CHAPTER X
THE SEARCH
“We’re in for it,” whispered Tweedle-dee to Tweedle-dum, as the two comical figures drew unobtrusively into the rear of the group of girls now removing their masks under Mrs. Bonnell’s half-amused, half-serious eyes, for she began to suspect that some sort of innocent prank had been played which, like many another would have harmlessly played itself out if let alone. She had always been opposed to the rigorous ban placed upon boys and their visits to Leslie Manor by Miss Woodhull, believing and justifiably too, that such arbitrary rules only led to a livelier desire in the girls to meet said boys by hook or by crook.
“Hush!” whispered Tweedle-dum “and come behind this rubber plant. Now get down on your hands and knees and follow me.”
Tweedle-dee promptly obeyed orders and the next moment was in front of the spiral stairway which led to the gallery.
“Make yourself as small as possible and crawl on your stomach up this staircase. At the other end of the gallery is a door leading into our wing. I can’t tell you another thing. Just use your wits,” and Tweedle-dum flitted back to be swallowed up in the crowd of girls who, once more restored to an equable frame of mind were laughing merrily, everyone asking everyone else if she knew who the Jack o’ Lantern really was. This very fact was sufficient reassurance for Mrs. Bonnell. She knew girls better than Miss Woodhull knew them in spite of having known nothing else for more than forty years, but she resolved then and there not to ask too many questions, which fact made two girls her slaves for life. The discipline department was not her province nor was it one which anything could have induced her to undertake. If Will-o’-the-Wisp was aware of the name of her partner in the quartette hornpipe, or Tweedle-dum knew Tweedle-dee’s surname Miss Woodhull was the one to find it out, not she. So smiling upon the group before her she asked:
“Are you now all visible to the naked eye and all accounted for? If so, let us to the feast, for time is speeding.” No urging was needed and lots were promptly drawn for the privilege of cutting the fate cake. Mrs. Bonnell had not considered it necessary to mention the fact that she had ordered Aunt Sally, the cook, to bake one for the occasion, and while good fellowship and hilarity reign below let us follow two less fortunate mortals whom the witches seemed to have marked for their sport that night.
Agreeable with Miss Woodhull’s orders, Miss Baylis, who was only too delighted to shine so advantageously in her superior’s eyes, had scuttled away, issuing as she went, the order to close all outer doors and guard them, allowing no one to pass through. Guileless souls both hers and Miss Woodhull’s, though another adjective might possibly be more apt. The house had a few windows as well as doors.
Meeting Miss Stetson on the stairs she found in her a militant coadjutor, and wireless could not have flashed the orders more quickly. Servants went a-running until one might have suspected the presence of a criminal in Leslie Manor rather than a mere boy.
Meanwhile, what of Jack o’ Lantern and Tweedle-dee? Jack, it must be admitted, had the greater advantage in having made a quicker get-away, but Leslie Manor had many bewildering turns and corners, and when one has been an inmate of a house less than—well, we won’t specify the length of time—one cannot be blamed for growing confused. Jack had made for the very door Tweedle-dum had advised Tweedle-dee to make for and darted through it muttering as he paused a second to listen: “Gee, I wish I wasn’t so confoundedly long legged!”