Don't Pick Me

CHAPTER VIII

Jerry stood a second in the aisle, speechless, and stared at the Cricket.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded finally.

"I'm going north with you. I told you I would."

"Get up and get your clothes on this minute," he ordered peremptorily.

"Not on your life, Jerry dear. I always lie abed late," she retorted, closing the curtains.

His first impulse was to jerk them apart, and set the rebellious imp upon her feet, but second thought convinced him that public opinion would be against that move. He hurried off to send another wire to Wally, phrased thus:

"Just discovered Isabelle on train. What shall I do with her?"

Then he made an agitated toilet and went back to his seat. The car was in that unspeakable state of vile air and half-dressed strangers which makes Pullman cars such a horror in the early morning. Jerry decided he could not bear it.

"Isabelle," he said, addressing the curtains, "get up and come to breakfast."

"I don't care for any breakfast, thank you, Jerry," she answered sweetly.

He went to the diner with a sigh of relief. He tried to contemplate his situation calmly. The Bryce child had certainly scored. No amount of protesting would ever convince Althea Morton of his innocence, because she had warned him against Isabelle's wiles. He could count on Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon's championing. Certainly he had disappointed her, but she could not believe him such a cad as to have run off with the Bryce girl. He did not worry about the distracted parents. He expected them to be prepared for anything from their undisciplined offspring. He pictured them, sighing with relief, that she was off their hands and upon his!

The next thing was what to do about the predicament? Would he better take her off at Jacksonville and wait for her father to claim her, or should he continue his journey with her to New York? What could he do with her then? He decided to leave it to the Bryces; they would have to arrange the details. His belief was that Wally would follow to Jacksonville, on receipt of the second telegram, so that would mean only the delay of a day for Jerry.

On his return to the other car, Isabelle's berth was still occupied. He read his paper, spent an hour in the smoking-room. Still she did not appear. All the other berths were made up, and the usual curiosity centred in the one late riser. Jerry decided not to be present at her entrance so he betook himself again to the smoker and stayed until noon.

When he returned this time, she was up and properly ensconced among her belongings. She smiled exuberantly, as Jerry came toward her, the focus of all eyes.

"Good-morning, Jerry dear. Isn't this jolly?"

"You ought to be spanked!"

"Oh, come off! Don't use that stage-father tone. I hoped you would be glad to see your little Cricket, Jerry."

"Well, I'm not."

"You may as well cheer up, because, glad or mad, you've got to see me."

"What on earth made you do such a crazy thing?"

"I couldn't stand it to be left alone with that dull bunch. I told you I'd come north with you, and I always do what I say I will."

"It must be comfortable to be so unhampered by consideration of others!"

"What others?"

"Your parents."

"Oh—them!"

"And me."