The Automobile Girls at Newport Part 23

"That's not all," Ralph continued, "I did not mean to be an eavesdropper, but I was standing just behind you and I could not help overhearing that strange man make an appointment to meet you this morning. Say, Bab," Ralph turned toward her, all his anger gone, "don't do things like meeting that man this morning without telling. It's not nice, and I've thought you the nicest, most straightforward girl I ever knew. If there is anything between you and that fellow, why should it be a secret? A girl can't afford to have secrets, except with other girls."

"But I want to have a secret with _you_, Ralph," rejoined Barbara. "Now listen, while I tell you everything. I have never talked to you about the scene in the conservatory, the night of Mrs. Erwin's ball, though I did appreciate what you did to help me out when I made that strange request of Harry Townsend. I was not crazy. I saw Harry Townsend steal Mrs. Post's emerald necklace. Ralph," Barbara's voice was now so low that he had to bend over to hear her, "Harry Townsend is not what the people here think him. He is a professional thief, and a dangerous one."

"Whew!" whistled Ralph. "What did you say?"

Then Barbara told him the story of the three thefts, from the beginning, and her own part in discovering them. "The detectives are on the lookout now, Ralph," she added, "but they want me to keep a watch from the inside."

"Well, you are a clever one, Bab!" declared Ralph. "Look here, I am glad you told me this. I appreciate it a whole lot, and I will not mention it to anyone until you tell me I may. But, remember one thing. I shall be on the watch, too, and it's Miss Barbara Thurston I'll be watching. That Townsend is a dangerous rogue. I've known there was something crooked about him from the first. Oh, it's easy to say that, now, after what you have told me. I am not pretending I knew his special game. Only I knew he was not our sort. He is a whole lot older than he pretends to be, for one thing."

"Ralph," sighed Barbara, "do you think there is any way I could warn Gladys against Harry Townsend?"

Ralph shook his head. "Not any way that I know of. She would just snub you hard, if you tried. Even if you dared to tell her the truth she would go right off and tell that Townsend fellow. She's been pretty hateful to you, Bab. I don't see why you should care."

"Oh, but I do care," retorted Bab. "She has been horrid and stuck up, but she hasn't done Mollie and me any real harm, and she is my cousin.

Her father is my mother's brother. Uncle Ralph has never been very fond of us, nor has he come to see us very much, but he looks after mother's money. I don't suppose," wound up Barbara, thoughtfully, "he would do us any wrong. I shouldn't like Gladys to get into trouble."

"What has kept you children so long?" asked Grace, as Ralph and Barbara appeared on Mrs. Cartwright's veranda. Then she squeezed Bab's hand and whispered, so no one else could hear, "Made it up, Bab?" Barbara nodded, "yes."

Mrs. Cartwright was heard speaking. "Sit down, everyone, over there where Jones has placed the chairs for us. Professor Cartwright," she bowed to show she meant herself, "will now explain to his pupils, or his guests, the principles of the science of 'eyeology.' Human character is expressed in the human eye-our love, our hate, our ambitions, everything. But can we read the characters of people about us as we look into their eyes? No! Why not? Because the rest of the face confuses our attention. Instead of the steadfast beacon of the eye, we see the nose, the mouth, the hair, all the other features, and so we fail to understand the story the eye would tell us if it were alone. To-night I intend to instruct you in the proper understanding of 'eyeology.'"

Mrs. Cartwright changed to her usual manner of speaking. "Don't you think it would be amusing to make a test? Here Ruth," laughed the hostess, "be my first pupil. Go into the drawing-room and wait there until I send for you. I want to find out how many of your friends you will know, when you see only their eyes."

CHAPTER XX-RUTH WAKES UP!

A curious sight met Ruth's gaze when she was invited to return to the veranda.

"Goodness!" she laughed. "It is just as well I am not afraid of ghosts.

I've come upon a whole army of them all at once!"

Mrs. Cartwright had the porch darkened, except for a single row of bright lights. Her visitors stood with their backs against the wall, a sheet drawn up on a level with their eyes. Another white cloth covered their heads, drawn down so low over their foreheads that even the eyebrows were concealed. By standing on books and stools the eyes were all on a level.

"No giggling," said Mrs. Cartwright severely to the ghostly set in front of her, "or Ruth can guess who you are by the tones of your voices."

Ruth looked confused. No signs of her friends remained, save a long row of s.h.i.+ning eyes, black, blue, brown and gray, even the color being hard to distinguish in the artificial light.

"Now, mademoiselle," said Mrs. Cartwright, still speaking in the voice of a professor, "behold before you an opportunity to prove your skill in the remarkable science of 'eyeology.' I have a piece of paper and a pencil in my hand. As you gaze into each pair of eyes, you are to reveal that person's ident.i.ty. I will write the names down as you tell them to me. When you have gone through the whole list, the curtain shall be lifted. Then we shall discover how many of your friends you know by the character of their eyes. After Ruth has finished, anyone else who wishes may try his or her skill."

"My dear Mrs. Cartwright," said Ruth, laughing and peering in front of her, "I tell you, right now, that I shall not guess a single name correctly. To tell the truth, I never saw any of these eyes before. It's horrid to have them all staring and blinking at me. I am frightened at them all! Besides, I can't see. May I have a candle and hold it up in front of each person as I pa.s.s along?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Cartwright; "only kindly keep at a safe distance. We don't want to burn up any of our ghosts."

Ruth started down the line. She had the privilege of staring as long and as hard as she liked into each pair of eyes.

The company was strangely silent. They were really interested in the idea, and knew that any talking would spoil the whole experiment.

"I've mixed the babies up, Ruth," said Mrs. Cartwright, "so you needn't think you can guess anyone by his choice of a next-door neighbor. No social preferences have been allowed in this game."

Ruth tried the first pair of eyes. She looked at them intently. Then she turned round to Mrs. Cartwright. "I am sure I never saw those eyes before. You have introduced some stranger since I left the porch."

"There is not a person here whom you do not know well," Mrs. Cartwright a.s.sured her. "Don't try to slip out of your task."

Ruth kept staring. The eyes in front of her drooped, and soft, curling lashes for an instant swept over them. A little wistful look lay in the depths of them, when the lids lifted. "Why, it's Molliekins! How absurd of me not to know her! I was about to guess Ralph!"

Mistress Ruth must have guessed wrongly next time, for there was a burst of laughter, afterwards, that made the white sheets shake.

"Be quiet," warned Mrs. Cartwright sternly.

So Ruth pa.s.sed on down the line. There were about twenty people in the game, but Ruth knew all of them very well. Sometimes her guesses were right, sometimes they were wrong. Once or twice she had to confess herself beaten, and "gave up" with a shake of her head at Mrs.

Cartwright.

Ruth had nearly finished her task. Only a few more pairs of eyes remained to be investigated.

"Well, I am nearly through," she said gayly. "If anyone thinks I have had an easy time of it, he has only to take my place and try the next turn. No more mistakes now, for Ruth Stuart! Who is my next victim?"

Ruth held her candle above her head and looked up.

Gleaming at her through the darkness lit by the flare from her candle-light was a pair of eyes that were strangely familiar.

Ruth stared at them. They belonged to none of the friends she knew-yet, somewhere, she had seen them before.

Ruth looked and looked. The eyes s.h.i.+fted and narrowed. Ruth still held her candle aloft; but she had forgotten where she was. Where had she seen those eyes before?

"Look straight ahead of you," said Mrs. Cartwright to the gleaming eyes, "how can Ruth guess when your eyes are closed?" But again the eyes s.h.i.+fted.

"I am going to find out to whom those eyes belong, if I stay here all night," said Ruth, speaking to herself.

The eyes glinted, narrowed and shone like two fine points of steel.

"Oh!" said Ruth. She staggered a little and the candle shook in her hand. "I thought I knew those eyes, but I don't. I must be mistaken. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cartwright," said Ruth, "but I am tired. I don't think I can go on. Will some one take my place?"

Ruth's expression was so peculiar that Mrs. Cartwright came up to her.

"You foolish child!" she said, putting her hand on Ruth's shoulder, "I believe this game is making you nervous. Who is it sitting there with the eyes that Ruth remembers, yet will not reveal to us?" she called.

"Harry Townsend, Harry Townsend!" the people sitting closest to him answered.

"Harry," said Mrs. Cartwright, "you come and take Ruth's place. Let's see if you are a better 'eyeologist' than she is."

Before Harry Townsend had slipped out from under his strange covering, Ruth turned to Mrs. Cartwright. "Excuse me for a minute," she begged.

"My labors as an optician have used me up. I will be back in a little while."

Barbara crept from under the sheet, and, without speaking to anyone, ran after Ruth, who was on her way upstairs to Mrs. Cartwright's boudoir.

"Ruth, dear, what on earth has happened to you? Are you sick?" asked Barbara.

"Oh, I am worse than sick, Bab!" muttered Ruth, with a shudder. "Don't ask me to talk until we get upstairs."