"Put on that motor-coat and the galoshes," he commanded."They'll cover you in case you have to run for it.I'm going to leave you here while I get you some clothes.If any of the servants butt in, don't lose your head.Just say you're waiting to see me--Mr.
Keep.I won't be long.Wait."
"Wait!" snorted the stranger."You BET I'll wait!'
As Fred closed the door upon him, the naked one was rubbing himself violently with Mrs.Keep's yellow golf-jacket.
In his own room Fred collected a suit of blue serge, a tennis shirt, boots, even a tie.Underclothes he found ready laid out for him, and he snatched them from the bed.From a roll of money in his bureau drawer he counted out a hundred dollars.Tactfully he slipped the money in the trousers pocket of the serge suit and with the bundle of clothes in his arms raced downstairs and shoved them into the coat-room.
"Don't come out until I knock," he commanded."And," he added in a vehement whisper, "don't come out at all unless you have clothes on!"The stranger grunted.
Fred rang for Gridley and told him to have his car brought around to the door.He wanted it to start at once within two minutes.
When the butler had departed, Fred, by an inch, again opened the coat-room door.The stranger had draped himself in the underclothes and the shirt, and at the moment was carefully arranging the tie.
"Hurry!" commanded Keep."The car'll be here in a minute.Where shall I tell him to take you?"The stranger chuckled excitedly; his confidence seemed to be returning."New York," he whispered, "fast as he can get there!
Look here," he added doubtfully, "there's a roll of bills in these clothes.""They're yours," said Fred.
The stranger exclaimed vigorously."You're all right!" he whispered."I won't forget this, or you either.I'll send the money back same time I send the clothes.""Exactly!" said Fred.
The wheels of the touring-car crunched on the gravel drive, and Fred slammed to the door, and like a sentry on guard paced before it.After a period which seemed to stretch over many minutes there came from the inside a cautious knocking.With equal caution Fred opened the door of the width of a finger, and put his ear to the crack.
"You couldn't find me a button-hook, could you?" whispered the stranger.
Indignantly Fred shut the door and, walking to the veranda, hailed the chauffeur.James, the chauffeur, was a Keepsburg boy, and when Keep had gone to Cambridge James had accompanied him.
Keep knew the boy could be trusted.
"You're to take a man to New York," he said, "or wherever he wants to go.Don't talk to him.Don't ask any questions.So, if YOU'RE questioned, you can say you know nothing.That's for your own good!"The chauffeur mechanically touched his cap and started down the steps.As he did so, the prison whistle, still unsatisfied, still demanding its prey, shattered the silence.As though it had hit him a physical blow, the youth jumped.He turned and lifted startled, inquiring eyes to where Keep stood above him.
"I told you," said Keep, "to ask no questions.
As Fred re-entered the hall, Winnie Keep was coming down the stairs toward him.She had changed to one of the prettiest evening gowns of her trousseau, and so outrageously lovely was the combination of herself and the gown that her husband's excitement and anxiety fell from him, and he was lost in admiration.But he was not for long lost.To his horror; the door of the coat-closet opened toward his wife and out of the closet the stranger emerged.Winnie, not accustomed to seeing young men suddenly appear from among the dust-coats, uttered a sharp shriek.
With what he considered great presence of mind, Fred swung upon the visitor "Did you fix it?" he demanded.
The visitor did not heed him.In amazement in abject admiration, his eyes were fastened upon the beautiful and radiant vision presented by Winnie Keep.But he also still preserved sufficient presence of mind to nod his head dully.
"Come," commanded Fred."The car is waiting."Still the stranger did not move.As though he had never before seen a woman, as though her dazzling loveliness held him in a trance, he stood still, gazing, gaping, devouring Winnie with his eyes.In her turn, Winnie beheld a strange youth who looked like a groom out of livery, so overcome by her mere presence as to be struck motionless and inarticulate.For protection she moved in some alarm toward her husband.
The stranger gave a sudden jerk of his body that might have been intended for a bow.Before Keep could interrupt him, like a parrot reciting its lesson, he exclaimed explosively:
"My name's Van Warden.I'm Harry Van Warden."He seemed as little convinced of the truth of his statement as though he had announced that he was the Czar of Russia.It was as though a stage-manager had drilled him in the lines.
