The Hays free press. [volume], July 11, 1908, Image 3

About The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924

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CHAPTER I.
T never quite knew how It was that
I took Vincent with me, except that we
both needed a holiday at the same
time and the came kind of holiday ap
pealed to us both. Vincent's whole!
name 'and title is Lord Wilfred Vin
cent, for he is the younger son of the!
old duke of Totten. Men of his own
age call him "Freddy," but I call him
Vincent or Wilfred, because I con
sider curtailed appellations undignified.
Vincent is an artist that is, he calls
himself one; mis friends call him "a
dabbler In art." He doesn't really go
in for it seriously, you know, but he
did little sketches of cows and that
sort of thing rather well, I fancy. So
we agreed that our aim was to find
a little old Tillage, far away from
London, and get rooms in some old
farmhouse. My Idea was that Vincent
would go out and paint the cows while
I would He in the hammock and the
old lady would bring me buttermilk.
Wilfred had an Idea that he, too,
would like to spend a good bit of his
time In a hammock, but with this dif
ference, that the old lady's beautiful
daughter was to bring him lemonade.
But I pointed out to him that tie
chief reason that I was running away
from town was to get rid of the
debutantes, and therefore he'd have to
leave the fair ones out of our air
castle.
Our plan was Just to bask in Nature,
and we had six weeks to bask in. The
foreign office doesn't seem to require
much of Wilfred's time and he doesn't
do anything else except "dabble." Of
course, being a younger son, he hasn't
A shilling of his own, but the old duke
makes him a comfortable allowance,
because he dotes on Wilfred as much
as he detests his eldest son, Edmund,
the heir to the dukedom. So, when
Vincent complained of feeling "all run
down" it was easy for him to get six
weeks off, although, as I tell him, he
has been getting "six weeks off" ever
since he left Oxford, two years ago.
lie Isn't 24 yet.
Nevertheless, Vincent Is one of the
best little chaps in the world. I don't
Mean that he Is undersized, for he
stands six feet two in his stockings;
but is so good natured, so jolly and
amiable ahd straight well Just natur
ally nice,, don't you know that every
body is "Just crazy about him," as the
American girl I met last summer used
to say, and all the men, young and old
alike, have gotten to calling him "lit
tle' Vincent" or "Freddy" from his
Eton days, just by way of endearment.
Of course, I'm much older than Vin
cent to be more exact, there's a mat
ter of 12 or 15 years between us but
I must say I can't help being drawn
to liim. I've known him ever since he
was born, and then, you see, we're
both Oxford men, belong to the same
clubs, and. of course, Terhune is as
old a name as Vincent, even if it hasn't
any handle to It, and, If I do say it,
there's never a dinner given In Lon
don town that Archibald Terhune is
not Invited. But, somehow, In this, nay
tenth season, I became utterly weary
of the limelight, the dinners, the balls,
the match-making mammas (for I am
an "eligible bachelor"), and. most of
11, the debutantes, with their edu
cated smiles and cultivated stares. I
felt that I must flee from London to
escape, and thus, as Vincent is al
ways ready for a holiday, we found
ourselves one fine day well started on
our jurney. We had taken the noon
train for Klngsbridge, and changing
there were to go on to Cuppstone,
which an artist friend of Vincent's had
recommended to us as just the place
we were looking tor.
"Jolly lark this." said Vincent, after
we had been some time on our way;
"only hope Cuppstone and Darner's
farm will be what we want. Graham
cracked It up to the skies."
'.'That's the trouble," I complained;
"when a thing's talked up too much
It's sure to disappoint one."
"Wait till you see it, old pessimist!"
aid Vincent, with a cheerful ' grin.
"Ifa got cows which provide butter-
isilk and art, and I've got some lem-
mm In mv criD for the lemonade. The
only thing that troubles me is the
landlady's beautiful daughter. I'm
afraid she'll be a minus quantity."
Then he put his feet across on my
side of the carriage and lit a nasty,
smelly, old pipe. That's the worst
of Vincent; he's so young he doesn't
talmk how a thing like that may get
a one's nerves. But I wouldn't hurt
his feelings for anything, and so I had
to let him smoke.
About three o'clock in the after
noon, when we had left the comfort
able carriages of the main line for
the ramshackle ones of the branch
line, we came to a sudden stop in the
center of a big stretch of meadow
land. A few miles away we could see
tie spires and roofs of a little village,
and, what was more noticeable, a big
castle, that stood on higher ground
some distance above the town, but
not far from where the train had
- stopped. I asked the guard what the
trouble was, and he told me that
something was wrong with the engine
and It might be a couple of hours be
fore we could go ahead.
.Just as he finished his explanation
Vincent, who had been looking put of
the window with ereol interest snnTiir
ta his at amA ahook nay shoulder
flflg.' , WALKERS
c!tedly
"Look there! ' Do !you see
them?" he cried, pointing at the beau
tiful meadows with their winding
stream and gentle slopes.
"See what?" T demanded somewhat
testily, adjusting my glasses and sur
veying the landscape without perceiv
ing anything of unusual Interest.
But Vincent, In a fever of haste, was
kneeling and unstrapping his golf
clubs. "Hooray," he cried, "Terhune,
a golf course as I'm a sinner. Come
on, we'll have some sport. The old
train's due to wait an hour, anyhow."
I looked again, and, sure enough, I
saw that at intervals the close-cropped
grass was dotted with little red flags
like sparks of fire on a carpet of
green velvet. Vincent has many fads,
but I think he is keener on golf than
anything else. .1 was disgusted with
bim. "Vincent," I said with decision,
"this is nonsense. You can wait till
we get to Cuppstone to play golf. Gra
ham said there were public links
there."
"Yes, and he also said that it was
the rottenest course he ever played
over," said Vincent with some heat.
"I made him admit it. And this one
is a beauty. A private one, I'll
wager. Look at that turf. It is just
like velvet, my dear fellow like vel
vet," and he swept a practiced eye over
the wide green slopes.
Now, I am fond of the game myself
within reason, and certainly the pros
pect was inviting, for I was tired of
the confinement of the carriage and
Vincent was most persuasive. I knew
it was a foolish thing to do; the train
might not stay so long as we expected
and we might get left; and yet, as I
say, it is hard to refuse Vincent any
thing. I unwillingly permitted him to
get out my clubs.
"Whose links are these?" I asked
the guard. "Do they belong to the
castle?"
"Yessir," replied the guard. "They
belong to Castle Wyckhoff, the family
seat of Baron Wyckhoff. They're all
dead now, though, all 'cept the Honor
able Agatha, and she lives in the cas
tie and owns . all these acres, sir, all
you can see," and the guard waved
his hand grandiloquently toward the
imposing old pile on the hillside and
the green meadows stretching away
far below it.
"She must havs money," I said, re
flectively. Vincent, meanwhile, was
hunting in his grip for an atrocious
red coat he wears when he golfs.
"Money?" repeated the guard.
"Money? Lor bless you, sir, she 'as
millions an' millions. Her own fa
ther was Baron Wyckhoff, but 'e died
when 'is darter were a little thing. E
never 'ad a shilling, but 'er stepfather,
that married Baroness Wyckhoff two
years later, was H'amerlcan and 'ad
more pounds than there is stones In
that castle, sir, an' arter 'is wife died
e ad the place built up again. An'
now they're both dead, sir, and 'is
stepdaughter, the Honorable Agatha,
as 'er title Is, sir, is heiress of all his
millions and 'er mother's estate.
"She ought to marry," I said, still
reflectively, and without any personal
meaning.
The guard smiled knowingly
There's many a one arter her, sir,
he said; "but they don't seem to make
no progress against 'er stepfather's
will."
"Her stepfather's will?" I repeated
with interest. "Do you hear that,
Vincent?
But Vincent, his beloved coat at
last found, was half out of the car
riage. "Come on, he shouted, "we're
wasting time." And I, perforce, was
obliged to follow him, although the
guard's story promised to be very In
teresting,
After we- had played the first, hole
and I had won (I seldom win a hole
rrom Vincent, so I was In a good
humor) I told him what the guard had
said. "So these grounds belong to the
Honorable Agatha," I concluded, "and
I have curiosity enough to wish that
we might behold this mysterious lady.
But Vincent wasn't a bit excited;
yon can never depend upon him when
he's playing golf. "Bosh!" he said
"I'd rather play on her links than ss
her. If she saw us she might put us
off. Ill bet she's a crabbed old maid,
I'm surprised at you, Terhune, with
your romantic notions. I thought you'd
left all that sort of thing behind you in
London.
I felt myself reddening slightly.
though I knew Vincent didn't mean
anything, and was about to make some
.retort when he drove off unexpectedly,
and I stopped in admiration of the
clean, fast shot he made. It. just
cleared a natural bunker and sped on
beyond,
At that instant a discordant mixture
of sound burst upon our ears, as thai
of a dog yelping and a vigorous scold
ing in a high but sweet feminine voice.
With' one accord we rushed up the
gentle rise, nd in the depression be
yond we beheld one of the handsomest
girls I had ever seen in my life. She
was bending over a setter puppy and
scolding him. The dog's yelps had
subsided to a whimper and he wax
holding up one of his paws as if ha
had been hurt. told you not to
come. Rudolph," she" was saying, -and
I told you to keep out of the way, and
Jtoid you you'd get hurt if you didn't."
S&e was a tall girl, hut beautiful!
proportioned, and wore no hat ca he
Hiiss of dark hair. When we got near
er we saw that her eyes were big and
b?ack, her profile perfect, and her col
li lug delightful.
Vincent capitulated at once and I
Ul him make his lmoression first.
He's the younger and it always seems
a shame not to give such a promising
boy a chance.
"I beg your pardon," he said, ad
vancing and baring his head, so that
the gold In his brown hair caught the
sunlight, "but would you tell me if
these are private links and to whom
tliey belong? I fear we are trespass
ing?" He said this just as if I hadn't
tcld him all about it.
The girl turned to him uncertainly;
tljen she smiled a wide, jolly smile of
g.od fellowship. I knew she would
they all do that at Vincent.
"Was that your ball?" she said, not
heeding his question. "I'm very sorry.
It hit my dog."
Vincent was all concern in a mo
ment. "WThat a shame," he said. "Did it
fcurt him?" and he knelt down to ex
amine the dog's paw.
"Oh, no, Rudolph's all right," she an
swered; "but It spoiled your drive, and
I'm sorry for that," and then she, too,
knelt on the grass beside the dog.
I felt that it was time to step for
ward. "My dear young lady," I said
she couldnt have been more than 20,
so I did not hesitate to address hsr
thus "My dear young lady, will yu
please tell us whether we are trespass
ing in using this court? To whom does
It belong?" You see, I had to pre
tend Ignorance to get more Informa
tion. I have many of the intuitions
that go to make up a great detective,
and I had a presentiment that this
girl was none other than the Honor
able Agatha Wyckhoff herself.
This proved to be the case. As I
addressed myself to her the girl rose
with dignity and replied: "I am the
Honorable Agatha Wyckhoff and I
own these grounds. So. you see, you are
trespassing."
But her tone was laughing and her
expression not at all severe, so I
promptly told her who we were, and
we shook hands, the Honorable Agatha
smiling at me somewhat the way she
had smiled at Vincent, though perhaps
a trifle more appreciatively.
"We didn't mean to," said Vincent,
"and I hope you don't mind. You'll
forgive us, won't jrou?"
The girl laughed, and it was a laugh
that I like to hear, not the silly, re
pressed giggle of a London debutante.
"She'll very nearly do," I thought,
"even if she isn't more than 20."
"Forgive you?" she repeated. "Of
course I will. I think it's great fun.
I haven't seen a new man for six
weeks."
I was wondering what she meant
by using the word "new" and waiting
for Vincent to reply, when, Instead of
answering her, he suddenly pointed
over my shoulder with a look of hor
ror. ''The train," he cried, "the train!
sure enougn, wnen l turned i saw
our train had started and, although
troving slowly, was well on its way
to the little town in the distance.
We were three-quarters of a mile
from the tracks by this time, and of
course pursuit was useless.
"Left behind," cried Vincent, dra
matically, and burst out laughing.
That's just like him he always
laughs at everything. For my own
part I couldn't see anything funny
about It. Here we were set down in a
Ifttle town that probably did not con
tain an inn, while our luggage traveled
merrily on to Cuppstone, all because
of a foolish whim of his. The girl
laughed, too, bo there was no use in
telling him what I thought of him then
"Well, what are we going to do?" I
asked sharply.
"Do?" echoed Vincent. "Why, with
her permission, we'll play a game of
Sold with the Honorable Agatha, and
then go on to the station, whatever its
name is, and take another train for
Cuppstone."
"Its name Is Wye," said the Honor
able Agatha, ."the town of Wye, and
that's a very good plan. That's just
' what we'll do."
And it was just what we did do. And
you should have seen that girl play
golf! By the time we had been around
' the 18-hole course I felt a little fatigued
one has to . keep in training to do
that sort of thing at a minute's notice
but Vincent and the Honorable
Agatha seemed as fresh as when we
started and proposed a race to the
station. I told them to run on ahead
and I'd meet them later, so away
they dashed, with Rudolph leaping and
barking in front of them, never doubt
ing that the whole thing was planned
for his especial benefit.
When I reached the station at last.
Instead of seeing about our train or
telegraphing to Cuppstone about our
late arrival, there was Vincent sitting
on the luggage-truck with that girl,
and, I am ashamed to say, he was hold
tng her hand. When they spied me the
girl tried to pull her hand away, bat
Vincent held on.
That you, Archibald?" he called, as
tf it could' have been ;; anyone 'else.
"Come on up here. -We've been tellins
fortunes, and Miss Agatha's hand Is
Very interesting. ; . . v , t
"No doubt," I answered, dryly; "ut
what have you done about telegraphing
to Cuppstone, and what train have you
found we can take?" r
"There Isn't any train," said Vin
cent, as cheerfully as if lie' were tell
ing me a bit of good news. "Only two
trains a day run through. -Wye from
London, and, ours was the last. - Any
way, your friend, the guard, thought
we ought to get off here and put off all
our luggage." -.--. . 3
I looked around in consternation and
there were our bo-xes, all plied neatly
at the far end of the platforsxu,
"For goodness" sake. Wilfred" I
rail him Wilfred, when I am angry- I
"said, turning n T7?ncent. Mto . w
again busy telling fortunes "do take
some interest. What are we going to
do? Isn't there a station master her
Wl-k AO, tall .o 1VI.
place, if there are any? I'm starving."
Vincent looked ud and aealn
smiled that irritating smile of his.
"Don't get hot," he drawled; "it's all
right. The Honorable Agatha has in
vited us to the castle and she's tele
phoned for the dogcart and a wagon for
oar luggage. Haven't you, Angel?" he
ended, turning his handsome bronzed
face to the girl, with one of his best
smiles, one of the kind he reserves
especially for the fair sex.
I frowned. Vincent really makes
advances too quickly.
"Why didn't you say so at first?" I
said, rather peevishly, as I sat down
on the steps to await the dogcart which
one could see already, a black speck
in the distance on the winding road
from the castle. The speck finally dis-'
appeared behind a clump of trees, and
when It emerged and drew up at the
station we saw what a stunning little
turnout it was. The horse was as
fine as any you'd meet on the Lady's
Mile, the harness was clinking and
shining with ornaments, and the cart
and the groom's livery were faultless.
The Honorable Agatha mounted the
box seat. "Christopher," she said to
the groom, "I'm going to drive. You'd
better, ride back with the 'trunks "
Then, before I had time to interfere,
Vincent leaped nimbly up to the seat
beside her and I was obliged to take
the rumble with Rudolph, who leaped
up beside me as if to his accustomed
seat. I was too anxious to get to the
castle and get something to eat, how
ever, to mind, and the Honorable
Agatha proving to be as good a whip
as she was golfer, we were soon
winding up the last gentle slope that
led to the big building. As we drove
down the long avenue another dogcart
approached us rapidly, and as it came
almost abreast, to my surprise I
recognized the young man who was sit
ting with the groom as young Murray
Brancepeth. He saw us at the same
moment and both dogcarts stopped.
"Hullo, Murray!" said Vincent and I
together.
But he never paid the slightest at
tention to us. Instead, he iumDed
lightly from his high seat and came
around to the Honorable Agatha's side
of our cart. Reaching up he caught
her hand.
"I don't care whether you're the real
Agatha or not," he said, hie dark face
flushed with the intensity of his feel
Ing. "You've got to marry me some
time. I'm not after money. I've some
of my own and I'll make some more.
When you're tired of this folly I'm
coming back for you. Good-by.'K And
he wrung her hand till the Honorable
Agatha winced. Then he was gone la
a rattle of gravel and dust.
We couldn't help hearing what he
said and he didn't seem to care
whether we did or not. But we could
hardly believe our ears. Young Mur
ray Brancepeth, that glided idler, de
claring himself the victim of a mighty
passion, and, more astounding still,
swearing that he would make some
money! He, who had never done any
work in his life besides that necessary
to bleed his rich old uncle of his living
expenses.
"What was it he said," I thought,
about the 'real Agatha and 'folly?'
What did it all mean?
as we arove up to the castle en
tranoe two (girls of about 19 and 20, I
should say, came tearing around the
corner, tennis racquets in hand, and
shrieked alwid. evidently with sur
prised deligi&t at seeing us.
"Oh, Aga tha," cried the foremost
of the two, a tall, brown-eyed, brown
faced sylph, with a profusion of wavy
and very disorderly brown hair. "Oh
Agatha, where did you get them? I'm
so tired of I srancepeth."
"Yes," crited the other one, "where
did they drop from? I thought you
were playing: gelf." She was a jolly
little thing, this second one, small, but
plump, with, fair skin and blue eyes
really very ;ttractive.
This was aomewhat embarrassing
to me, but Vincent stood there, utterly
unperturbed!, bowing with that easy
grace of hit j, as the Honorable Agatha
introduced us. But imagfne our sur
prise whftn she presented each of
those two young things as "the Honor
able Agaffaa Wyckhoff!"
"But I thought you were the Honor
able Agatha." I cried, unable to re
press my astonishment.
"So I am," she answered, smiling,
and we 'followed her into the house.
silent rut wondering.
(To 2e continued next week)
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