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Dorothy Dale At Glenwood School

<h3> CHAPTER V </h3> <h4> THE POLICE PATROL </h4> For some moments neither girl spoke: Tavia stood out in the road like an officer, while Dorothy did not lift her head from her attitude of prayer. Suddenly Dorothy, in a frenzy of fear, rushed out to where Tavia stood, and threw her arms around her. "Tavia," she exclaimed, "I must go to them. I cannot stand another moment like this—I am simply choking. Come: See, they have not been able to manage him. He is in the car yet. Oh, do let us go!" and the look on the terrified girl's face so frightened Tavia she forgot to watch, forgot everything but Dorothy—something would surely happen to her if that anxiety was not soon relieved. But to go to the boys! Might not that make matters worse? "Dorothy, darling," began Tavia, "don't be so frightened. Perhaps they are just talking pleasantly to him—" "Then I must hear them. I must know what it is all about. Do come!" and she tried to drag Tavia from the spot to which she seemed riveted. "If you would only wait here while I go down first, and then if it is all right, that is, if the boys want us to come—" "No, no," cried Dorothy. "I must go at once! See! Oh, Nat is coming this way—" "Yes, here comes Nat. It will be all right now," and Tavia was soothing Dorothy as if she were a baby—patting her, smoothing her hair, and even pressing her lips to her cheek. In truth Dorothy appeared as weak as a baby, and seemed to require that help which a loving human hand may impart to a nervous body, at once the sense of protection and the assurance of sympathy. "Ned is starting up the machine," exclaimed Tavia. "Oh, I know. He is going to give the man a ride." Little dreaming how truly she spoke, for indeed Ned was going to give the strange man a stranger ride, Tavia showed Dorothy that she believed everything was all right now, and then Nat was there—they could call to him. Yes, he was whistling lightly. How silly they were to have been frightened! "What is it?" demanded Dorothy, as soon as her cousin could hear her voice. "I guess it was—" "Nat! Nat!" screamed Tavia, at the same time running to him and whispering a word in his ear. "There, now, Dorothy. Didn't I tell you. Only a poor farmer. Where did he say he lived, Nat?" "Tavia, you told Nat not to tell me—" "Ha! ha! ha!" roared Nat. "Well, of all things. Not to tell you. Well I guess I will. Sit right down here, my little Coz, and I shall be delighted to tell you all I know," and at this he drew the almost exhausted girl down to a tree stump, to "tell her." But Tavia kept close at the other side of the young man—she could nudge him if—well, of course, just to make the story funny—perhaps! "Wanted a ride, that was all," declared Nat. "See, here they are. We must not notice them as they pass!" "Why?" asked Dorothy. But in answer Nat squeezed her hand so hard she knew he meant for her to keep quiet. The car flew past. Ned never glanced at those by the roadside. And how strange he looked— "Oh, Nat!" almost screamed Dorothy. "That man had on striped clothes—like—" "Queer kind of sweater. They come in all sorts of stripes," her cousin interrupted, with a side glance at Tavia. "But his leg was out of the car, and that was—" "Also striped. Yes, I noticed his suit was not exactly of the newest fall pattern, but there is no telling where a farmer may pick up his duds. Like as not his wife made the trousers out of some good strong bed ticking." "Nat, you are trying to deceive me. That man is an escaped convict, and Ned is riding alone with him—Oh, what will become of us?" and tears welled to Dorothy's eyes. That outlet of the overstrained—a good cry—had come to her relief. "Oh, there!" begged Nat. "Don't take on so. It will be all right. Ned will be back for us before you have your eyes dry," and he kissed his little cousin affectionately. "And it was that awful man out of jail! I knew it! I could tell him before he ever got to the car! I can always tell when he is coming. Oh! suppose he should kill Ned—" and she burst into a fresh flood of hysterical tears. Meanwhile Tavia had not yet heard what had happened to induce Ned to take the convict away—for Anderson it was. Nat had told her it was that awful rascal when she cautioned him to hide it from Dorothy. Certainly it was all very strange, and very dangerous. "I suppose we have to sit here and wait for Ned to come back," ventured Tavia. "Or else walk to meet him," suggested Nat, who was really anxious to do something beside sitting there listening to Dorothy cry. "Dry your tears, Dorothy," he said kindly, "and we will walk along. It is pleasant and cool, and it will do us good to have a walk." "Can't we get back to Dalton this way?" asked Dorothy. "Isn't this the road we came out?" "It may be the road but it is some miles from town," answered Nat. "Listen! What was that?" "The gong of an ambulance, it sounded like," exclaimed Tavia. "Hark!" At that moment a wagon turned a corner and came towards them. It was a black wagon—yes, it did look like an ambulance. "Oh," shrieked Dorothy. "What ever has happened now?" "Why, it's only the 'police patrol," answered Nat, trying to be indifferent about the matter. "Probably they're—" "Hello there, young fellow!" called a man from the wagon. "Have you seen a fellow in stripes about these woods?" The speaker was addressing Nat, and he wore the uniform of a police officer. "Yes, we have," answered the young man. "And I can tell you all about him." The wagon came to a full stop now, and the officer stepped down from the seat at front, while simultaneously, two other officers dropped from the step at the back, so that our friends suddenly became surrounded by bluecoats. "There," said Tavia aside to Dorothy. "You are not afraid now, are you? We have enough of protection at last." "Which way did he go?" asked the officer. "Straight for Danvers," answered Nat, "and in my brother's custody. We had to go to a shop to get a piece of the machine fixed and left these two young ladies alone here. When we returned the fellow was in our auto—he had taken possession of it, and refused to give it up. We did everything to induce him, but he absolutely refused to leave, and demanded a ride, so, recognizing him from the description as the fellow who had escaped from Danvers, my brother decided there was nothing to do but give him a ride back to the jail." "Well, he's a plucky lad, I must say," declared the officer spokesman. "That fellow is dangerous, he was just about to be committed to the asylum. He's a lunatic, and should never have been in jail—" "Oh," cried Dorothy. "If he should turn on Ned—" "Not the least danger as long as the lad humors him," said the officer. "We saw that," said Nat, "and my brother knows how to manage him, I guess." "And you are stalled now, can't get home until the machine comes back?" asked one of the blue-coats, looking at Dorothy's pale face. "I might walk, but the girls never could," answered Nat. "Then suppose you go with us?" suggested the officer. "If the young ladies would not mind riding in a patrol." "Oh, not at all," declared Tavia, but Dorothy looked askance at the wagon, in which so many criminals had ridden from their freedom. "The best thing we can do," said Nat, realizing how much better any kind of ride would be than the uncertainty of waiting there as night came on. "Jump in then," invited the officer. "We must be moving. I don't know what the captain will think of our prisoner coming up in an automobile, and the wagon bringing in this party." Up the back step sprang Tavia, while Dorothy followed with less alacrity—it did not seem pleasant to get in the big ugly black wagon; a girl of Dorothy's nature feels the mere touch of things tainted by real crime. "All right?" asked Nat, as he stepped in last. "Yes," answered Dorothy, timidly, taking her place on the leather seat. "Isn't it too jolly!" burst out Tavia. "I bet on the horse every time. Of course the auto is delightful, but when night cometh on,—Get a horse! Get a horse!" "The horse is a good old stand-by," admitted Nat. "But isn't this great, though! Riding into Dalton in the hurry-up wagon!" and he joined Tavia in the laugh over their new adventure. "But we must watch for Ned," spoke Dorothy, "He might go back to that lonely place." "I've told the officer at front to look out for him," remarked Nat. "He has to come this way." "And to think," whispered Dorothy, "that the man was crazy, and the officer said he should never have been in jail!" "Don't you worry about him," Nat told her. "That fellow has the faculty of making himself comfortable any place. Look at his nerve in the Fire-Bird." "We were lucky to have gotten away in time," reflected Tavia. "We would scarcely have known how to entertain a lunatic." "Oh, don't talk so!" Dorothy checked her. "I am so nervous and so anxious about Ned." "Now, Dorothy," declared Nat, "Ned is certainly all right, and will be the first person to meet us when we alight from this chariot. Thunder, but this is fun!" The officers outside were talking of the strange capture. A reward had been offered for the taking of the lunatic, for he had been at large for some days, and now the bluecoats had just missed the capture. While at the blacksmith's Ned and Nat had heard of the escape of Anderson and so recognized him at once when they encountered him in their car. "I told you we would have three adventures," Tavia reminded Dorothy. "And we are not home yet," added Nat, laughing. The wagon rattled on, now and then clanging its gong to warn mere "people," not to interfere with the law—to keep out of its way. "We are in some village," said Dorothy, looking out the little glass window at front, and seeing street lights along the way. Presently a gang of urchins discovered the patrol wagon and as the horses slowed up around a corner the youngsters tried to get on the steps to catch a glimpse of the "prisoners." "Look at that!" exclaimed Tavia, laughing. "Wonder what they think we were taken up for?" "Oh, I feel so queer about it," said Dorothy, plainly discomfited. "I wish we could get out." At that moment the wagon sprang forward, the horses having been urged on, and before Nat had a chance to reply to Dorothy's wish they were rattling on, at greater speed than had been attained during the entire trip. To reach Danvers jail the route was through Dalton, and now Tavia could see Dalton houses, Dalton churches, and there was the postoffice block! Surely the officer would not let them out right in the center! "Here you are!" called the man at front, while the wagon stopped and Nat saw they were in front of the bank, the most conspicuous spot in all Dalton. There was nothing for them to do but to alight of course, and, by the time the officers had vacated the back step, and Nat put his foot on it, a crowd of people surrounded the wagon—waiting to see the "prisoners" get out. "Girls!" exclaimed the surprised crowd in chorus. "Tavia Travers!" declared one voice, as Tavia showed her head. "And if that isn't Dorothy Dale! Well, they're nice girls!" came another sneer, "talk about being good and always preaching." This, was almost in Dorothy's ear. "I guess they had better begin at home!" Tears came to Dorothy's eyes. If her father were only there to take her hand—could that be little Joe? "Dorothy! Dorothy!" called a young voice. "Come this way! We have been down to the telegraph office," went on Joe, for Dorothy was beside him now, "and we never had any idea you were in that wagon. Ned just got back. He was going out again to look for you." "Is Ned all right?" Dorothy managed to say, while Nat was thanking the officers who were in haste to be on their way again. "Oh, he's all right, but I guess he had an awful time. He was too hurried to tell us about it, for he said he had to go back—There's his car now! Ned! Ned!" shouted Joe at the top of his voice, while Nat, seeing his brother at the same moment, gave his familiar whistle. Tavia had not yet been able to extricate herself from the crowd. Many of the boys recognized her, and she was plied with all kinds of curious questions. What had happened? Had they been arrested for speeding? (Ned's presence in the automobile prompting this query), or was someone hurt? In fact, there seemed to be no limit to the quality or quantity of questions that were being poured into Tavia's ears. But Tavia was not the sort of girl to make explanations—under the circumstances. If friends, or those who appeared to be friends, could so easily lose all sympathy, and become so annoyingly curious about her and Dorothy, why then, she declared to herself (and also made it plain to some of the boys who were at liberty to tell the others), what really did happen "was none of their business." But unfortunately there were, in that crowd, those too willing to draw their own conclusions, especially as regarded Dorothy Dale, a girl of whom so many others had been jealous. Dorothy was aware of some of the remarks made, but she little realized what a part the patrol wagon ride was to play in her life, nor how a girl who had observed her in the vehicle was to use that knowledge against her. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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