The Orchard Secret Part 18

Someone was coming down the stairs!

Even as the three frightened freshmen realized this, a white face was outlined by a gleaming electric torch on the landing above them. A voice, high-pitched in anger, floated down to them.

"What is the meaning of this?"

It was the dean looking like Lady Macbeth, holding an electric candle above and in front of her, so that the gleam made curious shadows on her stern face. And above all other possible colors she was wearing a cerise robe! Perhaps deans were secretly like that.

"Go to your room at once and report to me in the morning!"

Lady Authority turned with all her dignity and swept away, while the girls, with consternation knocking at their hearts, crept up the stairs to the harbor of their room.

CHAPTER XIII Aftermath

While Sim, in the room the three girls shared, undressed with weary slowness, Terry and Arden sat like youthful inquisitors and shot question after question at her until the whole foolish episode was at last laid bare before them.

"Sim, you must have had a touch of the sun, or something, to do what you did," Arden said spiritedly.

"It's all over now, Arden--there's no use crying over the straw that broke the camel's back or the spilled milk that got in the eye of the needle in the haystack, or something," Terry remarked soothingly.

"Thanks," murmured Sim. And then, with sudden energy: "But, oh, girls! I forgot to tell you the most exciting part! We came in as far as we could on the back road--you know, where it circles the college grounds near the orchard and finally comes out at the main highway?" She looked questioningly at her hearers.

"Yes, we know," said Arden, and Terry nodded, adding:

"Let's hear it all."

"Well, I thought," went on Sim, "that we had better stop for a minute to see if there were any lights in this dorm before we went any farther. So we did, but I didn't notice just where we were, as I was looking so hard toward where I knew you two would be, and on the watch for me, I hoped."

"As we were," said Arden.

"Yes. Thanks a lot. But listen to this." By Sim's manner Terry and Arden knew something startling was to be told--something so startling that, for the moment, it drove from their minds the thought of having been caught by the stern dean.

"Suddenly," said Sim, "away down at the far end of the orchard, I saw a light bobbing about!"

"Ye G.o.ds, Sim! Did Mr. Newman see it? What was it?" demanded Arden excitedly.

"He saw it, and so did the chauffeur, for he said something about why someone should be out in a gloomy old orchard at that time of night with a lantern. I was frozen with horror!" Sim was enjoying herself and watching the eyes of the girls widen with surprise.

"Well, go on!" whispered Terry. "What did you do?"

"We didn't say a word--just sat there in the car and watched the light coming closer. I felt sure it was someone looking for me."

"For you?" gasped Arden.

"Well, I mean trying to find out who was coming back to college so late, against the rules--afraid they'd find me out, you know."

"Oh, yes," Terry murmured.

"Pretty soon," resumed Sim, "we said that it was someone carrying a lantern--holding it down low so it was only s.h.i.+ning on the ground."

"Don't stop, Sim--tell us who it was!" Terry begged.

"I don't know who it was. He didn't pa.s.s very close, and from the way he was carrying the lantern I could only see his legs and part of one hand, but--" Sim paused dramatically--"he seemed like a young man."

"Did he see you?" Arden blurted out.

"Perhaps; though if he did, he didn't seem to care. He went stumbling on his way toward Bordmust. Then I came out of my daze and told Mr. Newman we'd better be getting on our way. Of course, he thought it queer that a man should be out that hour of night near a girls' school, but I pa.s.sed it off by saying it was the watchman on his rounds. But, girls, it wasn't, though even the little I could see made me feel he belonged around here. But, here's a question, a hard one, really: What do you suppose he was doing in the orchard after midnight?"

"I can't imagine. It's all very queer. And," went on Arden, "I hope it just stays merely queer. But now, to be practical--much as I know you hate to be that way, Sim--I think we had all better get some sleep. We'll have to see Tiddy in the morning, and we had better have our wits about us when we do." Arden yawned. The conference was ended. The girls got into bed. The light was extinguished. Silence settled over the room.

Terry, as usual, lost no time in getting to sleep. Sim, utterly exhausted, was sighing heavily as she burrowed under the blankets.

But Arden was never more wakeful. All the various adventures the girls had shared in the past were as clear in her mind as though she were watching a motion-picture film of them. She tossed and turned. Through the gloom Arden fancied she could see again the face of the man described in the reward placard in the post office.

Arden was still certain that, somewhere, she had seen that face before.

The fright she and her chums had in the orchard, was, in some way, linked with the lantern man Sim had seen that night. Then, intruding upon that situation, it was borne to Arden that the swimming pool was in as hopeless a shape as on their arrival at Cedar Ridge.

What would Sim do now?

And what would happen at the morning interview with Miss Tidbury Anklon, the severe dean? Arden was desperate. She would never get to sleep at this rate. As quietly as she could, she arose, went to her bureau, and managed, by feeling, to find the bottle of aspirin tablets. She swallowed one, taking a few sips of unpleasantly tepid water from the gla.s.s at her bed-side table, and tried to compose herself again. She noticed that Sim and Terry were breathing like tired, sleeping children.

Arden lay flat on her back, as she had read somewhere this was a good thing to do when one could not get to sleep. Closing her eyes tightly, she began to count:

"One! Two! Three!"

Suddenly the white woolly sheep leaping gayly over a black fence became huge red apples rolling toward her as she was stretched helpless on the ground. She put up her arms to ward them off, but to no avail. Soon she was covered completely by an immense pile of the fruit. Her voice, as she sought to cry for help to Terry and Sim, would not sound. She tried in vain to crawl out from beneath the heap of red apples as hard as stones.

"Arden! Arden! You're dreaming! Wake up!"

Sim was shaking her gently. Slowly Arden returned to consciousness. She raised herself on one elbow and stared dazedly about the dim room.

"Sim--I've had such a horrid dream!" Arden took a deep breath and sat up.

"Oh, dear, it's almost morning!"

She had, in truth, slept nearly the night through. A gray dawn, shot with glints of the rising sun, pressed against the window.

"In a few hours we'll be in Tiddy's office," Arden sighed. "I wish it was all over!"

Sim had nothing to say to this. She reached over and tugged at the blankets covering the still slumbering Terry, saying:

"You might as well wake up, too. It's morning."

Terry grunted sleepily. "What? Oh--it's you, Sim. I remember. Today's the day. What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty," supplied Arden, looking at her watch. "Let's get dressed and have it over with. We can see Tiddy in an hour."