CHAPTER XIV-A HIGHWAYMAN IN DISGUISE

The roads were so poor that it was impossible to reach Bordeaux that evening, and Mr. Fabian said it would be better to stop at a small Inn in a village, should they find a promising one. Consequently they decided that the clean little inn at Agen would answer their needs that night.

The two cars were rolled under a shed at the back, and the guests were shown to the low-ceiled chambers with primitive accommodations. But the supper was good, and the host a jolly fat man.

While the tourists were finishing their coffee, a little bent man limped into the public room. He had great hoops of gold in his ears, and his costume was very picturesque. After he had been given a gla.s.s of home-made wine, he sat down in a corner and began playing softly on an accordion.

He had a marvelous talent for this instrument, and the girls crowded about him, listening intently. Soon the host's grown daughter came out and danced a folk-dance, and then others danced the old-time French dances. When the American girls were called upon to add their quota to the evening's entertainment, they gladly complied.

Polly and Eleanor, Dodo and Nancy danced the modern steps so popular with young folks of the present day, and the peasants, watching closely, laughed at what they considered awkward and ridiculous gambols. But the dancing suddenly ceased when a young man called upon the musician to have his fortune told; he held out his palm and waited to hear his future.

Fully two hours were spent in laughing at the "fortunes" the old gipsy man told-for he was one of the original Spanish gipsies, who had wandered to the southern part of France and settled there for life.

The girls giggled and reviewed their fortunes that night long after they had retired. As they had to occupy the two ma.s.sive beds in one guest-room, it gave them the better opportunity to talk when they should have been fast asleep.

Finally they were ready to sleep and Polly was about to snuff the candle before jumping into bed, when Nancy suddenly whispered: "S-sh!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: POLLY TIP-TOED TO THE WINDOW.]

The four sat up and strained their sense of hearing. "I heard a queer noise just outside our door," whispered Nancy.

"I'll tip-toe over and see who it is," whispered Polly, acting as she spoke.

"No-no! Don't open the door! That gipsy may be there," cried Nancy, fearfully.

But another scratching sound under the low window now drew all attention to that place. Polly slowly tip-toed silently to the open window and tried to peer out. The trees and vines made the back of the garden shadowy and she could not see if anyone were under the window, or trying to get in somewhere else.

The other three girls now crept out of bed and joined Polly at the window. They waited silently, and were soon rewarded for their patience.

They distinctly heard voices almost under their window, whispering carefully, so no one would be awakened.

"I think we ought to rouse Daddy, or Mr. Alexander," said Nancy, trembling with apprehension.

"You run and tell your father, while I get Pa out of bed," said Dodo, groping about for her negligee.

Meantime Polly and Eleanor watched so no one could get in at their window, and the two other girls ran across the hall to their parents'

rooms. In a short time both Mr. Fabian and Mr. Alexander came in and crept over to the window where the girls had heard the burglars plotting.

Mr. Fabian understood French so now he interpreted what he overheard: "Drop the bundle and I'll catch it. Don't make a noise, and be careful not to overlook anything valuable."

"Dear me! If they are burglars where is the one who is told to drop a bundle? He must be inside, somewhere!" whispered Dodo, excitedly.

There followed a mumbling that no one could understand, and then a splash,-as if a bundle of soft stuff had dropped into water from a height. Immediately after this, the voice from below excitedly spoke to the companion above: "--It fell in the well! Now what is to be done?"

"Goody! Goody!" breathed Polly, eagerly, when she heard how the burglars had defeated their own purpose.

But no sound came from the other burglar who was working indoors, and Mr. Alexander had an idea which he suggested to Mr. Fabian.

"You go downstairs softly, while I scout around up here and locate the room where the helper is working. When I give a whistle it means 'I've got the other feller under hand'-then you catch your man, red-handed, out in the garden, and the girls will rouse the house and we will present our prisoners to the host."

That sounded fine, so Mr. Alexander hurried to his room for his western gun, and started out to hunt up the indoor worker. Mrs. Alexander realized that he was about to do something unusual, or he never would have taken his big revolver.

"Ebeneezer, what is wrong? Are we in danger of being robbed?"

"I'm going to catch one before we can think if there is any danger, for anyone," said her husband, going for the door.

"Listen, Ebeneezer! Don't you go and risk your life for that! You promised to take care of me first! Let Mr. Fabian, or some of the Frenchmen here, try and catch the man!" cried Mrs. Alexander, hysterically, running after her spouse.

But the little man was spry and he was out of the door and down the entry before his wife reached the doorway. There was but one alternative for her, and that was to go to the girls' room and pour her troubles forth into their ears.

But the four girls were too intent upon what was going on to sympathize with Mrs. Alexander. Dodo merely said, in reply to her mother's complaints: "Get into my bed, Ma, and pull the covers over your head, if you're so frightened."

All this time, the man down in the garden was directing his a.s.sociate above, and at last the girls indistinctly saw someone slowly descend, what seemed to be a rope hanging close to the side of the house. They held their breath and waited, for Mr. Fabian surely must have reached the garden by this time and would be ready to capture the escaping thieves, before they could get away.

But a loud shouting and a great confusion in the large public room drew their attention to the upper hall, where they could hear what was going on below. Mrs. Fabian joined her friends in the entry at the head of the stairs and they heard the host shout:

"So! You look like a decent gentleman and you creep down here to take my living from me! Shame, shame!"

Then to the horror of the girls, they heard Mr. Fabian remonstrate volubly and try to explain his reason for going about the place so stealthily.

Mrs. Fabian rushed down the stairs, regardless of her curl-papers and kimono, and the girls followed closely upon her heels. Only Mrs.

Alexander remained upstairs under the bed-covers, thinking discretion to be the better part of valor.

The host and some other guests were surrounding Mr. Fabian who tried to explain that Mr. Alexander and he were following burglars who were looting the place. The host smiled derisively, and told his guest to prove what he said was true.

Just then Mrs. Alexander screamed, and came pell-mell down the stairs.

"Oh, oh! A gipsy man came out of the _girls'_ room!"

Everyone ran upstairs to catch the trespa.s.ser, but he was not to be found. Then a scuffle, and confused shouts from the garden, reached the ears of the crowd who stood wondering what next to do. A clear shrill whistle echoed through the place, and Mr. Fabian turned impatiently.

"Now you've spoiled the arrest of those two burglars. I was to get the outside man when that whistle sounded, to tell me that Mr. Alex had the inside man safely in hand."

But the shouting and whistling sounded more confused on the garden-side of the house, so they all ran downstairs again, and went out to a.s.sist in any way they might.

Someone was hanging on to someone else who clung for dear life to a thick vine that grew up the side wall and over the roof of the inn. It was this rope-like vine that the girls had mistaken for a rope of escape for the thief. Mr. Alexander was in the garden, trying to drag down the escaping burglar, while that individual was trying to climb back into the room whence he had recently come.

Just as the others rushed out into the dark garden to a.s.sist Mr.

Alexander, another man appeared at the upper window and caught hold of his a.s.sociate's hands to pull him back to safety.

"Wait! I get my ladder!" shouted the host, running for the shed. But a howl of rage, and French curses tumbling pell-mell from him told the others that he had gone headlong into a new danger.

Mr. Fabian and the young man-waiter ran to help the poor inn-keeper, and to their amazement they found he had collided with Mrs. Alexander's roadster which was standing behind the bushes, facing towards the road.

"I'll turn on the lights, in a moment, and see if all is right," quickly said Mr. Fabian, jumping up to start the engine.

Before he could switch on the lights, however, a general shout of dismay came from the people a.s.sembled under the window, and the three men ran back to see what had happened.