Partners (28 page)

He lifted frightened eyes to Aunt Ettie, who was all capability now and had bustled into Gillian's bedroom and now returned with Gillian's purse in her hand and a look of awful despair on her pitiful face.

"She didn't take a thing but their coats as far as I can find. She mighta had fifty cents or so in the pocket of her coat, I dunno."

"They had only their coats as far as we can find out. No, not likely any money unless a few cents in a pocket," went on Reuben, talking to the policeman. "All right. I'll meet you at the inlet. I'm starting now. Is there a boat down there? Is it far to swim if there is no other way? Well, what time does the tide turn? I see. Not much time left, is there? Can you come at once? Yes, I'll be there ahead of you. If I'm not in sight, you will see my coat on the beach and you can look for me in the ocean. Good-bye. I'm leaving."

He flung his hat off and the overcoat he had been wearing, caught up a sweater from a chair where Aunt Ettie had placed it, and accepted the paper bag of two hastily prepared sandwiches she had scrambled together and the bottle of cold coffee, the only restorative she could find. Then as he was dashing out to his car, she ran after him with a full bottle of milk and a tin cup.

"Don't worry!" he called to her as he turned his car around and started off at a mighty pace. After that there succeeded a long and trying silence for poor Aunt Ettie, during which she heard over again the crisp sentences in which Reuben had told the facts to the police. He hadn't stopped to see whether the man was fresh or tough or anything. He had just got to the point and told all that was necessary for the finding of the two. Why couldn't she have been like that? Why couldn't she have done something early this morning before they had ever got so far? She could have called the police herself and reported her fears, even if they did laugh at her for being an old granny. What difference did it make whether they thought her foolish or not? Oh, she was getting old and beyond her usefulness. She had no business to be out on her own pretending to take care of people. She ought to be in an old woman's home, being waited on and kept out of harm's way.

Then her imagination began to work again, and she thought what would happen, supposing Reuben got there in time before they drowned and brought them back. She must be ready for anything. She must have hot blankets and plenty of hot water. She must get the beds turned down and have hot food that could be easily eaten.

So, with never a thought for herself that she hadn't eaten anything but cold tea all day since breakfast, she set to work. Hot soup. She would have hot soup. There was meat in the refrigerator that she had intended for dinner that night, but it would make wonderful beef broth, and that was easy to swallow and easy to digest. She would boil some potatoes and carrots and onions, for Reuben loved his soup with vegetables in it, and Reuben would be plenty hungry after traveling all day and maybe half the night before getting back. Celery. He loved celery.

She cut great plates of her nice homemade bread; she got out olives and pickles and a custard pie, in case anybody was well enough and cheery enough to eat dessert of any kind. She filled a pitcher with milk and put a fresh pot of coffee on. And all the time she was doing this the tears were running a steady stream down her face and she looked a hundred years old at least, blaming and vilifying herself for being an old fool who oughtn't to have any responsibilities at all. Then she turned down the beds and put nightclothes on to warm. One would have thought to watch her that Reuben himself was likely to come in from this search a physical wreck, for she prepared for his comfort as well as for the other two.

Down at the police headquarters they were busy as bees, preparing for all sorts of possibilities.

"Guess Sam'll be surprised at what he started," said Tim, the fresh young man who called on Aunt Ettie that morning.

"That so," said James, an older man who hated a lot of excitement and liked to carry it off as if he had it all conquered before you told him about it. "Say, Tim, did ya see anythin' of this girl they tell about when ya went to the house?"

"Naw!" said Tim. "Don'tcha think I'd a told ya ef I had?"

"Well, I seen her once," said a man who usually hung around the firehouse. "I seen her yestiddy mornin' down ta the newsstand buyin' a paper. She's good-lookin' an' I don't mean just some. Had a little kid with her 'bout five years old, I reckon."

"Yep! That's him. I seen 'em, too," said the fire chief.

"Shut up!" called the chief of police. "Get on yer job, can't ya? Jeff, you phone up the Coast Guard an' hev 'em take the boats out. Send one down ta the inlet; we might need 'em. Can't tell. It might be rough out there. Got yer car ready, Tim? Blake got back yet from checkin' them buses an' trains?"

"Yep!" called a sharp-faced man who was pulling a sweater over his head. "Mornin' trains all gone when Sam called there. Nothin' but the noon train up, and the four o'clock ta the city since. I contacted both conductors, and they both swear no such parties boarded their trains. Course they might have gone ta Long Neck and took a bus south, er ta the river end an' took the ferry, but both Hal and Dan say they ain't seen no such parties. Yes, sir, they's bound ta be at the inlet er drowned by this time fer sure."

"Shut up!" said the chief. "Get on yer job! The young fella'll be drowned, too, ef we don't get a hustle on."

Then two cars went thundering off in different directions from police headquarters, and the men around the firehouse settled down in their accustomed chairs and told stories of disasters they had known.

While back at the peaceful little white cottage Aunt Ettie worked frantically to have a good dinner ready, and mourned meanwhile at what had happened, trying her best to think what Gillian would have done and where she could have gone.

 

Gillian had been briskly making her bed that morning when Sam the policeman arrived, and her swift hands paused in smoothing back the sheet to listen, thinking it might be some word from Reuben. Also, ever since she had come away from the uncle she feared so much, she had cultivated the habit of being always on alert. So now as she paused and heard the name of the dreaded uncle, Mason Albee, she was fairly petrified with fear for an instant, and then she was stung into action. Uncle Mason had somehow heard she was in the East, and he was taking all chances to find her. He was keen to ferret out necessary facts always, she knew, and he would not stop until he had got what he wanted. He was almost cruelly persistent.

She recognized that word had been telegraphed to the police in Sandy Haven that he was on his way down there, from the detective who was trying to trace him. They had found which way he was headed. Well, it didn't matter how it had happened. She was only thankful she had a warning. If only Reuben had been there, she wouldn't be so worried; but Reuben hadn't been sure when he could return, and she could not wait for him. She must get Noel into safety at once. Uncle Mason might arrive at any moment. She mustn't even wait to talk to Aunt Ettie or to write a note or pack anything. She could take their heavy sweaters, in case they had to stay out late and it turned cold.

All this flashed in her mind in an instant. She seized her sweater, remembering her little purse was in the pocket, and took Noel's sweater from the hook in the closet, all in one motion. She slid noiselessly out the door and into the kitchen as soon as she heard the policeman step toward the door.

On the kitchen table lay a small pasteboard box of crackers. She picked them up as she went by and slid out the back door to Noel, who was building sand cities a little way from the house.

"Come quick, Noel," she said, running silently to him and touching him on the shoulder. "Hurry, dear! Don't talk, just come as quietly as you can. We'll run a race down to the beach. There's a reason!"

That was a phrase that had a meaning for them both, for often Gillian had been obliged to leave him without explanations for a time, and so he arose wonderingly and followed her, taking her hand and running with all his might.

At first they were not thinking where they were going. Just to get out of sight from the cottage was Gillian's first objective. They hurried on toward the sand dunes, where she knew they would be comparatively hidden behind the big hillocks or dunes covered with tall grass.

They came at last to these dunes and dropped into temporary shelter, till they got breath to speak.

"What's the matter, Gillian?" whispered Noel, watching her worried face.

"Uncle Mason," she panted. "He's traced us here, it seems. At least, the policeman came to tell Aunt Ettie he was likely to come and she must let them know."

"But Reuben won't let Uncle Mason get me, will he?"

"No, of course not; but Reuben isn't here, dear, and we've got to stay hidden till Uncle Mason is gone."

"But how will we know when he is gone? Will we have to stay here till Reuben comes back and comes to find us and tell us?"

"Oh, I don't know yet. I've got to think about it. You see, we don't know when Reuben will come back, and it might be several days."

"Oh!" He was thoughtful for several minutes, and then he said: "But won't Mrs. Aunt Ettie be scared, Gillian? Did you tell her you were coming?"

"No, I didn't have time. The policeman hadn't gone yet, and Uncle Mason might have come in any minute. I thought we ought to get out of sight."

There was a long, still time when they could only hear the ocean lapping on the beach, the wind waving the grasses about their heads as they lay nestled in the sand. Then Noel whispered again: "Gillian, how did Uncle Mason find out where we are?"

"I don't know," said the sister sadly. "I think perhaps he knew the city where Father's friend lived, the one who died just after he recommended me to work in my office. And he has just taken a chance coming to find out where we are. It must be that there is still some money left from our father's fortune, and he knows I'll soon be of age. He may have been getting some all the time and not giving us any. And now perhaps he wants me to sign it all over to him."

"You're not going to do that, are you, Gillian?" asked the boy anxiously.

"No, of course not," said the girl wearily. "But I don't want to face him until I know more about things. Reuben has got a lawyer to look after it and find out if we have anything at all. It may be Uncle Mason just told us a lie about our money and has been using it all the time. It seems as if it must be something about money, or he would not bother to hunt for us. But we can't do anything about it alone. We've got to wait somewhere till Reuben gets home."

"But won't Aunt Ettie be terribly scared about us?"

"Yes, I'm afraid she will, but I don't know what I can do about it now. I do not dare go back in the daytime. Uncle Mason might be watching somewhere. Perhaps when it gets dark, we could go near enough to see in when the lamps are lighted, and if there is nobody there, we might slip in and tell Aunt Ettie. But we've got to have a better place than this to hide. There comes some people now. Are they men or women?"

"They are ladies and little girls in bathing suits."

"Well, put your head down as if you were asleep, and when they are out of sight, we'll go somewhere else."

"Awright!" said the boy, and down went his head to the sand. Presently he spoke softly: "Gillian, where will we get something to eat?"

"I brought some crackers. Are you hungry already?"

"No, only just a little, but I can wait. Say, Gillian, I know a place where we could hide. Reuben showed it to me one day when he brought me out to walk. It is at the inlet. He said it was a nice quiet place where many people didn't come."

"Where is it? Are you sure you can find it?"

"Oh, yes, it is away down that way, almost to that other lighthouse. Don't you know the revolving light Reuben showed us when we were out the other night? Maybe that would be a good place if we have to stay late. It wouldn't be so dark. And I would like to watch the light."

Dear little fellow! He was getting a bit of fun out of even their troubles!

"Well," said Gillian with a rueful smile, "after the people are gone, we might walk that way and see how it is."

But there were more and more people coming out to swim, and Gillian got worried and decided to make their way among the sand dunes. It wasn't easy walking, but soon they got beyond the groups of people and hurried down to the smoother beach, walking very fast and finally running to get as far away from Sandy Haven as they could.

But at last they rounded a curve in the shore, and there was the lighthouse, standing tall against the sky. It seemed most impressive, and Noel stopped and gazed in great admiration. Suddenly he said: "Gillian, I'm most terribly hungry. Can I have just one little cracker now?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Suppose we sit down behind this old wreck of a boat, and we shall be hidden."

So they crept behind a small fishing boat, stranded and bleached in the weather, with broken mast and a look as if life for it were over. They had three crackers apiece.

"I wish I had a little drink of milk," said Noel with a sigh.

"Yes, that would be nice. But perhaps there will be a way to get one before too long. I have my little purse in my sweater pocket. There was some change in that. But we'll have to wait for dark I think, dear. Can you wait and not be too uncomfortable?"

Noel gave a long deep sigh and said: "Yes, Gillian." And then a little later he spoke again: "Gillian, don't you think we might ask God to send our Reuben right away to find us? It's going to be a long afternoon, I'm afraid."

Gillian choked back the tears that were in her throat and tried to hide her sorrowfulness with a smile.

"Yes, dear," she said, and so Noel bowed his curly head and prayed his direct little petition.

"Dear heavenly Father, won't You please send our Reuben home to help us, and won't You please show us what to do? If You don't want Reuben to come, won't You please come Yourself and take care of us, and don't let Uncle Mason ever get us again? For Christ's sake we ask it, amen."