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"Then, of course, you will go to Shasta, and they'll take you to their place on the McCloud River. They say Falconer's house is the prettiest place of the sort in California. Mrs. Gaylor's never been, but she reads a lot about society folk and their doings in the papers. You'll sure have a good time." "Why do you say 'you'? They invited you, too." "Yes, and that was really kind," Nick said.
At a little distance Miss Dene was telling Nick Hilliard that she was glad she had met him, because he was just what she wanted for her book about California. "I'm going to see your ranch," she said, "and Mrs. Gaylor's ranch. I've heard about it and her. She's very handsome, isn't she?" "Yes," said Nick. "And a great friend of yours your best friend?"
But shall I take you to a kind old doctor I know, who can give you something to pick you up, or would you rather I'd drop you at a hotel? For I can't explain, so please don't ask but I mustn't let you go to Mrs. Gaylor's again. There's a good reason why. Maybe you'll know some time, but I don't believe it can ever be from me. I'll fetch your maid and your baggage when you're settled somewhere.
When the front door closed, he turned and searched the countenance of each of his companions. The butler had dropped into a chair muttering and beating his fist into his open palm. Gaylor's voice was hardly louder than a whisper. "Is this true?" he asked. Like a cur dog pinned in a corner and forced to fight, Rainey snarled at him evilly. "Of course it's true," he said.
Gaylor's being called suddenly away from home; that Carmen had never answered a short letter she wrote; all these things roused her suspicions. Indeed, she had even gone so far as to associate the box of poison-oak leaves with Mrs. Gaylor; and now the thought that the Spanish woman might have followed her to Tahoe sent a shiver through her veins. Who could the lady be, if not Carmen Gaylor?
Angela drew away quickly, the spell broken indeed. He sprang to his feet, his face, that had been pale, flushing. "It's Mrs. Gaylor's voice," he said, astonished and incredulous, as if at the call of a ghost. Carmen had been following from San Francisco, a day late, because once, in losing the trail, she had lost twenty-four hours.
He motioned Gaylor to bend nearer. In a voice that trembled with eagerness and excitement, he whispered: "Henry, I have a feeling that we are going to witness a remarkable phenomenon." Gaylor's countenance grew preternaturally grave. He nodded heavily. "I have the same feeling, Stephen," he returned. Vance raised his hand to command silence.
By one o'clock Saturday afternoon Gaylor's Cove was a scene of great activity. Two thirds of the High School students were there, most of them on skates. There were three or four hundred other youngsters, and more than a hundred grown-ups. "All we need is the band," laughed Dick Prescott, as he skated slowly along with Laura Bentley.
"Spiritualism," he repeated, "and that a bunch of these mediums have got him so hypnotized he can't call his soul his own, or his money, either. Is that true?" Judge Gaylor's outburst was overwhelming. That it was genuine Mr. Lee, observing him closely, was convinced. "Of all the outrageous, ridiculous" the judge halted, gasping for words "and libelous statements!" he went on.
"Oh, yes, I've met him at Mrs. Gaylor's." "Who's Mrs. Gaylor?" Theo had the curiosity to ask. Falconer told her, and described Mrs. Gaylor as being a beautiful as well as immensely rich young woman. "It must be over a year since her husband died," he added. "'Old Grizzly Gaylor' he was called; a brute, I'm afraid. His taking off must have been a relief to her. She's left with a splendid property.
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