“They’re troopers,” breathed Jack, as the car stopped beside them.
Two young men gazed searchingly at the two disheveled figures before them.
“What have you been doing?” demanded the man in the side car.
“Gathering wild flowers in the woods,” replied the girl promptly.
“Then where are they?” asked the other trooper, fixing his eyes on the red-stained handkerchiefs.
“Some we lost, and some we threw away,” said Jack.
“Give me those handkerchiefs,” ordered the red-haired trooper, hopping nimbly out of the side car.
In speechless astonishment the hikers handed the crumpled rags to the man, who took them to the driver of the motorcycle, and both troopers examined them carefully.
“Blood, without a doubt,” stated the auburn-haired man. “Guess we’ve made our catch. They certainly answer to the description of Crack Mayne and his pal, Angel. You’re under arrest,” he continued, turning toward the couple.
“What utter nonsense!” exploded Jack angrily, but Patricia laid her hand on his arm.
“We got those stains from flower stems,” she stated calmly.
“You’ll have to show us.”
“We can’t, now.”
“Why not?”
“Because we picked them all, and when we found that our hands were stained we threw the flowers away.”
“Oh, yeah? Where did you throw them?” asked the driver, getting off and starting towards the woods.
“They’ve gone down the stream,” giggled Patricia, her sense of humor unwisely getting the upper hand.
In later days, when Jack wanted to tease her, he always said that Patricia’s giggle sealed their fate.
“Quite clear they’ve been up to something,” muttered the red-haired trooper; “maybe a murder. You take ’em in, and I’ll poke about in there to see what I can find. Send Murphy out for me as soon as you get in.”
Patricia and Jack were hustled into the side car, and rushed off toward town. Soon Jack took from his pocket a pencil and an envelope.
“Better give middle names at the station,” he scribbled rather illegibly, due to the motion of the car. “Keep college out of it.”
Patricia nodded; then Jack tore the envelope into little pieces, which the wind eagerly snatched from his hand and bore away.
At the station, they registered as Peter Dunn and Alice Randall. The stained handkerchiefs were laid aside for expert examination, and the charges recorded.
“Now may we go?” asked Jack, with elaborate innocence.
“Why, sure,” replied the sergeant sarcastically. “Just walk right out.”
“Hullo, Mac,” drawled an exceedingly tall, solemn-looking youth, letting the street door close with a bang. “What have you for me tonight?”
“Only a couple of—” he began.
The newcomer took one look at the pair; then announced without a trace of surprise: “You’re Jack Dunn, the football player.”
“Twin cousin,” corrected Jack gravely.
“Oh, yeah!”
“Haven’t you ever seen cousins who looked just alike?” inquired Jack, raising his eyebrows in astonishment. “I have.”
“That may be, but I didn’t see you on the field and off of it last fall for nothing. What’s the racket?”
Before Jack could reply, the sergeant irritably gave the desired information, the last of which was drowned by a bark of laughter from the human bean pole.
“This is rich! This is just too rich!” he chortled. “Brave troopers arrest couple of college students for gathering bloodroot. Oh! Oh!”
“So that’s what it was!” exclaimed Patricia. “I should have known.”
“You’re a reporter,” said Jack accusingly. “For the love of Pete don’t put us in the paper. We—”
“Now listen, Bozo,” interrupted Craig Denton, “don’t kid yourself that nobody will know this story unless he reads it in the paper. One of your own fellows stopped in at the office before I came over here to say that a couple of college students had just been taken into the police station. That’s how I happened to breeze in so early, Mac.”
“What did he look like?” demanded Jack.
“Big blond; jaw sticks out like this; little bits of eyes.”
“Tut!” breathed Patricia.
“How the devil did he get hold of it?” exploded Jack.
“Saw you brought in,” replied Craig, as he held the door open for them. “I’m taking these birds home, Mac,” he called to the sergeant. “So you see,” he continued, as they were out on the street, “you’d better let us present the story truthfully. It’s the best way.”
“Of course,” replied Jack, ruefully, “you have us at your mercy.”
“What did the troopers look like?” asked Craig.
“I couldn’t describe them,” declared Jack emphatically.
“Nor I,” agreed Patricia. “We were too much upset to notice details.”
“I wonder,” mused the newspaper man, glancing from one to the other suspiciously; but both met his eyes with well simulated innocence.
“We’re going somewhere to eat,” announced Jack; “better come along.”
“Yes, we surely owe you something for your kind rescue,” laughed Patricia.
“There’s an old saying about two being company,” began Craig.
“Nonsense! Come along!” cried Jack, who had taken a liking to the grave youth with his keen sense of humor. “Where shall we go, Pat?”
“Wherever we won’t meet anybody we know. We’re both sketches.”
“No wonder we were regarded as suspicious characters,” agreed Jack. “Guess we’d better go downtown. Where’s a good place?” turning to the reporter. “We usually eat up on the hill.”
“The Exeter, on Field Street, is good. Got stalls; you wouldn’t be conspicuous.”
“Exeter for us,” decided Patricia; “and let’s hurry. I’m starved.”
After a good dinner, accompanied by much joking and laughter, Jack escorted Patricia up toward College Hill, while Craig hurried back to the office of the Granard Herald, after promising to spare the principals as much as possible in his story.
“Little did we think this noon what we were in for,” said Jack, as he was about to leave Patricia at the entrance of Arnold Hall. “I’m sorry to have gotten you into such a jam.”
“You!” protested the girl. “Why, it was all my fault. If I hadn’t picked those flowers—bloodroot’s certainly the right name for them.”
“But if I hadn’t urged you to cut—”
“Oh, Jack, we had a good time; and, as for the unpleasant part, well, it didn’t last long. And it was an unusual experience.”
“But it’s not over yet; all the publicity, and talk. Of course, I could stand it; but—”
“You think I couldn’t!” finished Patricia with a flash