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“Then let’s talk of something pleasant – very pleasant. About Marta, Jo’s Marta. I met them together yesterday. I had my answer to the question I asked you.”
“They are very happy,” she said wistfully. “I am so glad.”
“Pen, why did you make me think, that first day I met you, that it was you Jo met and loved in Chicago?”
“Did I make you think so? You assumed I was the one and I – well, I wouldn’t have presumed to dispute the assertion of anyone in a sheriff line. It’s safer not.”
“You asked me not to be hard on little Marta. Who could be? Not even the man you seem to think me to be. I’ll do all in my power to help them to build a little home in the hills. And she does love him.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “She does.”
He looked at her with a little ache in his throat. The moonlight was full on her partly averted face; her profile, clear-cut, delicate, was like a medallion.
“Pen – could you love me?”
The words seemed wrung from him in spite of an apparent determination not to utter them.
She turned and looked straight into his eyes.
“That isn’t what you should ask me, unless, you – ”
“I do,” he said passionately.
“You didn’t – want to.”
“No; frankly, I didn’t want to; but I did – I do.”
“Why?” she asked curiously, watching the fine little lines about his eyes deepen.
“I’ve been fighting it since I met you – because – ”
“Because I am a thief,” she finished unconcernedly. “Do you remember that night when we were here alone – you started to tell me you loved me, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted slowly.
“Then you remembered what I was, and your love wasn’t big enough to let you finish.”
“That wasn’t the reason I hesitated,” he said quickly, “then or – other times. The reason I didn’t yield to my desire was because I knew it wouldn’t be fair to Jo. Remember, I thought until Marta came that you were his.”
She looked her discomfiture.
“I forgot that,” she said in a low sympathetic tone.
“No;” he resumed meditatively. “You don’t know what a man’s love is.”
“A man’s love,” she replied, a slight catch in her voice, “is infinitesimal compared to a woman’s.”
“Let me show you, Pen. You shall love me! We’ll go far away from here – ”
“You’re ashamed of me! Jo wouldn’t ask Marta to go far away. Your’s is a little love – a love that doesn’t dare venture on an uncharted sea.”
“Pen,” he said tensely, “I tell you that I love you! Don’t you understand?”
He put his arm about her – bent down.
There was a quiet reproach in her star-like eyes as she drew away.
“Pen, will you be my wife?”
She put her hand to her forehead with an odd little motion. Her paleness became a pallor.
“You ask me that – you would – ”
“Yes, I would. I did fight it. I didn’t really know you until to-night. You’ve been unreadable. Now I feel you are your real self. Not the daredevil who defied me and mocked me. Not the little meek mouse on the hearth. I love the woman you are to-night.”
“Am I like her – the best woman in the world?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he cried triumphantly. “And you will grow more and more like her – the type of woman I want you to be. Don’t you care for me – a little, Pen?”
Again his arm was about her. She turned to meet his eyes, deep-set – intense – burning.
“Kurt – I – ”
A little wave of doubt, of contrition, stole over her.
“I don’t love you,” she said uncomfortably.
“Don’t you want to love me, Pen?”
“No!”
She rose impulsively, and there were tears in her eyes, though there was a half wistful smile on her lips, as she passed him swiftly and fled toward the stairway.
He followed.
“You mustn’t leave me, this way. Pen – ”
For a shining second she leaned against him.
“I must. I can’t tell you now. I’ll think it over. You surely want me to be honest with you!”
In the upper hall she passed the open door of Hebler’s room. There were no inner lights, but the shafts of a moonbeam shone straight upon an article lying on a small table near the door, finding response in glimmering gleams.
She stopped, electrified.
“Oh!”
Fascinated by the sparkle, she lingered for a moment, and then went quickly to her room and straight to the window that looked on the moonlit hills. She stayed there awhile, her hands clenched, thinking intensely and rapidly – of Larry soaring like an eagle, proud and secure in his conquering of the air – of Marta’s sudden severance from the habit of a lifetime – of Jo’s faith in her – of Kurt wrestling with his conflict between love and conventions. “Does he care, really, as much as he thinks he does,” she wondered, “or is it just the lure of – propinquity? How shall I find out? Oh, there is too much on my mind! How careless and how like Hebby to leave his priceless ring about. What would he think if he knew the thief was next door to it?”
She left the window and went to the door.
The ring still sent forth shafts of sparkles.
A figure came stealthily out into the hall, paused near the open door. A hand reached quickly out and closed over the ring.
CHAPTER XII
“Have we a new maid, Kurt?” asked Kingdon at the breakfast table next morning. “I had a glimpse of a pretty little girl talking to Agatha.”
“Mrs. Kingdon sent her here to do the sewing and look after the children,” explained Kurt.
“And she’s got a funny name,” said Francis. “Her name is Bobbie Burr.”
Hebler’s fork fell with a clatter.
“Bobbie Burr!” he exclaimed in amazement.
“Bobbie Burr!” echoed Kingdon.
“Where is she? Let me see her at once. She’s the very person I am looking for!”
“I’ll go and get her,” offered Billy, running from the room.
He returned in a few moments followed by Marta.
“Oh, you aren’t Bobbie Burr!” said Hebler, visibly disappointed.
“No, sir,” said Marta. “I just took the name because I liked it. My name is really Marta Sills.”
“But it won’t be that long,” reminded Betty. “You’re going to have another name soon. Jo Gary told me so.”
“Oh, ho!” laughed Kingdon comprehendingly, while Marta fled in confusion.
“Jo’s going to take her with him to Westcott’s this morning,” said Francis. “They’re going to drive over in the buckboard. I think they are engaged.”
“He hasn’t given her a diamond ring,” said Betty. “Every girl who is engaged wears a diamond ring. Doris told me so.”
“Speaking of diamond rings,” said Hebler, as they all rose from the table, “reminds me that I very carelessly left mine on a table yesterday and I forgot to put it away, or to even see if it were there this morning.”
“It will be all right,” assured Kingdon. “Every one in the hill country is honest.”
“Still you’d better put it away,” cautioned Kurt anxiously.
“All right,” said Hebler, leaving the room.
“Don’t forget we want an early start for town,” Kingdon called after him. “I’ll go out and look over my car.”
Kurt followed him, but lingered on the veranda to light his pipe. While he stood there, Jo and Marta drove past at a smart pace. A few moments later Hebler came to him in great consternation.
“Walters, that ring I was speaking of is gone! I’ve made a thorough search for it.”
When he had assured Kurt that there could be no mistake as to having left it on his table before he started for Westcott’s, the foreman said earnestly:
“I am quite sure that I can secure your ring for you, Mr. Hebler. I should like to settle this matter quietly, though; so please say nothing about it to anyone until I have investigated.”
“Certainly,” agreed Hebler. “I’ll go on to town with Kingdon now, and you can be looking about for it.”
Kurt hastened upstairs and knocked at Pen’s door.
“Hebler has missed his ring – a very valuable diamond, he tells me,” he said abruptly, as she came out.
“Oh!” she gasped, turning pale and trembling slightly.
“He left it on his table near the door and just thought of looking for it. I told him not to mention it for the present and I’d deliver the goods. Marta has gone away with Jo; evidently she intends to skip. She’ll not get away with this. I am going after them in the car. I shall turn her over to the authorities. You can pack her things and send them after her.”
“Oh, wait!” she cried, as he started to go down stairs. “It wasn’t Marta. It was I.”
“What!” he cried incredulously. “You!”
“Yes.”
“When did you take it?”
“On my way to bed last night after I left you. His door was open – the ring on a table near by – in easy reach. He shouldn’t have left anything like that around loose.”
“I never dreamed of your taking it,” he said bitterly. “I thought you had reformed.”
She laughed, a little reckless laugh that had a sound like silver bells.
“I don’t like that ring either. It’s gaudy.”
He looked at her with a new thought and hope.
“Are you a kleptomaniac?”
“I should think not! I never take anything unless it is of some value or use.”
“Didn’t it occur to you that you might be suspected and caught with the goods?”
“No; I thought I knew Hebby and that he was too much of a good fellow to report a loss at first blink. Sort of banal, you know. You don’t know much of human nature to suppose a thief could undergo such a sudden reformation. There are no modern miracles like that. Marta is the only one I knew who could change. But she isn’t a born thief. I really was trying to be good; but I suppose I will slip and fall countless times – like a drunkard.”
“This is the first time since you came here?”
“Absolutely; but to be honest, thieves don’t always lie – I’ve not been so strongly tempted before.”
“And you could do it then – right after – ”
“After you had done me the great and regretted honor? Well, I didn’t yield all at once. I walked right past it with the ‘Get thee behind me’ pose and closed my door and went to the window and – looked up at the hills and then – something stronger than all my resolutions carried me back to look at it once more. It was all off.”
Anger and something else battled in his face.
“Why,” she asked curiously, “did you suspect Marta instead of me?”
“I don’t know,” he said spiritlessly.
“You see Marta has an incentive to keep her straight – an incentive that I lack.”
He winced.
“Have you,” she asked cynically, “always been so straight that you don’t know what temptation means? Have you never wanted anything so much that you – ”
“That I wanted to steal? No; not even to steal your affections when I thought they belonged to Jo. I will spare you exposure. When I return the ring to Hebler I will tell him it was found on the floor by a servant.”
“Thank you,” she said meekly. “If he knew I were here, he’d know who the ‘servant’ was. What do you propose to do with me now? Return the goods to Bender, or squeal on me to Hebby?”
“I don’t know until I have talked it over with Mrs. Kingdon.”
“That is very considerate and fair in you,” she commended. “Some way I feel confident she will think I should have another chance. You owe me something. ‘Kind Kurt,’” she continued lightly, with a return of the flippancy that had so jarred him on their first meeting, “suppose I had been weak enough to accept your proposal last night? I knew my lapses too well and was too considerate of your happiness to say ‘yes.’ Suppose I had. Would your sense of honor have been equal to the sacrifice of keeping faith with me? No; I see by your face it would not have been. So you see your love – your man’s love, isn’t great enough for even a thief to consider.”
“Give me the ring,” he said coldly.
“No; I prefer to return it myself. I’ll take my chances with Hebby. Even he isn’t as merciless as you. And as I said, his claim is prior to yours. I never expected to take refuge with Hebby! Where is he now?”
“He has gone to the garage. Wait! You shall not go.”
He put out a detaining arm, under which she ducked and fled nimbly down the stairs and out to the door. She heard him pursuing, but she jumped on Francis’ wheel which stood near and was soon coasting down the driveway to the garage.
“Hebby! Oh – oh, Hebby!” she called to the man sauntering at some distance ahead of her.
“The thief!” he exclaimed as she came up to him and dismounted. “So, at last I’ve found you!”
“Found me! Well, I like that! Here I come chasing after you and doing the finding myself. Really lost your ring this time, Hebby? Didn’t seem like your ‘code’ to mention your loss to so new an acquaintance. Sort of a breach, wasn’t it?”
He flushed shamefacedly, but his discomfiture, short-lived, was succeeded by a broad grin.
“Then it was you who took it! That tall, solemn guy seemed to think he could recover it, but I am more delighted at recovering you than a hundred rings.”
“May I keep it, Hebby?”
“You always said you detested that ring – that it was very parvenu and so forth. But what are you doing up here, and how did you get in with these folks?”
“Can’t a thief break in anywhere? It’s far more surprising how you got in.”
“You’ll not escape me again. You’ll go with me when I leave.”
“Thank you, Hebby. I’m through here. Will you do me a favor?”
“You don’t deserve favors.”
“You never did favor the deserving, you know. Will you tell the ‘tall, solemn guy’ that you have your ring all right? I’ll see you get it. I haven’t it on me. But this is the real favor. No one here, except Mrs. Kingdon and one of the men on the place, knows very much about my chequered career and they only know me by my baptismal name.”
“Which I’m not sure that I know, Meg. You have so many names.”
“I took my own as a perfect disguise. It’s Penelope Lamont.”
“Fine name. I’ll make a note of it for future use. I’ll keep your secret if you’ll not try to run away again. You haven’t told me how you came here.”
“I was – apprehended. But I am not on a thief’s errand. It’s for a reason apart from my other life. You know, Hebby, thieves do have a code of honor.”
“You are the one and only thief! I take off my hat to you. Say, how did that tall guy know you had it?”
“He didn’t. He suspected someone else. You can have it back, Hebby. It’s so garish it puts my eyes out. I didn’t want it. I just wanted to steal it.”
“Ruling passion, Meg.”
“No; you’re way off. Here comes the ‘solemn guy.’ Tell him I found it and returned it to you.”
Just then Kingdon drove around the curve.
“Glad to see you again, Miss Pen. I thought you had forsaken us. I see you’ve made Mr. Hebler’s acquaintance. But I must take him away from you for a while.”
As Hebler got into the car, Kurt came up.
“Oh, Mr. Walters, I’m happy to say I have my ring. Meg – Miss Lamont saw it and took it for a joke on me. Sorry I mentioned it.”
A little wave of remorse swept over Pen for a second as she turned to Kurt and saw the look in his eyes when the two men had driven off.
“He seemed to have an air of proprietorship,” he said jealously. “Has he really a legal right to take you away?”
“Looks that way. Mrs. Kingdon thought so. I never could get legal stuff through my head. It was for an offense committed long ago, but not outlawed. There is something I want to say to you. Last night you asked me to marry you. Don’t look so afraid of the cars! I am not going to sue you for breach of promise. I wouldn’t marry the grandest man living unless he loved me supremely – enough, at least, to overlook the stealing of a ring. Kurt,” she added after a pause, “did it occur to you I might have had a reason for stealing that ring? To put you to the test – your love, I mean – before answering you?”
“Pen – ”
“Never mind, now. Jo wouldn’t have gone back on me if he had been my lover. There’s the ideal lover for you. There’s one thing I didn’t try to steal up here – Jo from Marta. Well, it’s all over now, and I am going back – back with Hebby.”
“You are not going away with that man,” he said hotly. “Mrs. Kingdon arrives to-day. She will find a way out.”
“I think not. You don’t know Hebby. I think I want to go with him.”
“You see,” he said looking at her wistfully, “you didn’t love me – ”
“Then we’re quits,” she laughed, jumping quickly on the wheel and speeding toward the house.
“The beans are sure spilled now,” she thought, when she had gained her room. “I’ve outwitted Kurt, and I must give Hebby the same treatment, but how can I make my getaway? Hebby in town – and such a small town. They took the racer. The big car is out of commission. Sandy rode to the corral in Kurt’s shebang. No horse leaves the stables without Kurt’s O. K. Oh, for the wings of a dove! There’s my inspiration! I know some better wings than a dove’s. I’ll telephone Larry and literally fly from here.”
She went into Mrs. Kingdon’s room where there was an extension telephone and called up Larry at the hotel. Fortunately he was within call.
“Want to do something for me Larry, dear? Hebby is here! I’m in a mix-up as I generally am. No way out unless you’ll fly to me up here. I mean it. Inquire the way to Westcott’s ranch – the next beyond Top Hill where I am. Land by a big red-roofed barn – only red roof in vicinity. I’ll be there at three this afternoon, and be yours forever after if you’ll have me. I knew I could count on you. This is really serious, Larry. If you love me, don’t fail me.”
She hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.
“To think of falling back on Larry whom I used to consider a lightweight. He is my last ditch, and then I’m off by the overhill and skyville route. In the meantime I’ll make some manuscript memoirs to leave behind.”
A note to Marta and a shorter one to Jo occupied but a few moments time, but she wrote swiftly and steadily for an hour on a longer one. When she had a bulky package she sealed it and addressed it to Kurt. An explanatory letter to Mrs. Kingdon then followed.
“I’ll have to travel light – a beach comber’s outfit,” she thought as she prepared for departure.
She gave the notes for Jo and Marta to Agatha to be delivered on their return. She had a few moments confidential conversation with Francis, bade the others good-bye and then sped down the road to Westcott’s.
CHAPTER XIII
Agatha came out to the driveway to stop the buckboard and deliver the notes.
Marta read the one handed to her as they drove on to the stables.
“What ’tis, honey,” Jo asked in alarm, as he reined up and turned to her.
There was a wild, distraught look in Marta’s eyes, and her face had suddenly turned very pale.
“Oh, Jo! Pen – ”
“Wait!” he cautioned, as Gene came out of the stable.
“Unhook for me, will you, Gene?” he asked.
“Now, Marta, what is it?” he again asked anxiously as they were walking back to the house.
“Read your letter, Jo, and see what it says.”
He read aloud:
“DEAR JO: Leaving Top Hill forever by the Excelsior Route. Had to. Never go back on Little Marta. Will see you somewhere, sometime. At four this afternoon, come to Westcott’s red-roofed barn and get Francis’ wheel.
“Yours,“PENNY ANTE.”“What has happened to send her off in such skyrocket fashion?” he asked. “What did she say to you?”
“Jo, we must find her at once. Let’s go to Westcott’s the quickest way we can.”
“What is it, Marta?”
“That Mr. Hebler who is visiting here, you know,” said Marta breathlessly. “Well, he missed a diamond ring. He left it on a table near his door – I saw it. When we came back from our walk last night, I went to Miss Lamont’s room. His door was open. A great whopping diamond ring was on the table – and – ”
“Yes, Marta,” he said encouragingly, as she paused.
“When she found it was gone, she told Mr. Walters and Mr. Hebler that she took it, so as to protect me. That’s why she has gone.”
“She’s a trump! Read me her note, Marta.”
“DEAR LITTLE MARTA:
“You must do just as I say. I told Mr. Walters and Mr. Hebler I took the ring. Give it to Mr. Hebler and tell him I left it with you to hand to him. Never do it again, Marta. Jo is worth a whole mine of diamonds. When I am safely and far away, will let you hear from me.
“With Love,“PEN.”“Some girl!” exclaimed Jo. “But she isn’t as keen as I thought, or she’d have known you didn’t take the ring.”
“Jo, do you believe – ”
“Shucks, honey! I know you didn’t. I wouldn’t believe you did if I saw you take it. Here, little girl – ”
He stopped, put his arm around her, lifted the little face and kissed the tears from it.
“What’s matter with you?”
“Jo, I didn’t take it!”
“Don’t I know you didn’t, honey!”
“It’s nice in you to know it, Jo. But – suppose, I had taken it – ”
“I’d have given it back and rustled around till I could have bought you the biggest diamond in Chicago.”
“Who do you suppose did take it, Jo?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he never lost it.”
“Wasn’t it grand in her to take the blame?”
“Yes,” he admitted grudgingly, “but I don’t like her thinking you took it.”
“But, Jo. Of course she would think it was I, and – I remember now – when I saw that diamond I thought how easy it would be for anyone to lift it, and then when I was in her room, I hardly heard a word she said because I was thinking, ‘It’s Jo! It’s Jo’s love that’s made me different,’ and then I got scared thinking that I might want to take it, and how awful it would have been if I had never met you and loved you. I got up and walked right out of the room so I could be alone and think about you. It must have looked queer to her the way I acted – till she found the ring had been taken.”
“I’ll see Kurt,” said Jo, “and tell him about it, and he will find her.”
“What’s that sound?” interrupted Marta, looking about her in a puzzled way. “I’ve heard it before somewhere. Oh, I know! It’s an airship.”
They looked up and, for the moment, lost all interest in things below.
“Holy Smoke!” exclaimed Jo. “First one I ever saw! Gene said there was one in town a few days ago. Look! It’s coming down corkscrew style! It’s going to land there by Westcott’s!”
CHAPTER XIV
Down the road from the corral, Kurt chugged homeward in his crude little car. He had the manner of one whose heart is heavy, but whose resolution was still invincible.
A strange unaccustomed sound, a faint, far-away buzzing made him glance upward. Two sharp winged points were skimming through the air. He felt a thrill – the thrill of the unknown. He knew it must be one of the craft, foreign as yet to the hill country. In the distance he saw it swirl, loop and maneuver, spiral gracefully downward, skim the earth lightly, rise again and then descend from sight hidden by one of the hills.
In a few moments he saw it ascending again. It passed over him – so high up that it seemed but of bird size.
He was startled – lifted momentarily and dazedly from his plodding existence.
He had read of these ships of the air, but their reality had not been borne in on him until now.
He went on to the house. Three children rushed at him with football fury.
“Attaboy!” he cried, catching up Billy. “What is it?”
“Mother is in town with father and Mr. Hebler. Father just telephoned – ”
Kurt had the feeling of something lifted – of help at hand.
“And,” continued Francis placidly, “father said you were to take us to town in the big car and we’ll all have dinner at the hotel and come back together. And he said to bring Aunt Pen. But you can’t now.”
“Run up to her room, Francis, and tell her I want to speak to her.”
“Aunt Pen has gone,” said the boy soberly.
“Gone! When – where?”
“I don’t know. She kissed us good-bye and she gave me a letter to give to you at dinner time.”
“Give it to me now, Francis.”
“No; she said she trusted me, and I told her I wouldn’t give it to you till she said.”
“Come with me, Francis,” said Kurt, drawing him away from the other children. “I want to talk to you as man to man. We must always protect women, you know. Your Aunt Pen went away because she thought it best for her. It isn’t best. Your mother is her best friend, and if she had been here, she wouldn’t have let her go. If I had the letter, you see, I might be able to find where she had gone. Then I could ask her to come back.”
Francis looked up at him oddly and said in his little, old-man fashion:
“Maybe it would be best, but father says that a real man never breaks his word to a woman.”