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Her reflections were interrupted by the turning around of the automobile. Ruth had evidently decided to go back by the way they had come. Opening her eyes she saw before her a quaint and charming old church set in the midst of a rambling graveyard.
There also stood the black cyclist, like a gruesome sentinel among the tombs. He lifted his cap as they drew up, and, after hesitating a moment, came forward to open the door and help Miss Sallie alight.
“Permit me, Madam,” he said, with such grace of demeanor that the lady thanked him almost with effusion. Grace and Mollie were assisted as if they had been princesses of the blood, as they described it later, while the other two girls leaped to the ground before he had time to make any overtures in their direction.
There was rather an awkward pause, for a moment, as the stranger, with uncovered head, stood aside to let them pass. The silence was not broken and Miss Stuart chose to let it remain so.
“One cannot be too careful,” she had always said, “of chance acquaintances, especially men.” However, she was predisposed in favor of the cyclist, whose manners were exceptional.
The girls were strolling about among the graves, examining the stones with their quaint epitaphs, while the stranger leaned against a tree and lit a cigarette.
Miss Stuart, with her lorgnette, was making a survey of the church.
“From the account of the supper party at the Van Tassels’ in Sleepy Hollow,” said Ruth, “the early Dutch must have just about eaten themselves to death. Do you remember all the food there was piled on the table at the famous quilting party? Every kind of cake known to man, to begin with; or rather, Washington Irving began with cakes. Roast fowls and turkeys, hams and sausages, puddings and pies and the humming tea-urn in the midst of it.”
“I don’t think the women had such big appetites as the men,” observed Mollie. “At least Katrina Van Tassel is described as being very dainty, and I can’t imagine a pretty young girl working straight through such a bill of fare, and yet looking quite the same ever after.”
“But remember that they took lots of exercise,” put in Barbara, “of a kind we know nothing about. All the Dutch girls were taught to scrub and polish and clean.”
“What were we doing when Ruth and Miss Sallie and Mr. Stuart arrived, Bab, I’d like to know?” interrupted Mollie indignantly. “Weren’t we rubbing the parlor furniture and polishing the floor?”
“Yes,” returned Barbara, “but you could put our entire house down in the parlor of one of those old Dutch farm houses, and still have room and to spare.”
“And think of all the copper kettles they had to keep polished,” added Grace.
“And the spinning they had to do,” said Ruth.
“And the cooking and butter making,” continued Bab. “Yes, Mistress Mollie, I think there’s some excuse for sausages and all the rest. And I am sure I could have forgiven Katrina if she ate everything in sight.”
“Ah, well,” replied Mollie, “no doubt she was fat at thirty!”
CHAPTER IV – A CRY FOR HELP
AS they talked the young girls wandered over the grassy sward of the churchyard and their voices grew fainter and fainter to the cyclist and Miss Sallie.
The latter had seated herself on the stump of an old tree and was busily engaged in re-reading her mail, at which she had glanced only carelessly that morning.
The air was very still and hot, and the hum of insects made a drowsy accompaniment to the songs of the birds. The cyclist had stretched himself at full length on the grass under an immense elm tree and was lazily blowing blue rings of smoke skywards.
Presently there broke upon the noonday stillness a cry for help. It was in a high, girlish voice – Mollie’s in fact – and it was followed by others in quick succession.
Miss Stuart, scattering her mail on the ground in her fright, rushed in the direction of the cries, the cyclist close behind her.
On a knoll near the church the sight which met Miss Sallie’s eyes almost made her knees give way. But she had a cool head in danger, in spite of her lavender draperies and pretended helplessness.
A tramp, who seemed to them all at the moment as big as a giant, with matted hair and beard and face swollen from drink, had seized Ruth and Barbara by the wrists with one of his enormous hands. A woman equally ragged in appearance was tugging at the fellow’s other hand in an effort to quiet him.
As Miss Sallie ran toward the group she heard Barbara say quietly:
“Let go our wrists and we shall be glad to give you all the money we have with us.”
“I tell you I want more money than that,” said the man in a hoarse, terrible voice. “I want enough money to keep me for the rest of my days. Do you think I like to sleep on the ground and eat bread and water? I tell you I want my rights. Why should you be rich and me poor? Why should you be dressed in silks while my wife wears rags?”
As he raved, he jerked his hand away from the woman, almost throwing her forward in his violence, and gesticulated wildly.
The two girls were both very pale and calm, but the poor tramp woman was crying bitterly.
Barbara’s lips were moving, but she said nothing, and only Mollie knew it was her mother’s prayer she was repeating.
“Don’t be frightened, young ladies,” sobbed the woman, “I will see that no harm comes to you, even if he kills me.”
“Do you call this a free country,” continued the tramp, “when there are thousands of people like me who have no houses and must beg for food? I would like to kill all the rich men in this country and turn their children loose to beg and steal, as we must do to get a living! Do you think I would ever have come to this pass if a rich man had not brought me to it? Do you think I was always a tramp like this, and my wife yonder a tramp, too?”
At this point the drunken wretch began to cry, but he still held the two girls tightly by the wrists.
“I tell you I’ll take a ransom for you and nothing less. I’ll get out of the world all it’s taken from me, and your father will have to do the paying. Come on!” he cried in a tone of command, to his trembling wife.
At this critical moment Miss Stuart and the motor cyclist came running to the scene.
There was a look of immense relief on Miss Sallie’s face when she saw the courteous stranger at her heels. She had been about to speak, but was silent.
“Oh, ho!” cried the tramp, “so you’ve got a protector, have you? Well, come on! I’ll fight the whole lot of you, women and men, too, and with one hand, at that!”
He loomed up like a giant beside the small, slender cyclist, but he was a drunken giant nevertheless and not prepared for what was about to happen.
However, at first, it appeared to them all that a little persuasion might be better than force.
“If you will let the young ladies go, my good man,” said the cyclist, “you will not regret it. You will be well paid. I would advise you to take a sensible view of the matter. You cannot kidnap us all, and it would not take long to get help. Would you prefer a long term in jail to a sum of money?” And the cyclist drew a leather wallet from his coat pocket.
“You think you are mighty smart, young man,” sneered the tramp, “but I can kidnap all of you, and nobody ever be the wiser. Do you think I’d let a chance like this go? My pals are right over there.” He pointed with his free hand to the woods back of him.
“You will be sorry,” said the cyclist.
With an oath, the tramp put his finger to his mouth and gave a long, shrill whistle.
But in that moment he was off his guard, and the cyclist leaped upon him like a leopard on a lion. One swift blow under the jaw and down tumbled the giant as Goliath fell before David.
The poor woman, who was crouching in terror behind a tree, jumped to her feet.
“Run!” she cried in a frightened whisper. “Run for your lives!”
The cyclist seized Miss Sallie by the arm.
“She is right. It is better to run. The others may be coming.”
And they did run. Terror seemed to lend wings to their feet. Even Miss Stuart, assisted by their rescuer, fled over the grass as swiftly as her charges.
Ruth and Barbara reached the automobile first. In an instant Ruth had cranked up the machine while Barbara opened the door.
Another moment, and they were off down the road, the black-clad cyclist following. Glancing back, they saw two other rough-looking men helping their comrade to rise to his feet. Then they disappeared in the woods while the woman, with many anxious backward glances, followed her companions.
Nobody spoke for some time. The girls were too much terrified by the narrow escape to trust to their voices. The bravest women will weep after a danger is past, and all five of these women were very near the point of tears.
Presently the cyclist came up alongside of the automobile, which had slowed down somewhat when they reached the main road.
“I will go ahead and inform the police,” he called over his shoulder, “but I fear it will not be of much use. Men like that will scatter and hide themselves at the first alarm.”
Miss Sallie smiled at him gratefully. Touching his cap, which was fastened under his chin with a strap and could not be lifted without some inconvenience, the stranger shot ahead and soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Miss Sallie was thinking deeply. She wished that Major Ten Eyck and the boys had not left the hotel that morning. She felt need of the strong support of the opposite sex. She felt also the responsibility of being at the head of her party of young girls.
Should they dare start off again next day into the wilderness after such an experience? Of course, as long as they were in the automobile, going at full speed, nothing could stop them except a puncture, and punctures on country roads were not as frequent as they were on city streets. What would her brother say? Would he sanction such a trip after this fearful experience? And still she hesitated.
The truth was, Miss Stuart was as eager as the girls to accept the invitation that had been so unexpectedly made. She did not wish to revive the romance of her youth, but she did have an overweening desire to see the ancestral home of her old lover, and to talk with him on the thousand subjects that spring up when two old friends come together after many years.
It was, therefore, with half-hearted vehemence that she said to the four rather listless girls:
“My dears, don’t you think it would be very dangerous for us to go over to Major Ten Eyck’s, to-morrow, after this fearful attack?”
Everybody looked relieved that somebody had had the courage to say the first word.
“Dear auntie, we’ll leave it entirely to you,” replied Ruth. “Although, I don’t believe we are likely to be kidnapped as long as we keep the automobile going. The fastest running tramp in Christendom couldn’t keep up with us, even when we’re going at an ordinary rate. From what Major Ten Eyck said, the road is pretty good. We ought to get there in an hour, since it’s only fifteen miles from here, and the last mile or so is on his estate.”
The other girls said nothing, it being a matter for the chaperon to settle.
“Very well, my dear,” answered Miss Sallie, acquiescing so suddenly that the others almost smiled in spite of the seriousness of their feelings at the moment. “But I do feel that we had a narrow escape this morning. If it had not been for the young man on the motor cycle I tremble to think what would have been the consequences. And I certainly believe if we are not going back to New York, the sooner we get into the society of some male protectors the better for us. I am sorry that fifteen miles separate us. I wish those boys had thought to motor back and get us to-morrow.”
“Oh, well,” observed Barbara, “fifteen miles is a mere bagatelle, when you come to think of it. Why, we shall be there before we know it.”
CHAPTER V – THE MOTOR CYCLIST
By this time the automobile had reached the hotel. Miss Sallie led the way to the dining room and they formed rather a weak-kneed procession, for they were beginning to experience that all-gone feeling that comes after a fright.
The luncheon hamper full of good things had been carried back into the hotel, since there had been neither time nor opportunity for the picnic party the girls had planned.
“I think a little food is what we really need, now,” exclaimed Ruth. “Cheer up, Mollie and Grace. Bab, smile for the ladies. It’s all over. Here we are, safe, and we are going to have a beautiful time at Major Ten Eyck’s. Please, dear friends, don’t begin to take this gloomy view of life. As for the anarchist person who attacked us in the woods, you may depend upon it that he and his friends are so frightened they will be running in an opposite direction from Tarrytown for another week. As for the foreign young man who stepped up to the rescue, he should certainly be thanked.”
Ruth had by nature a happy temperament. She quickly threw off small troubles, and depression in others made her really unhappy.
“It was truly a daring deed,” replied Barbara, “and all the more daring considering that the tramp would have made about two of the cyclist. But the blow he gave was as swift and sure as a prize fighter’s.”
“Did you notice that the poor woman was rather pretty?” commented Mollie.
“My dear child,” cried Miss Sallie, “I really believe you would notice people’s looks on the way to your own execution. Now, for my part, I could not see anything. I was almost too frightened to breathe. I felt that I should faint at any moment.”
“Why, Aunt Sallie, you are more frightened now than you were then,” exclaimed her niece. “You were as calm as the night. As for Grace, she looked like a scared rabbit. Mollie, darling, I’m glad you had the presence of mind to scream. If you hadn’t Aunt Sallie and the motor cyclist might have looked for us in vain.”
While she was speaking the cyclist came into the dining-room.
As soon as Miss Stuart saw him she rose from the table in her most stately manner and walked over to meet him.
“Sir,” she said, and Ruth gave the merest flicker of a blink at Bab, “you did a very brave thing to-day, and I want to thank you for all of us. If you had not been there my niece and her friend would undoubtedly have been kidnapped. You perhaps saved their lives. They might have been killed by those ruffians. Won’t you give us your name and address? My brother, I am sure, would like to write to you himself. We shall be indebted to you always.”
The young man’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“It was nothing, I assure you, Madam,” he replied. “It was easy because the man was intoxicated. He went over at the first blow. My name,” he continued, “is Martinez. José Martinez. My address is the Waldorf, New York.”
“I am Miss Stuart,” said Miss Sallie, “and I would like to present you to my niece, Miss Ruth Stuart, and her friends Miss Grace Carter and Misses Barbara and Mollie Thurston. It would give us great pleasure if you would lunch with us, Mr. Martinez.”
“When a man saves your life you certainly can’t stand on ceremony,” commented Miss Sallie to herself.
An animated discussion followed. Mr. Martinez had been to see the chief of police, he said, who would call on Miss Stuart that afternoon, if convenient. He could not offer any hope, however, of catching the men.
Miss Sallie replied that, for her part, she hoped they wouldn’t take the creatures. It would do no good and she did not want to spend any time cooped up in a court room in such scorching weather. But did Mr. Martinez think it would be dangerous for them to take a trip up into the hills the next day?
“It would depend upon the road,” replied Mr. Martinez. “That is, if the trip were taken by automobile. Of course my motor cycle can run on any road.”
“It is a good road,” replied Ruth. “At the crossroads there is a bad road; but, fortunately, we do not have to take it, since the new road with the bridge has been opened up, so Major Ten Eyck says.”
In which case Mr. José Martinez was of a mind with the young ladies that the trip would be perfectly safe.
Miss Sallie gave a sigh of relief. If this estimable young man sanctioned the trip she felt they might take it with clear consciences. But she did hope her brother’s views on the subject would be the same.
Then the talk drifted into other channels.
“You are a Spaniard, I presume, Mr. Martinez?” questioned Miss Sallie.
“Yes, Madam, a Spaniard by birth, a Frenchman by education and at present an American by choice. I have lived in England, also, but I believe I prefer America to all other countries, even my own.”
Miss Stuart was much gratified at this avowal. She felt that in complimenting America he was complimenting her indirectly.
“Have you seen the Alhambra and the Rock of Gibraltar?” demanded Mollie, her wide, blue eyes full of interest.
“Oh, yes, Madamoiselle,” replied the handsome Spaniard, smiling at her gently, “I have seen the Alhambra many times, and Gibraltar once only.” A curious shade passed over his face as if Gibraltar held memories which he was not anxious to revive.
“Does the Rock of Gibraltar really look like a lion?” asked Grace, who had not noticed his distaste to the mere mention of the name.
“I do not know, Madamoiselle,” he replied shortly. “I saw it only from land. I was,” he added hesitatingly, “very ill when I was there.”
The waiter announced the chief of police to see Miss Sallie, and the luncheon party adjourned to the shady side of the piazza.
All this time Barbara had been very quiet, so quiet, indeed, that Ruth had asked her in a whisper, as they left the dining room, if she were still feeling the shock of the morning.
“Oh, no,” replied Barbara, “I am simply trying to stifle a ridiculous fear I have that, maybe, we ought not to go to-morrow. It is absurd, so please don’t mention it to the others, especially as even Miss Sallie thinks it safe, and little coward Mollie is not afraid.”
“You are just tired, poor dear,” said sympathetic Ruth. “Come along up to your room, and we shall have a little ‘relaxation,’ as my old colored mammy used to say. We’ll spend a quiet afternoon in our rooms, and at sunset we can take a spin along the river bank before supper. What do you say?”
“I am agreeable,” replied Bab.
