CHAPTER IX

OFFICER O’GORMAN

Mary Louise returned to her room and sat down to consider the best way out of her dilemma.  The detective’s friendliness, so frankly expressed, pleased her, in a way, yet she realized his vigilance would not be relaxed and that he was still determined, through her, to discover where Gran’pa Jim was hidden.

An uncomfortable degree of danger had already been incurred by her unconsciously leading the officer to Dorfield.  He knew now that the man he was seeking was either in this city or its immediate neighborhood.  But unless she led him to the exact spot—­to the dwelling of the Conants—­it would take even this clever detective some time to locate the refugee.  Before then Mary Louise hoped to be able to warn Gran’pa Jim of his danger.  That would prevent her from rejoining him and her mother, but it would also save him from arrest.

Glancing around her comfortable room she saw a telephone on the wall.  Beside it, on a hook, hung the book containing the addresses of the subscribers.  She opened the book and glancing down its columns found: 

“Conant, Peter; r. 1216 Oak St. Blue 147.”

Why hadn’t she thought of this simple method of communication before?  It would be quite easy to call Mr. Conant and tell him where she was and have him warn Gran’pa Jim that a detective was searching for him.

She went to the telephone and took down the receiver.

“Office!” cried a sharp voice.  “What number do you want?”

Mary Louise hesitated; then she hung up the receiver without reply.  It occurred to her that the hotel office was a public place and that the telephone girl would be likely to yell out the number for all to overhear.

To satisfy herself on this point she went down stairs in the elevator and purchased a magazine at the news stand.  The telephone desk was near by and Mary Louise could hear the girl calling the numbers and responding to calls, while not six feet from her desk sat a man whose person was nearly covered by a spread newspaper which he appeared to be reading.  But Mary Louise knew him by his striped trousers and straightway congratulated herself on her caution.  Undoubtedly the detective had figured on her telephoning and she had nearly fallen into the trap.

Back to her room she went, resolved to make no further move till morning.  The day had been a hard one for the girl, mentally and physically, and at this moment she felt herself hopelessly involved in a snare from which she could see no means of escape.  She read a little in her magazine, to quiet her nerves, and then went to bed and fell asleep.

At daybreak Mary Louise wakened to wonder if she had done right in running away from Miss Stearne’s school.  Gran’pa Jim had placed her there because he did not wish to take her with him when he left Beverly, and now she had come to him without his consent and in doing so had perhaps delivered him into the hands of his enemies.  Poor Gran’pa Jim!  She would never cease to reproach herself if she became responsible for his ruin.