Every Man for Himself | Page 8

broke all bounds. A very musical laugh it was, very pleasant to hear.
"Oh, please forgive me," she gasped finally. "It is very rude of me, I know; but--you said you were the Honorable Milt's nephew--" Again she laughed in spite of herself.
"You know my uncle?" he asked eagerly.
"I read the papers," she said evasively. "Everybody knows a public man."
"I'm laying the cards face up, madam," repeated Kendrick solemnly. "My name is Kendrick--Philip Kendrick. I was on my way home when you--well, shanghaied me. Won't you meet me half way by equal frankness, so that we may avoid--well, any unpleasantness?"
"You mean--?" She had stopped laughing.
"That unless you answer legitimate questions I shall be forced to hand you over to the police."
"I warn you that you would regret it," she said quietly.
"Very much," agreed Kendrick readily. "I would be sorry to cause you any inconvenience; but surely you see how impossible it is for me to avoid being inquisitive under the circumstances. Are you going to be frank with me or not?"
She did not answer him immediately and he smiled to himself as he paddled in silence. For, if the truth must be told, Mr. Philip Kendrick was enjoying himself immensely. He had only the sound of her voice from which to draw deductions; but the cultured tones of it and the lilt of her low laughter bespoke an education and refinement with which he failed to reconcile the idea that she was a lady burglar. Yet----
He stopped paddling to listen intently. Several times now he had thought he heard a sound off in the darkness behind him. It came again--a slight hollow sound, as of a paddle scraping against a canoe. They were being followed. Had the girl heard it, too? He waited for the wail of the fog-horn to die away--and found her speaking.
"--frank with you, Mr. Kendrick," she was saying. "The circumstances are less extraordinary than they appear to you. My--husband and I were at a party at a friend's house on the Island. We paddled over in a canoe and Joe went ahead of me to locate it. In the dark I must have missed the spot where he was waiting for me and when you came along so silently and so close to the bank I naturally thought it was Joe. Ridiculously simple, you see."
"You have forgotten the launch," prompted Kendrick severely.
"I know nothing about the launch," she denied with resentment. "When I heard those people coming I thought it was some of the guests from the party who had said they would race us home. Will you please paddle on, Mr. Kendrick. It is damp and chilly in this fog and I am naturally in a hurry to get home."
He laughed with skepticism, but plied his paddle again. He was not as concerned about the launch as he pretended, of course; at the worst it probably meant that Stinson had been entertaining some of his friends on the sly. He had no intention of handing his mysterious passenger to the police. But was he to let her laugh at him and disappear unchallenged into the fog out of which she had come?
Phil Kendrick's experience with the opposite sex was very limited, he had to confess. He had been too completely absorbed in athletics to afford girls more than passing attention. Those of his social set--those he had met--had failed to impress him. One or two of them were attractive enough in a general way, he realized; some were amusing to him and some very very tedious. It was a new experience to find himself actually interested in a girl--or rather, her voice! He wished he could get a look at her till he remembered the poor showing he would make with his blackened eye. Then he was thankful for the darkness.
Phil planned to land her at the Queen City Yacht Club at the foot of York St., or at the Canoe Club; either would provide an easy landing. They must be well across the bay now; but it was hard to say just where they would come in. Ordinarily he could have steered by the illuminated dial of the City Hall clock and the spire of St. James'; but the fog obliterated all landmarks.
They were both very damp from exposure to the mist, but it is doubtful if either of them was aware of it. He made several further attempts to discover her identity without avail; at every turn she evaded him skillfully and it was beginning to look as if she would step ashore and vanish into the fog without leaving behind her a single clue for him to follow. This illusiveness was an added spur to his desire to know this girl. He did not believe that she was a married woman at all.