"You shall have some," he said, determined not to be outdone again by Spotts, "and I"ll get it for you myself."
"No, no!" she protested. "I didn"t mean that. I shouldn"t have said it.
I wouldn"t have you go for worlds. You"d surely be arrested."
"Nonsense!" he replied. "I think I can manage it and get back safely, and you and Mrs. Mackintosh must have something sustaining, for you"ve a long walk before you." And, in spite of all remonstrances, he prepared to set out on his delicate and dangerous mission.
"What"s your plan?" asked Friend Othniel, immensely interested now there was a chance of an adventure.
"I"m going to crawl along in the dry ditch beside the railroad track till I get up to the station, and then trust to luck. I used to be able to do a hundred yards in pretty decent time in my Oxford days, and if I can get into the refreshment-room without being seen, I don"t think they"ll catch me."
"Well, good luck to yer," said the tramp, "and if yer should come across a hunk of pumpkin pie, don"t forget your friend Othniel."
Banborough slipped off his overcoat, and donning a pair of heavy dogskin gloves, the property of the driver of the Black Maria, which the tramp produced, he watched his opportunity when no one was in sight at the station, and, cautioning the rest of the party not to betray by their actions that anything unusual was going on, stole across the open field and, dropping into the shallow ditch, began his perilous journey.
Within three feet of the edge of the platform all means of concealment ceased; but feeling that a bold course was the only one which gave any hope of success, Cecil rose quickly, and, slipping across the exposed place in an instant, glided into the great woodshed which in that part of the world, where coal is expensive, forms an important adjunct to every station. He felt himself practically secure here, as no one was likely to come for logs so early in the morning; and after waiting for a few moments to make certain that his presence had not been discovered, he threw himself down on his face, and, crawling noiselessly on all-fours across the twenty feet of open platform which intervened between the woodshed and the main building, achieved the precarious shelter afforded by the side wall of the house. He then wormed himself forward till he was close to the front corner; and here his patient efforts were at last rewarded, for he heard a few sc.r.a.ps of a conversation which, had he been in a less dangerous position, would have afforded him infinite amus.e.m.e.nt.
"I tell you what it is," came the strident voice of the station-master.
"It ain"t no mortal manner of use. Why, they spotted me to onct; said how was they to know I drawed the line correct."
"Ha!" said one of the policemen. "Couldn"t you go out and d.i.c.ker with them some more?"
"Nope," rejoined the other shortly. "And there"s that whole tin o"
coffee in the back room goin" to waste, and I guess they"d have paid more"n a dollar for it."
"Where"s Mr. Marchmont?" asked the second speaker, a remark which caused Banborough considerable surprise.
"He"s been keepin" out o" the way o" them Spaniards," said the station-master, "lest they should get a sight of him, "cause he may have to shadow "em in Canady, and he don"t want "em to get on to who he is.
He"s gone upstairs now to get a snooze, an" that"s where I"m goin", too.
There ain"t no train for three hours, and I"ve had enough o" this durned foolishness."
"What"s that?" cried the policeman, as a sharp sound smote their ears.
"Tain"t nothin" but the back door slammin"," replied the other. "I must ha" forgot to latch it. The wind"s riz a bit."
"Yes," said the officer, "and it"s going to rain presently."
"I guess I"d better go and shet that door."
"No, you stay here; I want to talk to you. We"ll let them get thoroughly drenched, and you can offer them the hospitality of the woodshed. Maybe we could alter the boundary-line a few feet in the interests of justice."
Banborough waited to hear no more, but, drawing softly back, sprang to his feet and ran noiselessly along the side of the house and round to the unlatched door behind. Now, if ever, was his chance. He dashed into a room which seemed to be a combination of kitchen and bar, but on the stove stood a steaming tin can of savoury coffee, while among the bottles on the shelf, just showing out of its paper wrappings, was a goodly loaf of white bread. Had he left well alone, and been satisfied with the coffee, he would have been all right; but the bread tempted him, and to obtain possession of it he must go behind the bar. This he hastened to do, unlatching the little swinging gate at the end, when a scuffling sound from the room above gave place to heavy foot-falls on the boards, and a moment later Marchmont called down the stairs which evidently led into the front room:
"Say! One of that gang"s in the bar! I saw him come up to the door as I was lying in bed!" A bit of information which was instantly followed by a clatter of chairs on the front platform.
Wedged in behind the bar, Banborough felt himself trapped. But a happy inspiration seizing him, he possessed himself of the can of coffee and, with the loaf of bread in his other hand, crawled under the protecting shelf, while just at that moment a particularly strong gust of wind blew the unlatched door wide open, banging it back against the wall.
To his intense astonishment, Cecil found his hiding-place already occupied by the rec.u.mbent and sleeping form of a man, and, jumping to the conclusion that he must be either a policeman or a detective, he promptly sat upon his head with a view to suppressing any inopportune remarks. A second later three men rushed into the room, and Banborough held his breath. But luck was with him, for one glance at the empty stove and the open door satisfied the station-master, who cried:
"Those fellows has bolted with the coffee!" and dashed out at the back, followed by the policemen.
In a second Cecil was up and out of the bar, but not before he had received a smashing blow in the ribs from the stranger he had so rudely awakened. He promptly struck out in return, and from the sputtering and thrashing sounds which emanated from under the shelf he judged that his blow had gone home.
s.n.a.t.c.hing up the coffee and the bread, he dashed through to the front of the house, and, emerging on the platform, saw a sight which filled his heart with joy. On the track stood one of those little flat cars, employed by section-men, which is propelled by means of a wheel and crank in the centre turned by hand, on the same principle as a velocipede.
He sprang upon it, deposited his precious burden, and began turning the crank with feverish energy. To his joy, the car at once started forward, and under his well-directed pressure went rattling out of the station, shooting by his three astonished pursuers as they rounded the corner of the woodshed. Two minutes later he arrived in triumph at the potato-patch, being warmly welcomed by his admiring companions, who forthwith fell to and made a satisfying, if frugal, meal.
Just as they were finishing, the station-master came up, and, being rendered thoroughly amiable by a liberal recompense for the stolen viands, so far forgot himself, in his appreciation of Banborough"s pluck, as to admit that there was no objection to their taking the flat car on to the next station, provided they could square it with the superintendent on arrival, as there were no trains due either way.
"How far is the next station?" asked Cecil, as the party clambered on to the car.
"About twelve miles," said Miss Arminster.
"Do you know it?" asked Banborough, still glowing under her praises of his prowess.
"Oh, yes," she replied softly. "I was married there last June."
The Englishman, muttering something under his breath, seized the handles and, giving them a vicious turn, sent the car spinning northwards.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH A LOCKET IS ACCEPTED AND A RING REFUSED.
Something over a week after the events narrated in the last chapter, Banborough was lounging in the office of the Windsor Hotel at Montreal.
The course of events had run more smoothly for the party since the day they arrived in the city, weary and travel-stained with their adventurous trip. Montreal in general, and the manager of the Windsor in particular, were accustomed to see travellers from the States appear in all sorts of garbs and all kinds of conditions incident to a hasty departure, so their coming occasioned little comment; and as Cecil never did things by halves, they were soon rehabilitated and installed in the best apartments the hotel could offer.
The various members of the party, after the first excitement was over, had relapsed into a listless existence, which, however, was destined to be rudely disturbed, for while the Englishman"s thoughts were wandering in anything but a practical direction, he was aroused from his reverie by a well-known voice, and, turning, found himself face to face with Marchmont.
"Well, who on earth would have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed the journalist. "Have you fled to Canada to escape being lionised?"
"No," said Banborough cautiously, "not exactly for that reason."
"We couldn"t imagine what had become of you," continued his friend.
"You"re the hero of the hour in New York, I can tell you, and "The Purple Kangaroo" is achieving the greatest success of the decade."
"Oh, confound "The Purple Kangaroo--"!"
"That"s right; run it down. Your modesty becomes you. But seriously, old man, let me congratulate you. You must be making heaps out of it."
"Let"s talk about something else," said Banborough wearily, for he was heartily sick of his unfortunate novel. "You ask me why I"m here. I"ll return the compliment. Why are you?"
"Why," returned Marchmont, "you"re partially to blame for it, you know.
I"m after those Spanish conspirators. Of course you"ve heard the story?"
"No," said Banborough. "I haven"t been in town for a fortnight. What is it?"