Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society Page 11

  CHAPTER XI

  THE BROWN LIMOUSINE

  The second evening of the society Kermess passed without unusual eventand proved very successful in attracting throngs of fashionable peopleto participate in its pleasures.

  Louise and her cousins were at their stations early, and the secondinstallment of Uncle John's flowers was even more splendid and profusethan the first. It was not at all difficult to make sales, and thelittle money drawer began to bulge with its generous receipts.

  Many a gracious smile or nod or word was bestowed upon Miss Merrick bythe society folk; for these people had had time to consider theaccusation against her implied by Diana Von Taer's manner when thepearls were discovered in the empty flower vase. Being rather impartialjudges--for Diana was not a popular favorite with her set--they decidedit was absurd to suppose a niece of wealthy old John Merrick woulddescend to stealing any one's jewelry. Miss Merrick might have anythingher heart desired with-out pausing to count the cost, and moreover shewas credited with sufficient common sense to realize that the Von Taerheirlooms might easily be recognized anywhere. So a little gossipconcerning the queer incident had turned the tide of opinion in Louise'sfavor, and as she was a recent _debutante_ with a charming personalityall vied to assure her she was held blameless.

  A vast coterie of the select hovered about the flower booth all theevening, and the cousins joyously realized they had scored one of thedistinct successes of the Kermess. Arthur could not get very close toLouise this evening; but he enjoyed her popularity and from his modestretirement was able to exchange glances with her at intervals, and theseglances assured him he was seldom absent from her thoughts.

  Aside from this, he had the pleasure of glowering ferociously uponCharlie Mershone, who, failing to obtain recognition from Miss Merrick,devoted himself to his cousin Diana, or at least lounged nonchalantly inthe neighborhood of the Hindoo Booth. Mershone was very quiet. Therewas a speculative look upon his features that denoted an undercurrentof thought.

  Diana's face was as expressionless as ever. She well knew her action ofthe previous evening had severed the cordial relations formerly existingbetween her and Mr. Merrick's nieces, and determined to avoid thepossibility of a snub by keeping aloof from them. She greeted whoeverapproached her station in her usual gracious and cultured manner, andrefrained from even glancing toward Louise.

  Hedrik Von Taer appeared for an hour this evening. He quietly expressedhis satisfaction at the complete arrangements of the Kermess, chatted amoment with his daughter, and then innocently marched over to the flowerbooth and made a liberal purchase from each of the three girls.Evidently the old gentleman had no inkling of the incident of theprevious evening, or that Diana was not still on good terms with theyoung ladies she had personally introduced to society. His action amusedmany who noted it, and Louise blushing but thoroughly self-possessed,exchanged her greetings with Diana's father and thanked him heartilyfor his purchase. Mr. Von Taer stared stonily at Charlie Mershone, butdid not speak to him.

  Going out he met John Merrick, and the two men engaged in conversationmost cordially.

  "You did the trick all right, Von Taer," said the little millionaire,"and I'm much obliged, as you may suppose. You're not ashamed of mythree nieces, I take it?"

  "Your nieces, Mr. Merrick, are very charming young women," was thedignified reply. "They will grace any station in life to which they maybe called."

  When the evening's entertainment came to an end Arthur Weldon tookLouise home in his new brown limousine, leaving Patsy and her father,Uncle John and Beth to comfortably fill the Doyle motor car. Now thatthe engagement of the young people had been announced and accepted bytheir friends, it seemed very natural for them to prefer their ownsociety.

  "What do you think of it, Uncle John, anyhow?" asked Patsy, as theyrode home. "It's all right, dear," he announced, with a sigh. "I hateto see my girls take the matrimonial dive, but I guess they've got tocome to it, sooner or later."

  "Later, for me," laughed Patsy.

  "As for young Weldon," continued Mr. Merrick, reflectively, "he has somemighty good points, as I found out long ago. Also he has some pointsthat need filing down. But I guess he'll average up with most young men,and Louise seems to like him. So let's try to encourage 'em to be happy;eh, my dears?"

  "Louise," said Beth, slowly, "is no more perfect than Arthur. They bothhave faults which time may eradicate, and as at present they are notdisposed to be hypercritical they ought to get along nicely together."

  "If 't was me," said the Major, oracularly, "I'd never marry Weldon."

  "He won't propose to you, Daddy dear," returned Patsy, mischievously;"he prefers Louise."

  "I decided long ago," said Uncle John, "that I'd never be allowed topick out the husbands for my three girls. Husbands are a matter oftaste, I guess, and a girl ought to know what sort she wants. If shedon't, and makes a mistake, that's _her_ look-out. So you can all choosefor yourselves, when the time comes, and I'll stand by you, my dears,through thick and thin. If the husband won't play fair, you can alwaysbet your Uncle John will." "Oh, we know, that," said Patsy, simply;and Beth added: "Of course, Uncle, dear."

  Thursday evening, the third and last of the series, was after all thebanner night of the great Kermess. All the world of society was presentand such wares as remained unsold in the booths were quickly auctionedoff by several fashionable gentlemen with a talent for such brigandage.Then, the national dances and songs having been given and receivedenthusiastically, a grand ball wound up the occasion in the merriestpossible way.

  Charlie Mershone was much in evidence this evening, as he had beenbefore; but he took no active part in the proceedings and refrained fromdancing, his pet amusement. Diana observed that he made frequent tripsdownstairs, perhaps to the hotel offices. No one paid any attention tohis movements, except his cousin, and Miss Von Taer, watching himintently, decided that underneath his calm exterior lurked a great dealof suppressed excitement.

  At last the crowd began to disperse. Uncle John and the Major took Bethand Patsy away early, as soon as their booth was closed; but Louisestayed for a final waltz or two with Arthur. She soon found, however,that the evening's work and excitement had tired her, and asked to betaken home.

  "I'll go and get the limousine around," said Arthur. "That new chauffeuris a stupid fellow. By the time you've managed in this jam to get yourwraps I shall be ready. Come down in the elevator and I'll meet you atthe Thirty-second street entrance."

  As he reached the street a man--an ordinary servant, to judge from hisappearance--ran into him full tilt, and when they recoiled from theimpact the fellow with a muttered curse raised his fist and struck youngWeldon a powerful blow. Reeling backward, a natural anger seized Arthur,who was inclined to be hot-headed, and he also struck out with hisfists, never pausing to consider that the more dignified act would be tocall the police.

  The little spurt of fistcuffs was brief, but it gave Mershone, who stoodin the shadow of the door-way near by, time to whisper to a policeofficer, who promptly seized the disputants and held them both in afirm grip.

  "What's all this?" he demanded, sternly.

  "That drunken loafer assaulted me without cause" gasped Arthur, panting.

  "It's a lie!" retorted the man, calmly; "he struck me first."

  "Well, I arrest you both," said the officer.

  "Arrest!" cried Arthur, indignantly; "why, confound it, man, I'm--"

  "No talk!" was the stern command. "Come along and keep quiet."

  As if the whole affair had been premeditated and prearranged a patrolwagon at that instant backed to the curb and in spite of Arthur Weldon'sloud protests he was thrust inside with his assailant and at once drivenaway at a rapid gait.

  At the same moment a brown limousine drew up quietly before theentrance.

  Louise, appearing in the doorway in her opera cloak, stood hesitating onthe steps, peering into the street for Arthur. A man in liveryapproached her.

  "This way, please, Miss Merrick," h
e said. "Mr. Weldon begs you to beseated in the limousine. He will join you in a moment."

  With this he led the way to the car and held the door open, while thegirl, having no suspicion, entered and sank back wearily upon the seat.Then the door abruptly slammed, and the man in livery leaped to the seatbeside the chauffeur and with a jerk the car darted away.

  So sudden and astounding was this _denouement_ that Louise did not evenscream. Indeed, for the moment her wits were dazed.

  And now Charlie Mershone stepped from his hiding place and with asatirical smile entered the vestibule and looked at his watch. He foundhe had time to show himself again at the Kermess, for a few moments,before driving to the ferry to catch the train for East Orange.

  Some one touched him on the arm.

  "Very pretty, sir, and quite cleverly done," remarked a quiet voice.

  Mershone started and glared at the speaker, a slender, unassuming man indark clothes.

  "What do you mean, fellow?"

  "I've been watching the comedy, sir, and I saw you were the star actor,although you took care to keep hidden in the wings. That bruiser whoraised the row took his arrest very easily; I suppose you've arranged topay his fine, and he isn't worried. But the gentleman surely was in hardluck pounded one minute and pinched the next. You arranged it verycleverly, indeed."

  Charlie was relieved that no mention was made of the abduction ofLouise. Had that incident escaped notice? He gave the man another sharplook and turned away; but the gentle touch again restrained him.

  "Not yet, please, Mr. Mershone."

  "Who are you?" asked the other, scowling.

  "The house detective. It's my business to watch things. So I noticed youtalking to the police officer; I also noticed the patrol wagon standingon the opposite side of the street for nearly an hour--my report on thatwill amuse them at headquarters, won't it? And I noticed you nod to thebruiser, just as your victim came out."

  "Let go of my arm, sir!"

  "Do you prefer handcuffs? I arrest you. We'll run over to the stationand explain things."

  "Do you know who I am?"

  "Perfectly, Mr. Mershone. I believe I ran you in for less than this,some two years ago. You gave the name of Ryder, then. Better takeanother, to-night."

  "If you're the house detective, why do you mix up in this affair?"enquired Mershone, his anxiety showing in his tone.

  "Your victim was a guest of the house."

  "Not at all. He was merely attending the Kermess."

  "That makes him our guest, sir. Are you ready?"

  Mershone glanced around and then lowered his voice.

  "It's all a little joke, my dear fellow," said he, "and you are liableto spoil everything with your bungling. Here," drawing; a roll of billsfrom his pocket, "don't let us waste any more time. I'm busy."

  The man chuckled and waved aside the bribe.

  "You certainly are, sir; you're _very_ busy, just now! But I think thesergeant over at the station will give you some leisure. And listen, Mr.Mershone: I've got it in for that policeman you fixed; he's a cheekyindividual and a new man. I'm inclined to think this night's work willcost him his position. And the patrol, which I never can get when I wantit, seems under your direct management. These things have got to beexplained, and I need your help. Ready, sir?"

  Mershone looked grave, but he was not wholly checkmated. Thank heaventhe bungling detective had missed the departure of Louise altogether.Charlie's arrest at this critical juncture was most unfortunate, butneed not prove disastrous to his cleverly-laid plot. He decided it wouldbe best to go quietly with the "plain-clothes man."

  Weldon had become nearly frantic in his demands to be released whenMershone was ushered into the station. He started at seeing his enemyand began to fear a thousand terrible, indefinite things, knowing howunscrupulous Mershone was. But the Waldorf detective, who seemedfriendly with the police sergeant, made a clear, brief statement of thefacts he had observed. Mershone denied the accusation; the bruiserdenied it; the policeman and the driver of the patrol wagon likewisestolidly denied it. Indeed, they had quite another story to tell.

  But the sergeant acted on his own judgment. He locked up Mershone,refusing bail. He suspended the policeman and the driver, pendinginvestigation. Then he released Arthur Weldon on his own recognisance,the young man promising to call and testify when required.

  The house detective and Arthur started back to the Waldorf together.

  "Did you notice a young lady come to the entrance, soon after I wasdriven away?" he asked, anxiously.

  "A lady in a rose-colored opera cloak, sir?"

  "Yes! yes!"

  "Why, she got into a brown limousine and rode away." Arthur gave asigh of relief.

  "Thank goodness that chauffeur had a grain of sense," said he. "Iwouldn't have given him credit for it. Anyway, I'm glad Miss Merrick issafe."

  "Huh!" grunted the detective, stopping short. "I begin to see this thingin its true light. How stupid we've been!"

  "In what way?" enquired Arthur, uneasily.

  "Why did Mershone get you arrested, just at that moment?"

  "Because he hated me, I suppose."

  "Tell me, could he have any object in spiriting away that young lady--inabducting her?" asked the detective.

  "Could he?" cried Arthur, terrified and trembling. "He had every objectknown to villainy. Come to the hotel! Let's hurry, man--let's fly!"