THE WILY STRANGER
"What is this anyway?" asked Bess. "Greenland or the North Pole?"
"Well, it's Siberia at the very least," laughed Nan, as, wrapped in outdoor coats and furs, the girls entered the recitation room the second morning after the explosion.
School without heat in weather that came close to the zero mark was not very enticing, and it was glad news to all the girls when it was announced that, owing to the injury to the steam plant, which was greater than was at first thought, the school term would end nearly a week ahead of time pending extensive repairs. Those who were going home were directed to begin to pack at once, and those who were not would be provided with quarters in the village.
After hearing this announcement the girls flew upstairs on winged feet.
"An extra week at home! What happiness!" exclaimed Bess, whirling Nan around until they both dropped breathless on the window seat.
"And think of Grace with another week at Palm Beach to look forward to!" cried Nan.
"What luck for her!" said Bess enviously, as she began taking her things from the dresser drawer.
Soon the last trunk was locked and strapped and they were ready to depart.
"Let's run to town for a last visit to Mrs. Bragley," proposed Nan.
Bess gladly acquiesced, and the two girls were off. They were delighted to find Mrs. Bragley sitting up and able to get around a little with a cane. She greeted them gratefully and was profuse in her thanks for all the care they had shown her. And she was intensely interested in their story of the explosion at the school.
"And now," said Nan, after they had chatted for a while, "how about those papers? We are going home sooner than we thought, and if you will give them to me I will show them to Grace Mason's father. He is a very able lawyer and will get to the bottom of this orange grove if any one can."
"That will be fine," was the gratified reply. "The papers are right here. I have been looking them over. Take them if you wish, dear."
Mrs. Bragley took them from the table and handed them to Nan, and the latter tucked them safely away in her bag.
"I may be carrying a fortune away in this bag," she said jokingly, as she snapped the catch and rose to go.
"I'm afraid they're not worth the paper they're printed on," said the woman dubiously.
"Hope on, hope ever," quoted Bess gaily, as, with a last wave of the hand, she followed Nan out of the door.
They were almost to the school when Bess suddenly asked:
"Do you know that man, Nan? He looks as though he were going to speak to us."
Nan looked up just as a tall thin man approached them. He lifted his hat and said:
"I beg pardon, young ladies, but could you inform me where the Widow Bragley lives?"
Nan pointed out the cottage and the man thanked her and passed on.
"What a peculiar way he had of talking," said Bess, as they resumed their walk.
"I noticed that he talked like a Southerner," replied Nan. "I wonder what business he can have with Mrs. Bragley."
"Hard to tell," said Bess. "I only hope it isn't a bill collector to bother the poor thing." And then the schoolgirls passed on their way.
The stranger soon reached the cottage of Mrs. Bragley. He scanned it carefully and noted its poverty. A contented smile stole over his face as he said to himself:
"I imagine there won't be any trouble in getting what I came for. A little money here will go a long way."
He knocked on the door and Mrs. Ellis opened it.
"Does Mrs. Sarah Bragley live here?" the stranger inquired with an ingratiating smile, which, however, sat rather badly on his somewhat sinister countenance.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Ellis. "But she's not very well and has gone to lie down. Is it anything I can do for you?"
"No, thank you," replied the stranger. "My errand with her is a personal one. I've come all the way from the South to see her on a matter of private business."
"If that's the case, I think she'll see you," replied the nurse, ushering him in and giving him a seat.
She excused herself and went into the bedroom, and in a few minutes Mrs. Bragley appeared, a little curious and considerably flustered by the announcement of a visitor from such a distance.
"My name is Thompson," the visitor said, as he rose and bowed. "I came from Florida to see you on a business matter. I'm sorry to learn that you are not well, and I'd put the matter off, only that I have arrangements made to get back home as soon as possible."
"From Florida?" repeated the old woman. "It can't be that you've come to see me about that orange grove property there that my husband put all our money into before he died?"
"If you refer to the property at Sunny Slopes," returned the visitor, "you are right. It is just that that I came to see you about."
"Laws me!" ejaculated the widow in some excitement. "And here it was only a little while ago I was saying that I never expected to hear from it. I wrote and wrote and never heard a word from it. I began to think," she went on a little apologetically, "that there might be some fraud or something of that kind about it."
"Oh, nothing like that," the visitor said impressively. "Mr. Pacomb is the soul of honor. I have never known him to do anything that wasn't straight and aboveboard."
"I'm very glad to hear that," said the simple-hearted old woman. "He wrote such beautiful letters to us when he was asking us to put our money into the property that I thought he must be a nice man. I'm very sorry that I ever had an unkind thought about him. I'm so glad to know that things are all right. I need the money so badly. And my poor husband always thought there would be a whole lot of money come from it."
The stranger looked a little embarrassed.
"Quite right, quite right," he said. "There ought to have been a big profit from it. Everybody thought so, and nobody felt more sure of it than Mr. Pacomb himself. He thought so well of it that he put every cent of his own money into it."
"Then he's made a fortune in it, too!" exclaimed the old woman, beaming on her visitor.
The stranger coughed.
"No," he said, "that's the unfortunate thing about it. You see, Mrs. Bragley, the thing didn't turn out as we had hoped and expected. The land was right in the orange belt, and we had every reason to believe that it would yield big results. But for some reason or other it didn't. The ground couldn't have been adapted to it. You never can tell about orange groves."
The poor woman's face fell.
"Then," she said quaveringly, "all my money is gone!"
"Oh, no, not all," the stranger hastened to say. "There is still a little money for you, if you want to sell what interest you have in the property. Of course the property has proved practically worthless. But the man who has a country estate bordering on the property is willing to pay the company a small sum just to round out his estate, and your interest in it we calculate would be about two hundred dollars. In fact," he went on with a burst of generosity, and at the same time taking a roll of bills from his pocket, "Mr. Pacomb would be willing to give you two hundred dollars to settle the matter up at once."
He began to count out the bills, as if the matter had been agreed upon. It was a long time since Mrs. Bragley had seen so much money, and in her straitened circumstances two hundred dollars seemed like a fortune. The visitor had counted on the influence exerted by the sight of the money, and he was not disappointed.
"Well," said Mrs. Bragley, "I suppose it's the best thing I can do, since you say that the land isn't any good for oranges."
"We'll consider it settled then," the man observed, trying to conceal his satisfaction. "Now if you'll get me the papers I'll hand you the money."
A look of dismay came into the woman's face.
"The—the papers!" she stammered. "Why, I haven't got them!"
"You haven't got them?" the man snapped in wonder. "Where are they then?"
"I gave them to a young lady not more than an hour ago," replied Mrs. Bragley. "She had just gone a little before you came."
"Why did you give them to her?" the man asked.
"Some friends of hers are going to Florida and they were going to look up the matter," replied the old lady. "It seems that the father of one of the girls is a lawyer and——"
"A lawyer!" interrupted the man, a look of fear coming into his face. Then by a great effort he regained his self-control.
"Well, Mrs. Bragley," he said, "it's for you to do what you choose in this matter. It's too bad for you to lose this two hundred dollars when you might just as well have it as not. Suppose I see this young lady and tell her that you want the papers back."
"I wish you would," replied the old lady. Then she gave the man Nan's name and told him where she thought he could find her. He scribbled the name and address in a notebook, and a little later hurried away.
"If I don't find that Nan Sherwood and get the papers away from her my name isn't Jacob Pacomb," he muttered to himself.
With all speed he hurried to the Hall, only to learn that Nan had left for the depot. Then he rushed to the station.
"Sorry, but the train left quarter of an hour ago," declared the station master in reply to his question. "There won't be another train for three hours."
On gaining this information the face of Jacob Pacomb became a study. Savagely he bit off the end of a cigar, lit it, and began to puff away furiously.
"That young woman from the school may be a sharp one," he murmured as he strode up and down the little depot platform. "I'll have to use either force or diplomacy in getting those papers from her. I mustn't let her think they are valuable. I wonder what I can do next? It's too bad I promised to go to Chicago to attend that sale. But I can't afford to miss that." He mused for a moment. "Wonder if I couldn't get Davis and Jensen to do this job for me? They are hanging around doing nothing and would do almost anything for the price of a meal. Yes, I'll see Davis and Jensen and set them on the girl's track."
In the meantime Nan and Bess were being whirled at the rate of fifty miles an hour toward the home where love and open arms awaited them.
Their parents had, of course, been apprised of their coming, and the welcome was the royal one that always greeted them after their long absences from home. Nothing was too good for them.
Several days passed quickly, and then came great news. The first item was a notification from Dr. Prescott that since the steam plant had required far more extensive repairs than at first had seemed necessary, the reopening would be deferred for several weeks beyond the usual time. And following this closely came a letter to each of the girls from Grace Mason. They must go with her to Palm Beach. The "must" was underscored. She would take no denial. They would have such a perfectly gorgeous time if they could only come along. Please, please, please! They simply must, and that was all there was about it.
Nan and Bess were filled with delight and excitement. But they had to reckon with their parents, who were reluctant to spare their girls after having them with them for so short a time. But the girls coaxed and wheedled, as girls will, and the parents finally yielded, as parents will. In the next few days the matter was settled and hurried preparations were begun.
More than once they had to pinch themselves to make sure they were not dreaming. Palm Beach! Land of summer, land of flowers, land of beauty! And they—Nan Sherwood and Bess Harley—were actually going to dwell for a time in that earthly Paradise!