Daniel Plainway - Or The Holiday Haunting of the Moosepath League by Van Reid

Author:Van Reid
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781608935239
Publisher: Down East Books

30. Advice Did Not Come Cheap

When Miss Burnbrake did not arrive at the Worster House by nightfall, her uncle began to fret, and when word did arrive that two trains had been stopped by a derailment south of Hallowell, the old man was beside himself and hired a sleigh that would take him to the scene of the accident. Before he was able to leave, however, a sequel to the story was broadcast over the wire, stating that no one had been injured in the accident and that the passengers from both trains had found quarters in nearby inns and private homes. With these assurances, Mr. Burnbrake was prevailed upon to stay at the Worster House and wait upon his niece’s arrival on the morrow. a practical man, having assuaged his fears, he went upstairs to take a nap before dinner.

He rose an hour later, dressed, and joined the Moosepath League and the Dash-It-All Boys in the dining room; it made for a jolly table, and Roderick Waverley himself stood from his seat with a glass of cider raised and declared, “Though we part, members of our separate societies-the Moosepath League and the Dash-It-All Boys-let us tonight think of ourselves as the Moose-Dashians!”

Ephram, Eagleton, and Thump were so moved that they rose as one and cried out, “Moxie!” This was completely inexplicable to the Dash-It-All Boys but did not discourage them from taking part. Durwood, in particular, derived some pleasure from declaring, “Moxie,” at odd intervals throughout the meal.

Neither Moxie nor young cider, however, interested the Dash-It-All Boys very much, though Brink did find some medicinal tonic in a pocket, and the addition of this to the mugs of the Dashians greatly elevated their level of energy. Ephram, Eagleton, and Thump admired Durwood, Waverley, and Brink’s animation; Mr. Burnbrake was pretty sure they were tight.

After dinner the Dash-It-All Boys bade good evening and wandered into the lobby in search of their hats and coats. It was here that Durwood found on the manager’s desk a short stack of card stock that was meant to be used for messages and addresses. “How is your hand?” he asked of a young housemaid who walked past him at that moment.

“I beg your pardon,” she said.

Waverley and Brink took interest in the question and gathered around him. Durwood waggled his hand in the air, as if he were writing something. “Do you have a nice hand?” he said.

“It looks very nice to me,” expressed Waverley.

“Go away,” suggested Durwood.

“Both of them, in fact,” added Brink.

“It is nice enough, I suppose,” said the young woman.

Durwood snatched up one of the blank cards and laid it beside the register pen. “Would you do me the favor of demonstrating?” he inquired.

Though the request was unusual, the young woman was accustomed to obliging the hotel’s patrons; she stepped up to the desk and dipped the pen.

“Would you please write ‘Mrs. Dorothea Roberto’?” asked Durwood.

A pair of eyebrows lifted, one each on the faces of Waverley and Brink. They joined Durwood in leaning close to the work as it was accomplished.

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