

with Dorothy close beside her. Their faces were turned away from the

distant vista and their eyes upon the central figure in the group of

three men.

 

Mr. Hammond was in his office chair near his roll-top desk.

 

His usual somewhat careless, debonair __EXPRESSION__ had altered to one of

concern.

 

“I am going to ask Hammond to tell you the story,” Dr. McClain

explained. “He has more experience with this sort of thing. I confess

a country doctor comes in touch with more curious and romantic

circumstances than most people imagine. This is a more complicated

situation than I am accustomed to handling. Personally, I am disturbed;

I don’t know what to believe or the next step to take.”

 

“You are not making the reason for our unexpected summons to New York

any plainer,” Mr. Fenton returned, smiling at his older friend’s

preoccupation.

 

Tory gave a suppressed sigh to suggest the eagerness of her own

interest, but managed to make no remark.

 

“It is difficult to know just where to start,” Mr. Hammond added. “Dr.

McClain is right. The story contains a number of puzzling details that

make it hard to accept. Yet there is no point in Moore’s telling

anything that is not the truth. He has nothing to gain except added

responsibility. And in a day or so he claims he will be able to offer

more definite proof. In the interval, Mr. Fenton, Dr. McClain and I

decided to ask not only your advice but your niece’s. Had we best go

on, or let the affair drop here.”

 

“Yes; but oh, what _is it_ you are talking about?” Tory demanded,

unable to keep silence longer.

 

Mr. Hammond smiled.

 

“I don’t wonder you are growing restless, but please listen carefully.

There are so many circumstances and chance meetings that have to be

interwoven.

 

“In the first place, Lance McClain tells his father and sister that

quite by accident he came in contact with a Mr. Moore. It seems that he

is a musical chap and appears to be rich and cultivated. Well, he took

an interest in Lance. He confided to me he thinks the boy a kind of a

genius and wants to help him.

 

“In the early part of their acquaintance they talked of nothing but

music and Lance’s ambition to set the world on fire by to-morrow or

next day, also the fact that his family had not the proper faith in

him. By and by Lance seems to have announced that his father was a

fairly good sort, except for this weakness, and was a physician in the

town of Westhaven.

 

“Lance tells me Westhaven awakened Mr. Moore’s interest at once. Moore

wanted to know the size of the place and its exact position, who the

prominent people were and what towns were nearby. With the aid of a

railroad map and time-table the questions were not difficult to answer.

Afterwards Lance could supply him with the town’s social history.

The boy declares he was puzzled to understand any cause for his new

friend’s interest in Westhaven, but for some reason felt in honor bound

not to inquire.

 

“This is where I enter the mystery story.”

 

At this instant Tory leaned forward, her lips parted. Would Mr. Hammond

at last reveal the point in all his past ten minutes’ conversation?

What possible difference could it make to any of them whether a

complete stranger happened to care to hear unimportant facts concerning

the town of Westhaven? Once more it occurred to Tory that the village

was not of such supreme moment as its inhabitants considered it.

 

“I was reading the paper one morning when idly my eyes fell upon an

advertisement signed Moore, asking that some one from Westhaven

communicate with the writer. I recalled the fact that one or two of the

letters we discovered in the evergreen cabin were signed ‘Moore.’

 

“If I had not been going to see Kara at the time and felt tremendously

concerned over her misfortune, I don’t believe I would have paid any

attention to the notice. I chanced to see Kara that same afternoon. We

laughed over it and I promised to reply to the advertisement, hoping it

might be entertainment for her. The child was having such a hopelessly

dull and trying time!”

 

She had not intended to speak, but Tory was given to impetuous

utterance of her opinions and emotions.

 

“I am so sorry, Mr. Hammond. I thought you were not in the least

interested in Kara, that you cared only for Lucy. I hoped you would

have chosen to adopt Kara when you came for the purpose to the Gray

House on the Hill.”

 

Tory abruptly stopped, feeling, rather than seeing, that her uncle’s

eyes were upon her, reproving her for the interruption.

 

Mr. Hammond did not appear seriously annoyed.