CHAPTER XXI

PERPLEXITIES

When Cecilia Thayer in her own little runabout, the Turtle, went over

the road to Mrs. Salvey's cottage, after the visit to the Hastings, her

alert mind was occupied with many questions.

She had advised the mother to go to court to account for her own child,

a most peculiar proceeding, but one insisted upon by a well-meaning

organization, the special duty of which was to care for children. What

sort of story Mrs. Salvey's relative may have told to bring such a

course about, neither she nor Cecilia knew. But at any rate a private

hearing was arranged for, and now Cecilia was on her way to fetch the

widow to town.

Driving leisurely along, for the Turtle could not be trusted to hurry,

Cecilia had ample time to plan her own course of action, should the

judge insist upon having Wren shown in court. This Cecilia felt sure

would be dangerous to the extremely nervous condition of the child, and

it was such a move she most dreaded.

"I will call Dr. Collins," thought Cecilia, "and have him state the

facts, if necessary. But then I would have to give an account of my

own part," came the thought, "and that would mean so much to me just

now."

The "burr r-rr-r" of an approaching automobile startled her. She

turned and confronted Rob Roland.

"Well," he exclaimed, his pleasure too evident, "this is luck. Were you

going to Aunt Salvey's?"

Cecilia was annoyed. But she had no other course than to reply that

she was going to the cottage.

"So am I," replied the young man, "and very likely our business is of

the same nature."

"I am going to fetch her into town to the hearing," spoke up Cecilia,

"and I have to hurry along."

"And I, too, was going to fetch her. She is quite in demand, it

seems," and he stretched his thin lips over his particularly fine teeth

in something like a sneer. "I wish I had known you were coming out; I

should have invited you to ride with me."

"Thanks," said Cecilia indifferently. "But I could hardly have

accepted. I had some calls to, make as I came along."

"Yes, I saw your machine at Hastings. How's the chap getting on?"

"Paul is almost better," replied Cecilia, making an effort to get out

of talking distance. But he knew exactly why she sent her machine

ahead, and while too diplomatic to actually bar her way, he, too,

opened the throttle to increase the speed of his car.

It was very aggravating. Cecilia had expected to have an important

talk alone with Mrs. Salvey.

Without a doubt this was also the very thing Rob Roland intended to do.

If only she could get Mrs. Salvey into her car. But if she should

prefer to ride with her nephew.

For some short distance Cecilia rode along without attempting

conversation with the young man who was driving as close to her car as

it was possible for him to do. Finally he spoke:

"Have you ever been in a courtroom?" he asked.

"No," she replied curtly.

"Then you are sure to make a hit. Bet your picture will be in the

paper to-morrow."

"What!" gasped Cecilia. "I understood this was to be a private

hearing."

"Nothing's private from the newspaper chaps. They make more of chamber

hearings than the open affairs. Always sure to be something behind the

doors, you know."

The thought flashed through the girl's mind that he was trying to

frighten her--to keep her away from the hearing.

"Well, I hope they have decent cameras," she managed to say

indifferently.

He glanced at her with a look that meant she would make a picture. And

in this, at least, he was honest, for the girl was certainly attractive

in her linen coat, her turn-over collar and her simple Panama hat. She

looked almost boyish.

"Better let me call Aunt Salvey," he said as they neared the cottage.

"But there she is--waiting for us."

Cecilia urged the Turtle slightly ahead, then stopped suddenly. She was

almost nervous with suppressed excitement.

"All ready?" she asked as Mrs. Salvey greeted first her, then the young

man.

"Yes. I wanted to be on time," replied the woman, stepping down from

the porch.

"Well, you cannot ride in two cars," called young Roland, "and this

is--if I must be impolite--the best machine, Aunt Salvey."

"But you had an appointment with me," pressed Cecilia, pretending to

joke. "I would not trust even Mr. Roland to get you there on time, so

I came myself."

"Of course," replied the widow, puzzled at the situation, "it was good

of you to come, Rob, but I must go with Miss Thayer. I had arranged to

do so."

"Just as you like," he said, tossing his head back defiantly, "but you

know it would look better. Oh, we know perfectly well where Wren is,"

he sneered, "and if you go to see her this afternoon I am going, too."

So this was his scheme--he would follow them to find the child's hiding

place.

Mrs. Salvey stepped into Cecilia's car. Her face was whiter than the

widow's ruche she wore in her black bonnet. She trembled as Cecilia

took her hand. What if she were making a mistake in trusting so much

to this young girl, and so defying her antagonistic relatives! What if

they should attempt to prove that she was not properly caring for her

child! And if they should take Wren from her!

"Perhaps I ought not to anger him," she whispered to the girl. "Do you

think I had best go with him?"

"After I have had a chance to say a word or two, you may get out if you

like," replied Cecilia hastily. "But I must caution you not to mention

where Wren is, no matter how they press you. If they insist upon

knowing I shall call Dr. Collins. That is the most important thing.

Next, don't tell who were the last persons who signed the promise book.

Now, you may get out and make a joke of it. I will trust to luck for

the rest."