GI Brides (47 page)

“Sure thing I do,” said Mike heartily. “Her Grandma died the other day, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did, and she’s having a stiff time of it just now. Some in-laws came to the funeral and don’t seem to know enough to go home. The woman is the widow of Dale’s uncle Harold, and she’s a handful. She’s trying to make it appear that she ought to inherit at least a part of that house, and she’s making life miserable for Dale. She hasn’t, of course, a leg to stand on, for the house is Dale’s out and out, but while she’s trying to see what she can work, she’s doing everything she can to make herself unpleasant. Just now I hear she’s taken a notion she wants her daughter to have Grandmother’s room, and because Dale has locked the door and doesn’t want it opened—wants to keep it just as her grandmother left it—the aunt has gone off to get a carpenter to break down the door. Can you manage to stop that, Mike? You see, Dale doesn’t know I know. Hattie, the maid, phoned me. I wonder if you can’t invent a reason for hanging around and helping out if it really comes to a showdown.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Granniss. I’ll find a way. Dale used to be a little pal of mine in her school days.”

The big policeman asked a few more questions and promised to do what he could to keep an eye on the house, and when he had hung up, he gave a few terse directions to some of his men and then went out, walking in the vicinity of the Huntley house, first encircling it at a distance until he had pretty well taken in everything that was going on. From different points he did some watching of the house, and it was how he came to finally see Aunt Blanche approaching purposefully up the street with a shambling, ancient carpenter carrying a small chest of tools in her wake. She had the appearance of towing him, like a truck and a trailer. Mike smiled grimly behind his hand and changed his position somewhat so that he could take in the whole situation.

Aunt Blanche came briskly up the steps of the house and let herself and her workman into the living room, not pausing to look for anybody but mounting the stairs determinedly, the carpenter obediently following her.

Mike, by this time, had crossed the road and put himself within hearing distance, for just then Aunt Blanche had her hands full and was not listening for rubber-shod footsteps behind her.

Dale stood at the head of the stairs, blocking the way to Grandmother’s room effectually.

But the aunt’s voice was determined and clear as she pointed to the closed door down the hall. “That is the door we want opened,” she said forcefully. “Someone has locked it, and we need to get in.”

But Dale stepped up in front of the carpenter. “No,” she said firmly, “we do
not
want that door open, Mr. Moxey. My aunt is mistaken. This house is mine, and I definitely do not want the door open. I locked it myself and do not wish it interfered with.”

“But lady, you said the
owner
wanted it open—” said the old man, turning puzzled eyes to Aunt Blanche’s angry face.

“You don’t understand, carpenter. I am really the owner of the house, though there are some legal matters to be attended to before I take possession, but I
must
have the door open at once, and I’ll pay you double what you asked if you do it at once without further discussion. Step aside, Dale, and let him pass. I simply won’t be interfered with.”

But it was not Dale but the policeman who did the stepping. He strode up the two remaining steps of the stairs and planted himself right in the way between Aunt Blanche and the closed door.

“Sorry, madam, I’ll have to interfere. This house belongs to Miss Dale, and she’s the only one who has a right to say whether her doors shall be open or not. So, Moxey, you better scram! You don’t do any carpentry work on this home unless Miss Dale Huntley hires you to do it. So scram! And do it quick if you don’t want me to take you to the station house.”

“Now look here!” said Aunt Blanche. “Who are you, I should like to know, and what business have you butting in on my affairs?”

“I’m the chief of police, ma’am, and this doesn’t happen to be your affair. It is entirely Miss Dale’s affair, and she says she doesn’t want her grandmother’s door open, so it doesn’t get opened. I’ve been asked to look after Miss Dale’s affairs and keep an eye on her house, and I’m doing it. I’ve known Miss Dale since she was a baby, and I don’t intend she shall be put upon. I don’t know who you are or what right you have in this house, but if you don’t belong here
, you
better scram, too.”

“The idea! The very idea! I’m Dale’s aunt, and I’ve come here to look after her affairs for her since her grandmother died. So, you see, she doesn’t need your care any longer.
I’m
here to do that.”

“No ma’am. You made a mistake. You ain’t Miss Dale’s guardian, and I happen to know she’s of age and don’t need no guardian no more. I’m just here to look out she ain’t bothered, not even by a so-called relative.”

“Oh! So that’s the idea,” said the irate aunt. “Dale sent for you, did she? And she asked you to protect what she chooses to think is her own. Well, Dale, I didn’t think you’d descend to sending for the police, but since you have, I shall have to send for my lawyer.”

“Send for all the lawyers you want, lady,” said the imposing policeman, “but you’ll still find you’re up against something bigger than lawyers, and that’s the law. But you’re wrong about Miss Dale. She didn’t send for me, and I didn’t know just how she felt about this door till I come up the stairs and heard her say she didn’t want it tore down, so I thought it was time for me to get to work. And now, lady, I’ll thank you to walk downstairs and to look out that you don’t make any more attempts to tear down this door or else I’ll have to take you to the station house.”

“Why, you—
you
—out
rageous
creature. To talk to a lady like that! I shall certainly report you and have you ousted from your job!”

Mike grinned. “Sorry, ma’am, I just made one mistake in this here transaction. I shouldn’t have called you a lady, I see, but we’ll let it go this time. Would you like me to help you down the stairs?”

“You let me alone. You take your hand off my shoulder this instant!”

“Okay, ma’am, just as soon as you scram!”

Aunt Blanche, as she felt the iron hand of the law tighten on her shoulder, scrammed rapidly, so that she almost fell full-length down the stairs, except for the firm hold of the policeman, which steadied her safely to the hall below.

Mike steered her to a comfortable chair, sat her down, and stood ominously before her.

“Now, ma’am,” he said grimly, “if I hear of any more doings like this, you may expect me around to escort you to the station house. I hope you understand!”

Then getting no answer from the frightened woman he turned and went out into the hall, where he addressed the anxious Dale who was coming down the stairs.

“Now, Miss Dale, if this so-called lady pulls any more pranks like this, just you send word to me. You still got Hattie, haven’t you? Well, you can have her call me on the phone if anything like this happens again, and I’ll be here before you can count to ten. I guess maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have your lawyer tell this person that you own the house, and if that doesn’t do the trick, I’ll take her down to the city hall myself and show her who owns this house. And now, is there anything more I can do for you before I go? I just stopped around to get a line on how many folks you had here. We had a report on some very noisy doings around here a couple a nights ago. I thought I better understand what to count on. Grandma never had such doings here, and I couldn’t rightly understand it. Thought I better come and ask you.”

Dale’s cheeks flamed scarlet with embarrassment. “Why—it was just some guests, strangers to me, who came to see my relatives. They brought some liquor with them. But they soon went away.”

“Well, Miss Dale, if anything like that happens again, you better call me up as soon as it begins. We’re tryin’ to put a stop to such doings in this township, you know. Well, thanks for the information, and call me again if you need me. Good morning!” And Mike tramped out the door and down the walk in his rubber soles, making a vague sound of law and order.

Dale did not go into the living room, where she saw Aunt Blanche getting ready for a showdown of words. Instead, she went quickly into the kitchen and almost fell over Hattie who was well placed by the crack of the partly open door in a position to hear all that went on in the front part of the house.

Quietly Dale steadied Hattie to a firm stand, and closing the door softly behind her, she then came near Hattie and whispered, “Hattie, did you telephone the police headquarters for Mike?”

Hattie opened wide innocent eyes. “Oh no, ma’am, Miss Dale. I never telephoned to no police headquarters. I’d be scared to death to do that.”

“Well, I wonder whatever started him here,” she murmured more to herself than to Hattie, but Hattie hurried over to turn the burner down under the stew she was concocting to hide a knowing glint in her innocent eyes. Was this the way Mr. Granniss had taken care of the message she had confided to him?

A few minutes later, Dale heard the front door open and close and footsteps going down the walk to the gate. She hurried over to the door and called, “Are you going far, Aunt Blanche? Because lunch is almost ready, and I know you like it really hot. And are the young people coming soon?”

Aunt Blanche’s voice came back coldly. “I’m sure I don’t know when they will be here. Whenever they please, I suppose. As for me, I’m going down to see my lawyer! I’ll see if this kind of thing can go on any longer.”

Dale closed the door softly and, leaning back against it, drew a deep breath and lifted her heart in thankfulness. Whatever was coming next, Aunt Blanche wouldn’t be likely to be here for lunch, and it would be good to have a little interval for anger to subside before there had to be any more family conversation.

But if Dale had known what was coming next, she might not have felt so relieved.

P
owelton and Corliss came rushing in an hour later, shouting to know if lunch was ready, and Hattie appeared quietly in the kitchen door and said that it was if they would sit down right away. She didn’t know that Dale was coming downstairs. She knew that she must be very much upset by what had gone on that morning, and of course these two young people had not likely heard of it all, unless they had met their mother, which didn’t seem likely. They were talking eagerly about the golf course where they had been playing that morning, and it didn’t sound as if they had been with their mother. They must have all taken whatever breakfast they took at the hotel. Perhaps only coffee. They were like that. And they had been at the party the night before, so they might have felt shy about coming to the house, not quite knowing how they would be received.

But the two youngsters were not shy, not they. They swarmed into the house as if they owned it and shouted out their wants. They chattered and they clattered, and Dale, hurrying downstairs to prevent any new kind of an outbreak, marveled at them, how easily the night before might have embarrassed them if they had any fine feelings at all. Apparently they had none, for they greeted Dale quite hostilely and demanded strong coffee and pie.

Dale had determined to try out a new system with them and see if she could not possibly win them to some kind of friendliness, just because she could not bear to have them go away with a feeling that she was their enemy. So she sat down, smiling, and asked them where they had been that morning, what they had been doing, and did they make good scores in golf? Asked about their hometown, what sports they liked best, where they went to school, and what studies they enjoyed the most, at which last question they hooted. Imagine anybody enjoying anything by the name of studies!

She did not attempt to enter into an argument on the subject, just skated on to other topics until finally she was rewarded by actually making them laugh at a story she told, and they looked at her with surprise that she could possibly be interesting when she talked. The haze of hostility that had up to this time surrounded their personalities began slowly to melt and the brother and sister grew almost voluble in telling their cousin several jokes and funny stories about their pranks in their school, and they laughed excessively.

Dale did her best to laugh with them, though there were a number of somewhat questionable pranks that really deserved a severe rebuke. But this was not the time, and she was not the person to administer it. Her object just now was to gain their friendship and find some congenial point of contact.

The climax was reached when the lemon meringue pie came in—a really dressy pie it was with piles of meringue in fancy forms—and the two young people received it with whoops of joy and almost seemed to be having a good time and to be glad they were there. They did their duty by the pie, each demolishing two more-than-normally large pieces and sighing that they were unable to hold a third. Then they sat back and talked some more on school and the things they were and were not going to do next winter when they went back.

It was while they were laughing and talking and Dale was taking a deep relieved breath that they had gotten through one meal without a single combat that the telephone rang.

It was Corliss who jumped to her feet and demanded to be allowed to answer it. But when the message began to come through she grew panicky. “What? Where are you speaking from? The Mercy Hospital?
Where?
Who
are
you, anyway? A
nurse
? Well, why are
you
calling
us
up? What? Yes, I’m Corliss Huntley. What do you want of me? Why should a nurse in a hospital want to speak to me? I guess it’s my cousin Dale Huntley you want, isn’t it? What? You say someone is hurt? Someone who knows me. Who is it? You say she was hit by an automobile? But
who
was it? My
mother
? But that can’t be so. She just went out a little while ago. She went down to her lawyer’s, they say. No, I don’t think she was in the neighborhood of that hospital. I don’t think she ever heard of it. You’re haywire. You’ve got your numbers crossed.
What?
You say it was Mrs. Huntley? Yes, Mrs. Blanche Huntley. Yes, that’s my mother’s name. Won’t you ask her when she is coming home? Tell her we are all through lunch!
What?
You say she is badly
hurt
? She isn’t
dead,
is she? Oh, she
couldn’t
have been run over by a car. She’s very careful crossing streets. What? You say she wants
me
? She wants
us, both
me and my brother? Yes, he’s here. But wouldn’t it be better for her to take a taxi and come back home? Oh
Powelton,
what shall we
do
?” And with a shriek that for once wasn’t planned for effect, Corliss flung the telephone from her and threw herself on the floor in a spasm of frenzied tears and screaming.