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King sought to guess at what might be the emotions of a young girl going on with Gloria's present emotional adventure vain task of a mere man seeking to fathom those troubled feminine depths! marking that she was a little nervous and distrait. "I know the place Gus Ingle tried to describe," he said, "as well as I know my old hat. Or at least I'd have said so until he mentioned the third cave.
By nightfall the look in Gloria's eyes had altered, and a stubborn expression played havoc with the tenderer curves of her mouth. She resented at this late date King's way of going; not only had he not told her good-bye, he had left no word with her father for her.
His silence concerning his grief had been almost exemplary, and had been broken only now and then by a hasty exclamation of annoyance when Gloria's behaviour had irritated him beyond measure. He was the gentlest of men; and even when he had lost his temper with her, he had never spoken roughly. "You are hard to please, my dear," he had sometimes said.
King's shout then was to ring through Gloria's memory for days to come; he bore down on Swen Brodie, caught him about the great body, lifted him clear of the floor and hurled him downward. Brodie struck heavily, his head against the rocks. And where he fell he lay stunned or dead. "Come," said King to Gloria. "Come quick."
"And they froze Gloria's heart; so now she can't love you any more." "Well, they froze her heart, to be sure," admitted Pon, "but I'm in hopes I can melt it with my love." "Where do you s'pose Gloria is?" asked the girl, after a pause. "She left the witch's house just before we did. Perhaps she has gone back to the King's castle," he said.
"And I phoned your mother." "Was she ?" "She trusts you with me, Gloria," he said quickly. She let him help her into the car he had hired. Gratton took the wheel and turned into San Pablo Avenue. The street was deserted and he gently pressed down the throttle; he had hired a dependable, high-priced car, and the motor sang softly. The wind blew in Gloria's face and her zest came back to her.
It was not fair, he said, for the women folks to have all the fun they were to turn to now and see that he had his share. With Gloria's willing aid, he made out a modest little itinerary that would give them a sight of several places of interest. "The more the better!" Gloria said. "We're good for any number of 'em, aren't we, auntie?"
"I mean Mrs. Patch." "She out." Tana reassured him. "She be back five o'clock, she say." "Down in the village?" "No. Went off before lunch. She go Mr. Bloeckman." Anthony started. "Went out with Mr. Bloeckman?" "She be back five." Without a word Anthony left the kitchen with Tana's disconsolate "I tell" trailing after him. So this was Gloria's idea of excitement, by God!
Gilbert's voice, soft as maple syrup running into a glass container, had for him a quality of horror in its single "Hello-o-ah?" "Miss Gloria's not feeling well. She's lying down, asleep. Who shall I say called?" "Nobody!" he shouted. In a wild panic he slammed down the receiver; collapsed into his armchair in the cold sweat of breathless relief.
Sal repeated slowly. "Yes, where mother is, Sal. Shall I take a message to your mother for you?" "Tell her I ain't been beat once not nary." Pleasant Street was still "Treeless Street," to Gloria's regret. And they passed the same dreary succession of tenements. The same old little children played in the street. But at Dinney's House Gloria's eyes shone. "Oh, Uncle Em!
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