Christian fiction; Families -- Fiction; Love stories
He ran his eye down the pages, caught a word here and there,
technicalities of manufacture, the very items, of course, that he
wanted, if this had been the specifications for the Government order.
Shirley remembered with relief that none of the details were identical,
however, with the notes she carried in her shoes. The book-notes were
in fact descriptive of an entirely different article from that demanded
by the Government. The question was, would these people be wise enough
to discover that fact before she was out of their power or not?
Furtively she studied the boy. There was something keen and cunning
about his youthful face. He was thick-set, with blond hair and blue
eyes. He might be of German origin, though there was not a sign of
accent about his speech. He had the bull-dog chin, retreating forehead
and eagle nose of the Kaiser in embryo. Shirley saw all this as she
studied him furtively. That he was an expert in short-hand was proved
by the ease with which he read some of her obscure sentences,
translating rapidly here and there as he examined the book. Was he
well enough informed about the Government contract to realize that
these were not the notes she had taken in the office that morning? And
should he fail to recognize it, was there perhaps some one higher in
authority to whom they would be shown before she was released? She
shivered and set her weary toes tight with determination over the
little crinkling papers in her shoes. Somehow she would protect those
notes from being taken, even if she had to swallow them. There surely
would be a way to hide them if the need came.
Suddenly the tense strain under which she was holding herself was
broken by the man. He looked up with a grin, rubbing his hands with
evident self-gratulation and relief:
"That's all right, Girlie! That's the dope we want. Now we won't
trouble you any longer. We'll have supper. Hennie, you go get some of
that wood out in the shed and we'll have a fire on the hearth and make
some coffee!"
But Shirley, standing white and tense in the dim shadow of the room,
suddenly felt the place whirling about her, and the candle dancing afar
off. Her knees gave way beneath her and she dropped back to the piano
stool weakly, and covered her face with her hands, pressing hard on her
eyeballs; trying to keep her senses and stop this black dizziness that
threatened to submerge her consciousness. She must not faint--if this
was fainting. She must keep her senses and guard her precious shoes.
If one of those should fall off while she was unconscious all would be
undone.
CHAPTER XXV
The man looked up from the paper he was twisting for a fire and saw
Shirley's attitude of despair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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