The Danger Mark | Page 5

Thing--likes it or not."
The Thing was the Half Moon Trust Company.
Geraldine glanced back at the portrait over the divan:
"Do you know," she ventured, "that I believe mother would have let us
have fun."
"I'll bet father would, too," said Scott. "Sometimes I feel like kicking
over everything in the house."
"So do I and I generally do it," observed Geraldine, lifting a slim,
graceful leg and sending a sofa-cushion flying.
When they had kicked all the cushions from the sofas and divans, Scott
suggested that they go out and help Schmitt, the gardener, who, at that
moment, came into view on the lawn, followed by Olsen wheeling a
barrowful of seedlings in wooden trays.

So the children descended to the main hall and marched through it,
defying Lang, the second man, refusing hats and overshoes; and
presently were digging blissfully in a flower-bed under the delighted
directions of Schmitt.
"What are these things, anyway?" demanded Scott, ramming down the
moist earth around a fragile rootlet from which trailed a green leaf or
two.
"Dot vas a verpena, sir," explained the old gardener. "Now you shall
vatch him grow."
The boy remained squatting for several minutes, staring hard at the
seedling.
"I can't see it grow," he said to his sister, "and I'm not going to sit here
all day waiting. Come on!" And he gave her a fraternal slap.
Geraldine wiped her hands on her knickerbockers and started after him;
and away they raced around the house, past the fountains, under trees
by the coach-house, across paths and lawns and flower-beds, tearing
about like a pair of demented kittens. They frisked, climbed trees,
chased each other, wrestled, clutched, tumbled, got mad, made up, and
finally, removing shoes and stockings, began a game of leapfrog.
Horror-stricken nurses arrived bearing dry towels and footgear, and
were received with fury and a volley of last year's horse-chestnuts. And
when the enemy had been handsomely repulsed, the children started on
a tour of exploration, picking their way with tender, naked feet to the
northern hedge.
Here Geraldine mounted on Scott's shoulders and drew herself up to the
iron railing which ran along the top of the granite-capped wall between
hedge and street; and Scott followed her, both pockets stuffed with
chestnuts which he had prudently gathered in the shrubbery.
In the street below there were few passers-by. Each individual wayfarer,
however, received careful attention, Scott having divided the chestnuts,

and the aim of both children being excellent.
They had been awaiting a new victim for some time, when suddenly
Geraldine pinched her brother with eager satisfaction:
"Oh, Scott! there comes that boy I told you about!"
"What boy?"
"The one who asked me if I was too rich and proud to play with him.
And that must be his sister; they look alike."
"All right," said Scott; "we'll give them a volley. You take the nurse
and I'll fix the boy.... Ready.... Fire!"
The ambuscade was perfectly successful; the nurse halted and looked
up, expressing herself definitely upon the manners and customs of the
twins; the boy, who appeared to be amazingly agile, seized a swinging
wistaria vine, clambered up the wall, and, clinging to the outside of the
iron railing, informed Scott that he would punch his head when a
pleasing opportunity presented itself.
"All right," retorted Scott; "come in and do it now."
"That's all very well for you to say when you know I can't climb over
this railing!"
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Scott, thrilled at the chance of another
boy on the grounds even if he had to fight him; "I'll tell you what!"
sinking his voice to an eager whisper; "You run away from your nurse
as soon as you get into the Park and I'll be at the front door and I'll let
you in. Will you?"
"Oh, please!" whispered Geraldine; "and bring your sister, too!"
The boy stared at her knickerbockers. "Do you want to fight my sister?"
he asked.
"I? Oh, no, no, no. You can fight Scott if you like, and your sister and I

will have such fun watching you. Will you?"
His nurse was calling him to descend, in tones agitated and peremptory;
the boy hesitated, scowled at Scott, looked uncertainly at Geraldine,
then shot a hasty and hostile glance at the interior of the mysterious
Seagrave estate. Curiosity overcame him; also, perhaps, a natural desire
for battle.
"Yes," he said to Scott, "I'll come back and punch your head for you."
And very deftly, clinging like a squirrel to the pendant wistaria, he let
himself down into the street again.
The Seagrave twins, intensely excited, watched them as far as Fifth
Avenue, then rapidly drawing on their shoes and stockings, scrambled
down to the shrubbery and raced for the