Part 26 (1/2)

”See!” he exclaimed. ”We are almost home. We have talked 's.h.i.+ps and sealing-wax' for hours.”

”It hasn't seemed for hours,” retorted Stephen, springing to collect his luggage.

”Nor to me, either.”

”Some time I'd like to hear about the ocean liners,” ventured the boy.

”You must get Mr. Ackerman to tell you that story when he comes to visit us Thanksgiving,” was the reply, ”if he _does_ come. That part of it seems to be up to you and d.i.c.k.”

”I mean to do my part to get him here,” Steve announced. ”I hope d.i.c.k will plug, too.”

”I rather think you can trust him for that,” was the quiet answer.

CHAPTER XVI

AGAIN THE MAGIC DOOR OPENS

A change of trains and a brief hour's journey brought the travelers safely to Coventry where Havens met them with the automobile.

”This will be our last ride this fall,” observed Mr. Tolman, as he loitered on the platform while the luggage was being lifted into the car. ”We shall have to put the motor up in a day or two. It will not need much of an overhauling in the way of repairs this season, I guess, for it is comparatively new and should be in pretty good condition.

There may be a few slight things necessary but nothing much. Isn't that so, Havens?”

”It is badly scratched, sir.”

”Scratched!”

”Yes, sir--both inside and out. I wonder you haven't noticed it. Still you wouldn't unless you got it in just the right light. I did not myself at first. There are terrible scratches everywhere. You would think ten men had climbed all over it. Look!”

”Oh, it can't be so bad as all that,” laughed Mr. Tolman good-humoredly, evidently not taking the chauffeur's comment seriously. ”The car was new in the spring and we have not given it very hard wear. What little luggage we have carried has been carefully put in; I have seen to that myself. Only a short time ago I thought how splendidly fresh the varnish looked. In fact, I examined it just before you were ill. It can't have become very much defaced since then for we have not had the car out of the garage except for one short excursion.”

Havens' brow darkened into a puzzled frown.

”I don't understand it at all, sir,” he replied. ”I could swear the scratches were not there when I went away. If you didn't tell me yourself the car hadn't been used much I'd stake my oath it had had a great deal of knocking about while I was gone. Look here, Mr. Tolman!

Look at that, and that, and that--great digs in the paint as if people with boots on had climbed over the sides.”

Mr. Tolman looked and so, with a sinking heart, did Stephen.

”Mercy on us! I never noticed all this before!” cried Mr. Tolman, in consternation. ”What in the world--” he stopped as if he could find no words to voice his amazement. ”Look at this!” He placed a finger on a broad, clearly defined line that extended from the top of the tonneau to the bottom. ”You would think somebody had dug his heels in here and then slid down until he reached the ground! And this! What on earth has happened to the thing, Havens? It looks as if it had been used for a gymnasium.”

Hot and cold by turns, Steve listened. The marks to which his father pointed told a truthful story. Somebody had braced his heels against the side and then slid to the ground; it was Bud Taylor. And that other jagged line indicated where Tim Barclay had scrambled over the edge and made his hurried exit. The history of the whole miserable adventure was etched in the varnish as vividly as if it had been traced there in words. Stephen gasped with horror when he saw how plainly the entire story stood out in the sunlight of the November day. Why, the most stupid person alive could read it! Every moment he expected that his father or Havens would wheel on him and ask accusingly:

”When was it you carried all those boys to Torrington?”

He could hear his heart thumping inside him and feel the beat of the blood that scorched his cheek. He had not pictured a dilemma like this.

The affair had gone off so smoothly that he had flattered himself every possibility of discovery was past, and in this comforting knowledge he had basked with serenity. And now, behold, here he was at the brink of peril, and just when he had had such a glorious holiday, too!