Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/254

 to her bosom, and she stood there, pale, and almost swaying from the fright and the shock.

“Just where does youse folks t’ink youse is goin’, huh?” growled the apparition, which now turned out to be the young man who had accompanied Teck earlier in the evening.

“Why—why—we’re—ah—weVe going for a walk, though I don’t see what business it is of yours⸺” began Jessica.

“Oh, youse is goin’ fer er promenahd, huh?” mocked the young man. “Well, it is me bizness, an’ don’t let nobuddy tell yer diff’runt, see! Just promenahd yerselves back to de porch an’ do yer walkin’ on de porch. Dis here night air ain’t none too healthy fer young female wimmen—nor fer no old hens, neither,” he glared malevolently at Elizabeth, who glared back at him as though she would like to scratch his eyes out.

“Yer see, yer might git yer tootsies wet, walkin’ so late,” he explained. “Come on, now,” he ordered, seeing that the women were about to remonstrate indignantly. “Don’t gimme none er yer guff about it—I got me orders an’ dey gits carried out, see! Me orders sez yer stays in dat dere house to-night, an’ dat’s where yer stays⸺” he stepped up to the women threateningly—“dat is, if yer don’t want ter be knocked fer a can of Swedish sardines. Get me?”

There was a brief silence, with Jessica struggling hard to keep back the tears of rage and disappointment. This man Teck thought of everything. Being a trickster himself, he expected trickery in everybody—even in the woman he wanted to marry. And the maddening part about it was that he had been correct in his assumption—that he had outguessed her.