The Daring Twins

“Don’t answer any questions during your interview with Elaine,” he advised. “And take care to ask none. Above all, don’t let her suspect you were playing ghost in the graveyard last night.”

Phœbe promised and went home again. At twelve o’clock she carried the package around to the rear stairs, which she was about to mount when Elaine appeared in the doorway above her.

“Stay where you are!” was the harsh command.

The girl resented the words and the tone, so with determination she mounted the stairs. Elaine barred her way.

“You must count the money and give me a receipt,” said Phœbe.

“I’ll count it; but you’ll get no receipt, for you gave none, you miserable little thief!” snarled the woman, rudely snatching the parcel.

“Then, I’ll wait here until you count it.”

“No you won’t. Go down – instantly! And if the money is not all here, to jail you go.”

“I think I’ll see my grandfather,” asserted the girl, more to annoy Elaine than because she wished to visit the helpless old man.

For answer Miss Halliday slammed the door in her face and locked it. Phœbe slowly retreated and descended to the yard. There the thought occurred to her that she might watch Elaine through the rear windows, for she was curious to see how she acted when she found the money all restored. So she slipped away into the lane, which being slightly elevated enabled her to peer into the second story windows. There she bumped against Toby Clark, who was standing half hidden by a clump of bushes.

“Oh! You here?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. Anything up?” he inquired.

“I’ve just given Elaine the money, and she impudently locked me out. So I thought I’d come here and watch the windows.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing. Stand back here in the shade, Miss Daring, so you won’t be seen. That’s it. Now look at that window. What do you see?”

“Only gran’pa sitting in his chair.”

“Oh. Is that your grandfather!”

“Of course,” said Phœbe. “He sits there all day long, looking over the country. Once, you know, he owned all the land as far as he can now see.”

“And does he sit there all night, too?”

“No, indeed; Elaine puts him to bed at night.”

“Last night,” said Toby, reflectively, “she left him in his chair, instead of putting him to bed. I saw him. The room was dark, but he was so close to the window that the stars showed his form distinctly.”

“Then Elaine is neglecting poor gran’pa!” cried Phœbe, indignantly. “And he is so dependent on her kindness, too!”

Toby gave a low, apologetic cough.

“Your eyes are good, Miss Daring?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Then look again, and carefully. Is that indeed your grandfather – is it really Mr. Eliot in the chair?”

Phœbe was surprised at the question, but she looked carefully.

“Of course. I’ve seen him sitting that way every day, for months past.”

“Can you see his face?”

“Not very well, from here. It is muffled up in his dressing gown, you know, so he won’t take cold.”

“It’s pretty warm to-day,” observed the lawyer’s clerk.

“But Gran’pa Eliot is paralyzed, and his blood doesn’t circulate freely. He is always well wrapped up, whatever the weather.”

Toby whistled softly and looked down at the ground, where he was digging up the earth with the toe of his shoe.

“It must be dinner time,” said Phœbe, suddenly remembering the fact. “Phil will be coming home and I must go in.”

“Will you be very busy this afternoon, Miss Daring?”

“I think not. Why?”

“Can you come here for a half hour or so?”

“Yes, Toby, if I can be of any service.”

“I think you can. This is a queer affair, isn’t it?”

“It’s very queer, Toby.”

“Then I shall expect you,” he said with a sudden change of tone.

Phœbe went in, thinking the while how odd this boy was. She wondered casually why Judge Ferguson had placed so much confidence in him. There was still a good deal of mystery about this affair and Phœbe did not yet know what the lawyer intended to do to checkmate old Elaine. However, she was content to trust her father’s friend, and greatly relieved to be able to return that dreadful money to the covetous woman.

After dinner she walked with Phil to the gate. Said he:

“Have you anything to tell me?”

“Not yet, Phil,” she answered softly. “Try to be patient, for all is well, I’m sure, and we’re going to be very happy when these troubled days are over.”

He said no more, but bent and kissed her and went on his way.

After accomplishing a few household duties and bandaging a cut on Becky’s arm – it seemed the girl was always hurting herself – and helping Don find his cap, which he always mislaid when he came in, Phœbe remembered her promise to Toby Clark and slipped away unobserved to his station in the lane.

She found the little clerk staring fixedly at the window where Gran’pa Eliot sat. He gave a start as the girl approached, and then his freckled face lit up with a smile.

“I want you to watch Miss Halliday for me, for half an hour,” he said.

“Where is she?”

“Somewhere in those upper rooms. She has just passed the window to the left. But, although I’ve watched her for hours, she has never once stopped at your grandfather’s side to do anything for him.”