"But Storm's still supposed to be Mrs. Shuster's secretary," said Jack.

"If they had any differences after the affair of the telegrams, they've swallowed the hatchet--I mean, buried it. You remember, Storm stayed at home a whole day doing proofs, in the middle of the trip----"

"Yes, the day Pat also stayed at home--the same home--to write letters!"

"Well, what I was coming to is this: while he remains in Mrs. Shuster's service, whatever his motive for doing so may be, he's more or less at her beck and call. It suited her to have Storm's back, and all our backs, turned for a bit; now the ground is safe again under the lady's feet. She'll want our congratulations, and Storm's stylo, to send out the glad tidings. Ten to one by this time she's got hold of him, and he's heard the worst----"

"Meaning, not about her and Larry, but Pat and Caspian," I finished Jack's sentence.

"Storm will be at Kidd's Pines for lunch," went on my fellow-conspirator (I took it for granted he would be that!), "eating Dead Sea Apples."

"I don't believe it!" I contradicted. "Pat would hardly be equal to meeting him, with that nosebud and those eyes. He'll have escaped into the wilderness--his own backyard, probably. It's the safest and most retired place there is to have a Berserker rage in. I'll word my note so that he'll understand we're on the salvage dodge. Then he'll come like an arrow shot from the bow."

"Car permitting!" said Jack; but he was really sympathetic of course, or he wouldn't have been Jack.

Peter did come, and it was more complicated than I had thought, leading up to the subject, because as I've told you, P. S. is as reserved as a Leyden drop--if that's the name for it: don't you know, it falls into a jar full of something or other and instantly hardens on the outside, which sets up a great strain, and you have to be careful in touching it for fear it flies to bits? However, I began with Larry and Mrs. Shuster.

He hadn't heard about them, for he had been advised in a note from his employeress that he needn't come over till she sent for him (I suppose _that_ was to please Caspian and keep the hated rival out of the way till the creature could rush back). Peter didn't laugh at all, except just at first when I got off my _mot_ about the marshmallow kiss. He seemed to think, not about the funny part of such an entanglement for Larry, but about the horrid part of it for Pat. And then, when I had got him quite melted and human, I blurted out: "The worst of it is, poor little Patsey has sacrificed herself to save her father, because _she_ thought he'd sacrificed himself to save her, or something of that sort."

"What do you mean?" asked Peter, not able to wait till I had finished swallowing heavily.

"She's promised to marry a man she doesn't even _like_," I said. "Mr.

Caspian."

You ought to have seen his face! His lips tightened, and his eyes simply blazed. I almost thought in another second my Leyden drop _would_ fly to bits! But Peter isn't really that sort of badly regulated drop.

"Caspian's cursed money," he remarked, when he felt able to speak.

"Yes," I replied. "The poor girl said that she wished money were extinct. I wish his were, anyhow!"

"Stranger things have happened," returned Peter.

"I promised Pat that we'd save Larry, and I promised myself that we'd save her," I went on. "Jack and I have an exalted idea of your cleverness about conducting cars and affairs in general, so we decided to ask you to help us conspire. It was really you who made the success of the venture at Kidd's Pines, by your marvellous conjuring trick of getting Marcel Moncourt to come. We felt, if you could do a thing like that you could do anything. But my gracious, you look as if you'd resort to murder! We don't want you to go as far as that."

"I would if necessary," Peter said, "but I think it won't be necessary.

We'll scotch our snake, not kill him."

"The snake doesn't love _you_," I ventured. "I've sometimes thought he'd do all he could to hurt you. But--but I suppose he couldn't do anything very troublesome, could he, even if you envenomed him a little more?"

"He might be able to upset some of my arrangements," said Peter, "but in upsetting them, his own would be under the avalanche."

I saw by his look that this wasn't just a joke. The Stormy Petrel meant _something in particular_, something he didn't intend to explain to Jack or me; and all my old feeling about his mysteriousness came back. "I should feel guilty," I said, "if by asking you to plot with us, I'd induced you to mix yourself up in a business which might be annoying."

"However it turns out, it won't be annoying," Peter answered. "Things have gone far beyond that. If I choose, Mrs. Winston, I can put Caspian out of the running to-morrow. Money has given him power to use this situation for his own advantage. If he lost it----"

"Heavens, man, if he lost it, don't you see that Patricia Moore's the sort of girl to feel she owed him allegiance?" broke in Jack, who had so far confined himself to listening. "Any one who could take Caspian's money away would be _giving_ him the girl."

As I heard this, I realized how _very_ clever Jack is, for neither Peter Storm nor I had thought of that, though it was absolutely true. He and I would have rushed wildly ahead and broken every bank Caspian had a cent in, if we could. But we both had the wisdom to realize instantly that Jack was right about Pat.

"We mustn't do anything serious to begin with," I said. "Let's see if we can't think of something _silly_, like the mouse gnawing the net that had caught the lion. Another lion trying to do that would only have tangled up his teeth. Can you condescend to think of a thoroughly silly and frivolous trick?"

"I've thought of one," said Peter, "without condescending at all. As you say, we won't begin by tearing the net; we'll unravel it. What do you think would have happened to you, Mrs. Winston, before you were married, if you'd had to travel day after day in a motor car with a man you already disliked?"

"I _know_ what would have happened. It did happen!" Jack and I tossed each other a smile across the memory of Jimmy Payne. "I got to _loathe_ him. I see what's in your head--don't I?"

"You do. But one of us conspirators would have to be in the car to see how things worked, and when they'd gone far enough."

"Of course!" I caught him up. "And that one would have to be you. I must stick to my poor wounded man on our next trip, as on the last."

"Very well, let it be me," said Peter.

I don't think he wanted his eyes to meet mine at that moment, for he hadn't time to push his soul back behind the gla.s.s doors and lock it in.

Somehow he couldn't help it, though; and I knew that he knew that _I_ knew what was in his heart for Patricia Moore. Whatever the wild streak in his nature was, which had made him vow not to marry and settle down, the flame of love had burst out with such terrific force the streak was simply _melted_.

Truly, I hadn't begun this scene with the deliberate intention of being a matchmaker. But I saw that if the man hadn't loved to _desperation_, he would never have given in at all. Perhaps if this unpleasant tangle hadn't arrived he might have taken himself out of Patsey Moore's life without quite knowing what his had missed--until it was too late.

We went on developing our plan, with occasional suggestions from Jack; and we thought we might as well try to kill another bird with the same stone, by throwing it in the direction of Larry and Mrs. S.

Think what it will be for Larry to be engaged to Mrs. Shuster day after day in a motor car, especially if there's a better looking and younger woman on board!

You see how things are shaping themselves. I _hope_ it makes you look forward a little, little bit, to my next letter, dear girl!

Your affectionate, anxious, but optimistic

MOLLY.

XIV

PETER STORM TO JAMES STRICKLAND

_The Day before the Battle._

Many thanks for your letter, my dear fellow. It's less pessimistic than I expected, and gives me the impression that I may regard you as a Prop.

I shall follow your advice rigidly, though I must juggle some of the details, as Caspian has taken advantage of the poor little girl's love for her father, and practically (from what I understand) blackmailed her into promising to marry him. Mrs. Winston is in her confidence, though both she and I think there are unexplored depths. Patricia confesses that, rather than Larry should give her Mrs. Shuster for a step-mamma, she took the line of least resistance to obtain money. But I have a horrible instinctive idea that the trouble began at Piping Rock, and that she really sacrificed herself to shield me. This makes me feel positively hydrophobic toward Caspian; but all the same I'll remember what you say, and not be "precipitate"--one of your favourite words: follows you about like a dog!

Before doing anything drastic, I'm hoping that my dear girl may see for herself that Caspian is impossible. Or, if her devotion to Larry is like the Rock of Gibraltar on which waves of contrary emotions dash themselves in vain, it may be that Larry will do a little mining and sapping on his own account. Captain and Mrs. Winston and I have formed an alliance offensive and defensive, particularly the former, against the coalesced forces of Caspian and Shuster. There has been no talk of my private feelings--_bien entendu_--but the small nations are to be protected by our united diplomacy. We're starting off on another expedition planned with a certain bold audacity. Moore and his fat fiancee are to travel together in Caspian's Wilmot, conducted by his chauffeur, accompanied by the prettiest, most coquettish Miss Goodrich, and one of Mrs. Shuster's Peace League Confreres, ex-Senator Collinge, a violently intelligent man who looks (Mrs. Winston says) like a moth-eaten lion with false teeth.

We hope and expect that Mrs. Shuster will get on Larry's sensitive nerves when at such close quarters; that desperation combined with natural inclination will drive him to flirt with Idonia Goodrich, who will enthusiastically respond; that Mrs. Shuster's mortification may drive her to such vulgar vengeance as will disgust Larry beyond repair; that the lion may not be too moth-eaten to seize his chance and the lady, and that Pat may then scramble down from the pyre of self-sacrifice.

This seems a good deal to expect from a three or four days' motoring trip, doesn't it? But almost anything can happen in automobiles. And I haven't told you yet the rest of our programme.

"Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry" don't count. They're simply "on in the scene,"

and like the poor, always with us! They pound through the landscape as before, with their Hippopotamus; and Captain and Mrs. Winston, who are to be of the party, will take our bride and bridegroom again, a very appropriate arrangement. But everything hangs upon the Grayles-Grice.

After a council of war with the Winstons, I advised Miss Moore that it would be comparatively safe to have Caspian conduct. You see, the two engagements are announced (Caspian and Mrs. Shuster saw to that, without letting a blade of gra.s.s grow under their feet!), and so it was easy for me to take it for granted that Patricia would wish to give the wheel of her car to C. "Of course you'll want to sit in front," I said humbly.

"But if you would still care to have any help I can give, I'd gladly offer my services. I can perch on one of the fold-up chairs," I went on, "which will leave plenty of room for any others you like to take, no matter how large (I thought of the Goodriches). I've had more experience as a mechanic than Mr. Caspian, perhaps, and I might be useful in emergencies----"