Billie Bradley and the School Mystery: or, The Girl From Oklahoma

CHAPTER XV
AN UNEXPECTED DUCKING

The trouble with Billie Bradley’s knee did not improve during the days that followed. Although, assisted by her chums and Edina Tooker, she rubbed it faithfully with arnica each night, she still showed far from her old form on the tennis courts.

She was forced to suffer the constant taunts of Amanda Peabody and Eliza Dilks. Instead of making reply, she closed her lips tight and said nothing.

“Why not tell them your knee is in bad shape?” cried Laura on one occasion when Amanda’s caustic comments had aggravated her almost past bearing. “You let her stand there and say all sorts of things and never come back with a word in your own defense. I must say I’m disappointed in you, Billie.”

Billie shook her head stubbornly.

“I’ll not excuse my failures,” she said.

“Well, then, let me excuse them – or Vi or Edina here. We’ll undertake it with the greatest of pleasure.”

Billie remained adamant.

“It would be just as bad to have you making excuses for me. No, sir, if I have to take a beating, I’ll take it right!”

Although her chums understood Billie’s attitude and, in their own way, sympathized with it, no attempt was made to underestimate the dire effect of Billie’s temporary indisposition upon their hope of victory in the fall tennis tournament, now close at hand.

“It isn’t only Billie who may be defeated. It’s our whole crowd that’ll go down in the crash – at least, our pride will crash,” sighed Vi to Laura one day.

“I know. But there’s no use arguing with Billie when she’s in this mood,” was the response.

On the courts, Billie and Amanda Peabody had long been rivals. Amanda was a spectacular player with speed and power, but apt to prove erratic, especially when the play went against her.

Billie was steady, careful, sure, coolest in an emergency.

It was pretty to watch the two on the courts; it was always interesting; it was even apt to prove dramatic.

To Billie, tennis was a well loved sport. On the courts all personal enmity was forgotten, all private grudges temporarily wiped out.

Not so, however, with Amanda. This girl, while having developed excellent tennis form, was a bad sport both on and off the courts. She, unlike Billie, carried her private grudges with her and was only at top form when winning.

This year, however, it began to look as though Amanda Peabody would win. With Billie so far from top form, there was no one at Three Towers capable of giving Amanda “a good run for her money.”

Billie regarded her chums with troubled eyes.

“If only one of you could train in my place – ”

“Don’t look at me!” cried Vi, in alarm. “You know I am a perfect dub on the courts.”

“You are getting better all the time.”

“It would take me from now to eternity to get good enough to beat Amanda. Don’t pick on me, Billie. You know very well I’m out.”

Billie looked at Laura, who giggled and raised her hand as though to ward off a blow.

“I’m good – I admit it – on the courts, as elsewhere. But not nearly good enough. Take Edina here,” she added, with a mischievous glance at the “lion cub.” “She looks like your one best bet.”

Edina grinned.

“Me! I can bust the insides out of a ball when I hit it, but my racket and the balls, they seem to be just born enemies. They never git close enough together to be friends.”

Laura chuckled.

“I’ve watched you miss more balls this week, Edina Tooker, than I thought there were in the world!”

Billie sighed and rubbed her knee reflectively.

“Well, it seems to be up to me. And I’m a total loss. I guess Amanda will walk away with all the honors this season.”

“It’s more than I can bear!” Vi stood for a moment in deep thought. Then said eagerly: “You know, Billie, I’ve a hunch about that knee. You’ve been working it too hard. I’ll bet if you had absolute rest for a week, never went near the courts, it would be a heap more profitable than all this violent exercise you’ve been putting yourself to.”

“But I need the practice,” Billie protested. “My form is terrible.”

“Your form is just as good or bad as your knee. Get that into shape, and I’m willing to bet your form will take care of itself.”

“Sounds like sense to me,” Laura abetted her. “Why not try it, Billie? I tell you what! Ted has been at me for a long time to get up a picnic on the lake. To-morrow’s Saturday. How about it, everybody? Any objections?”

“Not a one, that I can think of,” returned Billie, with a smile. “This is excellent picnic weather and we want to make the most of it.”

“Before the lake gets frozen over with ice,” chuckled Laura. “All right. I’ll tell Ted it’s a go.”

Edina shied like an unbroken colt at the mention of boys.

“We git along together like rattlesnakes and coyotes. I don’t like them and they don’t like me no – any – better. You’d better leave me out of this here picnic. I’ll spoil it all for you.”

“Nothing doing!” said Billie decidedly. “You no go, I no go either. The boys don’t bite and I’m sure you don’t, ’Dina.” With a severity, belied by the twinkle in her eye, she added: “You’ve got to learn to get along with the boys, you know. It’s an important part of your education.”

A few minutes over the telephone were sufficient to arrange with the boys for the following day’s fun. A few moments more in the kitchen provided for the hearty appetites of a healthy group of boys and girls. Clarice promised to put up a hamper of good things that would make “yo’ eyes pop clean out o’ yo’ haids.”

“Now all we have to do,” said Laura contentedly, “is to go to bed and pray for a clear day to-morrow.”

Surely, the following day might have been an answer to any one’s prayer for fine weather. It was one of those lovely early fall days when the sun warms the blood and the tang of crisp air sets it dancing.

“Oh, I do love this time of the year!” Billie’s face glowed above the woolly white sweater she was wearing for warmth’s sake. “It makes me feel equal to meeting and beating Amanda Peabody, even with one knee out of joint!”

“The way you look to-day, you could meet and beat any one with both knees out of joint,” declared Laura loyally.

It had been decided the day before that the boys would row across from Boxton and pick up the girls at the Three Towers’ dock.

Their part of the bargain was so promptly kept that the girls had barely reached the boathouse when they descried the fleet of rowboats coming toward them across the lake.

“There come Teddy and Chet – ”

“And Ferd Stowing. But who’s the fourth?”

“Paul Martinson, probably,” said Billie. “Chet said he might come along.”

Billie cast a sidelong look at Edina, and was quite satisfied with what she saw.

The girl from Oklahoma wore a white sport coat – recently added to her steadily growing wardrobe. The sport coat topped a white, fuzzy skirt and a silk jumper adorned with a flaming, scarlet tie. On Edina’s feet were white sport shoes of an approved style. Her legs were encased in immaculate, unwrinkled white silk stockings.

The improvement in Edina was more than “clothes deep,” however, a fact of which Billie was very well aware. The girl had acquired a new poise, a dignity which was very attractive. Moreover, her disposition had improved signally. She was not nearly so ready to claw and scratch as she had been a short time since. The “lion cub” was surely becoming civilized.

“You look stunning, Edina,” Billie said. “The boys will love you.”

Edina turned on her a look of panic.

“I’m plumb scared to death,” she confessed. “I’d like to go hide in a hole!”

The boats scraped against the dock and with whoops as of Comanche Indians, the boys leaped to the dock to capture the girls and the lunch baskets.

Chet Bradley came first. He was burned a deep brown by the sun and was as full of animal spirits as a gamboling puppy. He dashed up to the girls, gave Vi a paternal pat on the shoulder, pulled Laura’s ear and Billie’s hair and – stopped short at his first sight of Edina Tooker.

“Hello!” he stammered. “I don’t think I have had the pleasure – ”

“Oh, Chet, this is Edina. She’s very much the rage with us, and you’ll like her, too. I’m counting on you boys to give her a good time.”

“Righto!” replied Chet, grinning cordially. “We’re fast friends already, aren’t we, Edina? Come along, fellows,” beckoning to the other sun-tanned lads. “Step up and be presented. If you like it as well as I do, we’ll all have a very swell time!”

Edina was blushing furiously. Billie wished she were not, because it was unbecoming to her. However, the other boys seemed to like her and they were soon chatting and laughing together in a chummy and highly satisfactory manner.

The lunch baskets and the assortment of bright-colored cushions contributed by the girls to lend comfort to the trip were quickly put in place, and the girls invited to follow.

As Edina hesitated, lagging behind the others, Paul Martinson linked his arm through hers and led her toward his boat.

“You come with me,” said the young cadet, with a masterful air.

Behind Paul’s back, Billie winked mischievously at Edina.

“Without even fishing, you’ve made a good catch,” she whispered mischievously. “Hang on to it!”

Whether this pleasantry confused Edina, or whether the girl, hating and fearing the water, slipped as she was about to enter the boat, no one ever knew. At any rate, she lost her footing in some way, pushed the rowboat outward as she fell, and plunged headlong into the deep water at the end of the pier!

“She can’t swim a stroke!” cried Billie, and without an instant’s hesitation followed the girl into the chilly water.

Billie dived for Edina but could not locate her.

“She has been caught under the dock!” Billie came up for a breath of air and dived again. This time she, too, came up under the dock. She bumped up against something that was only a fuzzy white blur in the water and cried in her heart: “Thank goodness!”

A long nail had caught in the wool stuff of Edina’s skirt and held it fast.

Billie’s lungs seemed to be bursting, but she worked at the cloth so frantically that the nail came out of the rotted wood.

As she felt herself begin to sink again, Edina twisted in the water and wrapped both arms about Billie’s neck with the desperation of a drowning animal!

CHAPTER XVI
FIGHTING FOR LIFE

Locked in Edina Tooker’s unbreakable embrace, Billie Bradley gave herself up for lost.

Edina was stronger than she, and now her strength was the desperate strength of mortal fear.

Billie writhed and twisted, striving to wrench herself free; but in her heart she knew her efforts were vain. Edina’s grip was the grip of madness. She was dragging them both down to death.

Billie wondered why her lungs did not break with the fearful pressure on them. After a long moment of agony she almost wished they would break – to have done with the torment.

Suddenly something swam close to her. There was a sharp jolt and, through glazing eyes, Billie saw Edina’s head snap backward. The hard grip about her neck relaxed, the weight that had been holding Billie to the bottom of the lake slumped away.

Billie felt suddenly as light as air. With all the strength that remained to her, she fought her way to the surface of the water.

Like a benediction, air swept into her tortured lungs. She lay upon her back and let herself float, gasping.

Edina was safe, she knew. It was Paul Martinson who had dealt the merciful blow on the point of Edina’s chin, saving her life and Billie’s. Paul would take care of Edina. Paul liked Edina —

Billie felt hands tugging at her, pulling her up on something that was hard and rough. The pier!

“Were you going to lie there forever and catch your death of cold?”

It was Vi’s voice scolding, and Billie thought no voice had ever sounded so pleasant in her ears.

She was being pulled to her feet now, supported by loving arms, a ring of anxious faces about her. They were all scolding her, but she did not care. It was nice to have someone care whether she was alive or not.

“Edina?”

“Edina’s all right. Paul has her. Now we are going to smuggle you both up to the hall and into dry clothes before you die of pneumonia, or something equally uncomfortable. Come along!”

While Paul Martinson ruefully wrung out his sodden clothes, refusing meanwhile to listen to a word of thanks, Billie and the half-dead Edina were hustled to the Hall for a change of raiment.

They approached the house by a circuitous route, carefully avoiding the groups of girls loitering in the school grounds. Entering by Clarice’s immaculate kitchen and leaving a telltale stream of water across it, they hurried up the back stairs and by great good fortune managed to gain the dormitory unobserved.

“Now get out of those dripping clothes and be quick about it,” ordered Laura, then added with a heartless giggle: “Two such drowned puppies I never did see.”

“You needn’t laugh,” retorted Billie, stripping off her wet stockings. “For a second or two, there we were as near being truly drowned as I ever care to be. How about it, Edina?”

The girl turned a stricken face to Billie.

“It was all my fault!” she said, in a low voice. “You tried to save my life and I paid you back by doin’ my best to drown us both! Seems I’ll never get over bein’ ashamed o’ myself.”

It was a full ten minutes before the combined efforts of the girls reassured Edina to the extent of persuading her to exchange her dripping outfit for a dry one.

“Tell me what you want to wear and I’ll sneak down the back stairs and get it,” offered Laura. “In your present low mood,” she added, with a chuckle, “I’d be afraid to leave you alone. You might hang yourself to the nearest convenient chandelier.”

“I might, at that,” returned Edina, with a reluctant smile. “I don’t know why you girls are so nice to me. I sure don’t deserve it.”

“People so seldom get their deserts in this life,” chuckled Laura. She tossed an impish smile in the direction of Edina’s long face and disappeared.

She reappeared a few minutes later with an armful of clothes and an exciting account of the adventures encountered in their acquisition.

“I just missed Miss Johnson and bumped head-first into Debsy. ‘Must you dash about in this frantic manner?’ inquired Debsy in a hurt voice. If I’d stepped on her toe she couldn’t have sounded more injured! Here, Edina, these are all I could find. Hope they’ll do.”

“Guess they’ll have to.” Edina regarded Laura’s offering without enthusiasm. “But I won’t look near as nice as I did before. I spent an hour gettin’ ready for that duckin’ out on the pier.”

The girls giggled hilariously.

“Love’s labor lost,” said Vi, wiping her eyes. “Edina, you are putting a lot of joy into my life!”

So they made a joke of what easily might have been a tragedy. When they rejoined the boys on the dock, Edina had lost much of her former self-consciousness and was ready to laugh with the rest over what she termed her “clodhopper clumsiness.”

“Where’s Paul?” asked Billie.

“Gone to change his clothes,” replied Teddy. “He hasn’t yet learned the art of falling into the lake without getting wet.”

“Said he’d join us at the island,” added Ferd Stowing.

They made a great to-do about launching Edina safely. Ted and Chet and Ferd held one of the rowboats close to the pier while Laura and Vi, doubled with laughter, assisted their new friend into the craft. Edina looked red and sheepish, but she joined in the good-natured merriment at her expense. Edina was learning!

“Stand back, Billie,” cried Laura. “If this girl tries another high-diving act, it’s our turn to dash to the rescue. Look out there! Ah, now she’s all right! Come on, everybody. Let’s go!”

The little fleet was launched safely at last – Vi and Laura both in Chet’s boat, since Paul Martinson was missing.

They had gone only a few hundred yards from the dock when they saw Paul himself rowing toward them from the direction of Boxton Military Academy.

“Didn’t take him long!” shouted Billie, from her comfortable place in Teddy’s boat.

“Ain’t boys wonderful!” Laura shouted back.

Having arrived at the island, which was well out in the lake and removed by a considerable expanse of water from both Boxton Academy and Three Towers Hall, the boys and girls disembarked and began the real business of the day.

“Take care of those lunch baskets,” shrieked Billie, as the boat in which they were rocked perilously. “Ferd Stowing, you nearly dumped them in the lake!”

“Well, I can’t take care of both the lunch and Edina,” asserted Ferd, grinning. “Lend me a hand, someone!”

At the thoughtless words of the lad who would not willingly hurt a fly, Billie saw Edina color painfully.

“All this fun at Edina’s expense has gone far enough,” she thought indignantly. “It’s got to stop! I could slap Ferd Stowing!”

“Why the frown, l’il Billie?”

Billie looked up to find Paul Martinson at her elbow, smiling quizzically down at her.

“You look mad enough to bite a nail in six pieces,” continued the lad. “Just what appears to be wrong?”

An inspired thought chased the frown from Billie’s face. She smiled at the tall, good-looking young cadet.

“Paul, will you do me a favor?”

“Dozens of ’em!”

“Then be nice to Edina Tooker, will you? Awfully nice?”

Paul looked quizzically in the direction of the girl to whom he must be nice – awfully nice. Then his glance returned to Billie.

“That shouldn’t be hard,” he said. “I think she’s a ripping girl, really. Regular stunner.”

“Oh, do you?” Billie’s lovely face glowed with delight. “Oh, Paul, I’m so glad! That takes such a terrible weight off my mind!”

Paul’s eyes rested questioningly on the pretty face for an instant, then he said in an odd tone:

“Billie Bradley, you are quite the nicest girl I have ever known!” With the words, he walked over to Edina and proceeded to monopolize her completely and thoroughly for the rest of that day.

Teddy Jordon came up to Billie as she stared after Paul Martinson’s straight young back.

“What were you and Paul whispering about?” Teddy demanded jealously. “If he has anything to say to you, can’t he say it out loud?”

Billie glanced at him fleetingly and laughed.

“Don’t be a silly, Ted. Paul just promised me to be nice to Edina. And he has started right in to keep his promise, bless his heart! Come and help me get the lunch fixed.”

The boys had brought frankfurters, a huge bag of rolls, butter, and a dozen ears of corn. Also they had brought the utensils to cook them in.

“Why did we bother with chicken sandwiches and cake?” Laura wanted to know. “If we should sit down and eat steadily for three solid days, there would still be some frankfurters left. Are you boys quite mad?”

“My good child, that remark just goes to show how greatly you misjudge our capacities,” said Chet, busy over the fire. “I’m ready to bet right now that there won’t be a sandwich or a frankfurter left – cracky, that fire’s hot!”

“It’s apt to be, especially when you put your hands in it,” observed Vi unfeelingly. “Hi, Billie, what you got?”

“Letters,” returned Billie, waving them. “I put them in my pocket before I left and promptly forgot all about them. Here, Edina, is one for you. Catch!”

Edina caught the letter just as it flew past her, in the nick of time to save it from landing in the midst of Chet’s fire.

“Good catch,” applauded Paul, standing close to her. “Open your letter, if you like. I’ll excuse you. I’ll even turn my back.”

Since Paul kept his word, it so happened that Billie was the only one facing Edina when the girl opened her letter. So also it was Billie who rushed forward, alarmed at the girl’s sudden waxy pallor.

“Why, Edina dear! what is it? Have you had bad news?”

Edina stretched out a hand as though to push Billie away. Her color returned in a hot wave. She spoke in a thick tone, wavering and unsteady.

“There ain’t nothin’ – anything – wrong. Please don’t notice me. I’ll – be all right – in a minute.”

So it was Billie, staunch friend that she was, who turned the attention of the young folks into other channels, who kept up a running fire of nonsense, under cover of which Edina was once more able to resume command of herself.

The fact that the girl slipped the letter into her pocket without reading to the end of it did not pass unnoticed by Billie, nor the fact that Edina was distrait and silent for the rest of the long afternoon.

“That letter was a terrible shock to her,” thought Billie. “I’d give almost anything I own to know what was in it.”