PAGE 9
The Purple Parasol
by
“We will have room for you on our break,” she said simply. Her eyes met his bravely and then wavered. Rossiter’s heart gave a mighty leap.
“Permit me to second Miss Dering’s invitation,” said Dudley, coming over. The suggestion of a frown on his face made Rossiter only too eager to accept the unexpected invitation. “My aunt and Miss Crozier are outside with the coachman. You can have your luggage sent over in the stage. It is fourteen miles by road, so we should be under way, Mr. Rollins.”
As Rossiter followed them across the platform he was saying to himself:
“Well, the game’s on. Here’s where I begin to earn my salary. I’ll hang out my sign when I get back to New York: ‘Police Spying. Satisfaction guaranteed. References given.’ Hang it all, I hate to do this to her. She’s an awfully good sort, and–and–But I don’t like this damned Havens!”
Almost before he knew it he was being presented to two handsome, fashionably dressed young women who sat together in the rear seat of the big mountain break.
“Every cloud has its silver lining,” Miss Dering was saying. “Let me present you to Mr. Dudley’s aunt, Mrs. Van Haltford, and to Miss Crozier, Mr. Rollins.”
In a perfect maze of emotions, he found himself bowing before the two ladies, who smiled distantly and uncertainly. Dudley’s aunt? That dashing young creature his aunt? Rossiter was staggered by the boldness of the claim. He could scarce restrain the scornful, brutal laugh of derision at this ridiculous play upon his credulity. To his secret satisfaction he discovered that the entire party seemed nervous and ill at ease. There was a trace of confusion in their behavior. He heard Miss Dering explain that he was to accompany the party and he saw the poorly concealed look of disapproval and polite inquiry that went between the two ladies and Dudley. There was nothing for it, however, now that Miss Dering had committed herself, and he was advised to look to his luggage without delay.
He hurried into the station to arrange for the transportation of his trunk by stage, all the while smiling maliciously in his sleeve. Looking surreptitiously from a window he saw the quartet, all of them now on the break, arguing earnestly over–him, he was sure. Miss Dering was plaintively facing the displeasure of the trio. The coachman’s averted face wore a half-grin. The discussion ended abruptly as Rossiter reappeared, but there was a coldness in the air that did not fail to impress him as portentous.
“I’m the elephant on their hands–the proverbial hot coal,” he thought wickedly. “Well, they’ve got to bear it even if they can’t grin.” Then aloud cheerily: “All aboard! We’re off!” He took his seat beside the driver. The events of the ensuing week are best chronicled by the reproduction of Rossiter’s own diary or report, with liberties in the shape of an author’s comments.
THURSDAY.
“Settled comfortably in Eagle Nest House. Devilish rugged and out-of-the-way place. Mrs. Van Haltford is called Aunt Josephine. She and Miss Debby Crozier have rooms on the third floor. Mine is next to theirs, Havens’s is next to mine, and Mrs. Wharton has two rooms beyond his. We are not unlike a big family party. They’re rather nice to me. I go walking with Aunt Josephine. I don’t understand why I’m sandwiched in between Havens and Aunt Josephine. Otherwise the arrangement is neat. There is a veranda outside our windows. We sit upon it. Aunt Josephine is a great bluff, but she’s clever. She’s never napping. I’ve tried to pump her. Miss Crozier is harmless. She doesn’t care. Havens never takes his eyes off Mrs. W. when they are together. She looks at him a good bit, too. They don’t pay much attention to me. Aunt Josephine’s husband is very old and very busy. He can’t take vacations. Everybody went to bed early to-night. No evidence to-day.”