Phyllis shook her head and snapped her history book open and shut.
“No, I’m half afraid to.”
“We will keep our fingers crossed. She may come around to your way of thinking yet,” Valerie said cheerfully. “So long, Phyl!”
Phyllis watched Valerie’s form retreating along the stone flagged path to the Wallace house, a house where Valerie was free to come and go as she pleased, where she was assured of warmth and love and laughter. Phyllis went more slowly on her way. All that was waiting for her in the house at the top of the hill was a cold bedroom where she would study her next day’s lessons in silence and then eat a silent dinner sitting opposite her Aunt. After that, there was nothing for her but to retreat to her own room with her books and to bed, to wait for the next morning when she could again escape from the cold, old house.
After dinner Gale stepped out onto the porch and viewed the sky overhead. It was studded with stars and high in the East rode a giant yellow moon. She looked out over the lawn to where deep shadows lay thick beneath the trees and about the shrubs. There was a decided tinge of early winter in the air. The football game this afternoon had been another hint that winter was officially on the way. It had been an exciting game! A thrill every minute. She lived over again the exciting last touchdown.
Gale had been leaning idly against the white porch pillar but suddenly she straightened up with a jerk. A shadow had moved stealthily from the street through the gateway to a position under the linden tree. Gale could not see the identity of the intruder but it was someone she did not expect, of that she was sure. None of her friends would come silently, like a thief. Any of the Adventure Girls or the boys with whom they associated always descended much like pirates besieging a treasure ship, with whoops and plenty of noise. Not so this person, whoever he was.
Gale considered shouting for her father, when she remembered he had gone out to see a client. Her father conducted a successful law practice and often made trips out at night to interview his clients.
Gale decided to stay where she was and watch. She did not want to alarm her mother, and besides the person had not done anything yet. Perhaps it was just someone who had made a mistake in the houses. It might be a respectable visitor of one of the neighbors.
She had held her position for about five minutes, her eyes never wavering from the spot under the linden tree where the shadow had stopped, when she saw a white hand beckoning to her. Should she go down and see who it was? Very clearly she remembered the night when she and Bruce had almost lost Brent Stockton’s plans for his airplane engine. Suppose this was another thief who had learned that she knew where the pilot was! What would he do?