CHAPTER XXXIII

The motor passengers were in no haste to be gone, and they loitered,

watching the mad riders on their breakneck descent, now hidden, now

revealed again by a swerve of the road, a jut of hillside, or a group of

trees.

Forbes was sure at every vanishing that they would never come into view.

But they always did, and getting their horses in hand at last, finished

the hill with sobriety, trotted across the granite bridge, and turned to

wave good-by.

They were as small as dolls on toys where they jogged along the distant

high-road. A tiny motor-cycle, whose thumping flight was faintly audible

even at such a distance, whizzed round a curve and almost cut the

horses' feet from under them. The animals lifted their hoofs well out of

danger, but they came to earth again out of the cloud of dust, and

Forbes dared to resume the business of breathing.

He saw that Enslee was a well-schooled rider who annoyed his horse a

good deal, yet ruled him somehow. But Persis was perfect to the saddle,

part of the horse, as fearless and as expert in her smart gear as any

cowgirl of the plains.

Forbes watched her till the last curve blotted her from his sight, and

yearned after her like a child left behind from a picnic. He looked at

his own riding-costume ruefully, and said that he would better change.

But the others would not wait for him. Mrs. Neff urged:

"They're very becoming. Keep 'em on. You've got good legs, and you make

Willie look like a wishbone."

Enslee had sent his own driver and his own car to take them to the club,

and with an unusual thoughtfulness had ordered the robe-rack filled with

lilacs. And so they rode behind a screen of purple beauty, and breathed

in a spicy air filtered through flowers.

Forbes continued his search for a clue to last night's eavesdropper in

the manner of his fellow-passengers. They were all in high spirits,

which might be in any one's case either ghoulish glee or innocence. As a

matter of fact, Mrs. Neff's enthusiasm was owing to her knowledge that

Senator Tait was at the Country Club; but she did not tell Forbes lest

her daughter hear. Alice was rapturous in the knowledge that Stowe Webb

had arranged before she left New York to be at the club against just

such an opportunity as this; but she did not explain to Forbes lest her

mother hear. Winifred was buoyant because Ten Eyck had promised her a

few sets of tennis, and she saw herself already whole ounces leaner. And

Ten Eyck was cheerful because the world usually amused Ten Eyck when the

weather was fit. And to-day, as old Gower put it, "The weder was merie

and faire ynough."

Merry and fair enough for any wight, and the scenery wonderful. After a

few swift miles of country whose old walls, well-groomed meadows, and

shapely forests gave a look of England, the land rose higher and higher,

till the car swung out at last on a height commanding a river in the

utmost contrast with England's stream. As Ten Eyck put it, "The Thames

and the Hudson are as much alike as a pearl necklace and an

anchor-chain." The water came down between its hills in tremendous calm,

and the Palisades opposite were no longer sheer cliffs, but a congress

of ponderous masses like reclining gods along a banquet board.

The homes responded, of necessity, to the scene. In place of the

ballroom levels and exquisite parks along the reaches of the Thames,

with its flat punts and its houseboats moored in shady niches, these

lawns sloped and rolled in massive sweeps, fronting a mighty stream.

Forbes' heart could not rise to the bigness of the scene; it was too

much tossed between the hope that the next turn might reveal Persis,

spick and span on a glossy horse, and the fear that some of these

countless whizzing, hooting motors might frighten the beast into panic

and hurl her under the swarming wheels.

Ten Eyck seemed to note the anxiety that kept his eyes shuttling this

way and that, for he remarked, as if quite casually:

"Small chance of meeting Persis and Willie here. They said they'd try to

keep off the busiest roads, and Willie has probably got himself lost

somewhere in the twists and turns of Sleepy Hollow. Sleepy Hollow is

just where Willie belongs, all right; he is the most headless headless

horseman that ever threw a pumpkin. I'll bet he turns up late to

luncheon and makes a spectacular entrance on the back of his neck."

Ten Eyck was as nearly right as a prophet is required to be.

The car reached its destination without encountering Persis or Willie.

More majestic than the usual country club, that of Sleepy Hollow was

approached by a stately entrance gate. The road wound between broad

lawns, where children played among tropical thickets of veteran

rhododendrons tall as trees, and studded with flowers as big and

brilliant as Chinese lanterns. The club-house was a pile of creamy

brick, tall and spacious as a hotel. The servants were in livery, some

of them already in summer white, with dark collars and lapels--"to

distinguish them from the members," said Ten Eyck.

Ten Eyck and Winifred offered Forbes a racquet in their tennis game, but

he preferred to be alone with his loneliness. He accepted Ten Eyck's

suggestion, however, that he might care to go round the links, and Ten

Eyck procured him a bag of clubs and a caddy, promising him ample time

for at least nine holes before Persis could arrive.

Mrs. Neff, meanwhile, had vanished with Alice. She had learned that

Senator Tait was on the golf-course, and had dragged Alice forth. Mrs.

Neff loathed walking, but to-day she announced a determination to

reform. Alice went along with double reluctance. She lost her chance to

get word to Stowe Webb, who did not know she was coming, and she feared

she might find him on the links in some spot exposed to her mother's

far-sweeping vision.

Forbes, left to his own devices, and feeling like a dolt for golfing in

horse costume, dawdled about marveling at the luxury of the club and the

splendor of the views that met the eye everywhere within or without its

walls. At length he reached the golf-grounds squired by a lean little

caddy, who might almost have crawled into the bag of sticks and passed

for one of them.

With the usual luck of beginners and re-beginners at a game, Forbes did

his best work at the start. His first drive from the first tee drew such

a white arc across the sky that even the caddy was moved to an

exclamation of applause, hitched his sack on his shoulder, and set off

in search of the ball with vicarious pride.

The ball waited for Forbes in a position so good as to be almost

suspicious. It was an ideal brassy lie; but Forbes, thinking now of his

form, just missed it with surprising nicety, and sent gouts of turf

flying. According to the rules, he was to replace them; and, according

to custom, he affected not to see them. His score mounted rapidly while

he mauled the air and the grass around the ball, and when he finally got

away he had lost his temper and the respect of the caddie irretrievably.

As he worked his way up a steep ridge green and vast as the back of a

tidal wave he saw at the top of the height a bunker thrusting out into

the sky like the comb on the top of a Spanish woman's head. He paused

for his approach, to let two women clear the way. He recognized Mrs.

Neff and Alice, but they did not see him. Mrs. Neff seemed to be in a

mood of displeasure. There was vexation in her very heels.

Thinking the pathway clear, Forbes mumbled "Fore," and, picking the ball

up neatly in his iron, sent it over the edge of the bunker with a

hurdler's economy of gap. And just as it escaped the top a head arose,

followed by a pair of shoulders.

Forbes shrieked an _ex post facto_ "Fore!" but it was drowned in the

snort of pain and rage from the man, whose left shoulder-blade stopped

the ball.

As Forbes ran forward with abject apologies a glaring face peered over

the bunker and roared out:

"Damn it, man! Where do you think you--Why, it's you! Harvey, my boy!"

"Senator Tait!" Forbes cried, darting for one corner of the bunker as

Senator Tait dashed for the other. They paused, turned back, and made

for the opposite ends, stopped short foolishly in the middle, and

laughingly clasped hands over the ledge.

"I'll come round," said Forbes; and the Senator met him, put his arms

about him, and hugged him with a fatherly roughness. After he had told

Forbes how much he had grown and how fine he was, and Forbes had

exclaimed how young the Senator looked, the Senator hugged him again.

"I can't believe that you are yourself. The first time I saw you was in

your father's arms; you were about half an hour old, and your father

said you were very handsome. I couldn't see it at the time, but you've

improved. I wish he could see you now. I was with him, you know, when

his horse fell with him and--"

"Yes, I know," Forbes murmured. "You were his best friend--our best

friend."

"It's a shame that we've lost sight of each other. We mustn't any more.

Life's too short to waste in not seeing people we love. I must say,

though, I'm rather hurt at your not looking me up before. Mrs. Neff has

just told me you've been in town nearly a week."

"I--I've been very busy," Forbes stammered.

"So I hear, you young scoundrel!" Tait growled, jovially. "You're at the

heartbreaking, heartaching age, and no time to spend on old duffers like

me when young beauties are drooping on every bough. But what's this Mrs.

Neff tells me about your being rich? I hadn't heard it. I hadn't

expected it, either, for your father was a better fox-hunter than a

financier. What did you do--invent some new explosive--or a new gun?"

Forbes smiled bitterly and explained the foolish mistake, too foolish to

correct at first, and later embarrassing.

The Senator stared at him a moment searchingly with a tender

inquisition, then said:

"Unless you're golf-hungry, let's send the caddies back and have a

talk."

"By all means," Forbes agreed; and even as he cast his glance about in

search of his caddy he looked farther to see if Persis were not visible

somewhere from this Pisgah height. He was fond of the old man, but he

loved the young woman.