The Spring Song by Forrest Reid

Author:Forrest Reid
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Valancourt Books
Published: 2013-02-26T13:00:00+00:00

“You’re a queer chap, Dorset,” he muttered. And it suddenly struck him that his whole relation with Palmer was queer; he who was a swell at games, and therefore, from any sensible and natural point of view, immensely Palmer’s superior. Their mutual positions should have been exactly reversed. There seemed indeed no reason whatever why Palmer’s will should always prevail, for he never blustered and very seldom got angry. Nor had Edward ever been particularly conscious that it did prevail until this moment. He had a transitory sense of discouragement. Things were not as they ought to be, and he somehow felt that in his dealings with Palmer they never would be altered.

All this flitted through his mind as he glided quietly downstairs to make inquiries about Grif. When he returned Palmer was lying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He did not even look round as Edward came in.

“They’ve found out where he went to,” Edward began excitedly. “He took a train, and they’ve telephoned to the police to look for him. Robert and another man have gone to search along the road. The circus hasn’t turned up at Rathcarragh, and the police think they must be camping out, though they don’t know where. They’ve promised to send word as soon as they hear anything. Grandpapa and Aunt Caroline aren’t going to bed at present. I shouldn’t be surprised if they sat up most of the night.”

These last words alone appeared to interest Palmer. “Dash it all! that will mess up our plan!” he muttered, frowning. “It’s nearly eleven now. In about half an hour we’ll have to begin our watch, for there’s no good leaving anything to chance.”

“They’ll hear us if we go downstairs,” Edward said. “They’ll be listening for every sound.” He cast a tentative, sidelong glance at the recumbent Palmer, and, as that hero took no notice, went on more boldly, “I don’t know that there’s much in this plan of yours, Dorset. I dare say if we were to tell grandpapa he’d let us keep watch downstairs. If anybody did come he’d go away when he saw we were ready for him.”

“We don’t want him to go away,” said Palmer, without altering his position, or even turning his head. “I’m going out. You needn’t come if you don’t want to. But if you spoil the thing now by blabbing either to your grandfather or to Miss Annesley I’ll never tell you anything again as long as I live.”

“I don’t want to blab,” answered Edward angrily.

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