Читать книгу The Secret of the Red Scarf - Elizabeth Mildred Duffield Ward - Страница 4

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The group standing around the mysterious young man was dumfounded that he had mistaken Kay Tracey for his sister. Embarrassed, the girl stepped forward and seated herself beside him on the couch.

“Do I look like your sister?” she asked gently.

“You—you are my sister,” the youth cried.

“I’m afraid not,” Kay replied. “I take it you haven’t seen your sister for some time?”

“I—no—yes—I don’t know,” the youth said, holding his fingers to his forehead in confusion.

Doctor Rolfe laid his hand on Kay’s shoulder and indicated that she had better not talk about the subject any more.

“I think our patient should be put to bed,” he said. “It would be best if he were not disturbed too much. I’ll call an ambulance.”

With this announcement, a wild look came into the young man’s eyes. “Oh no, please!” he begged. “I want to stay here. I have plenty of money. I can pay whatever is necessary.”

“But this is a private home,” the doctor told him. He exchanged places with Kay. Smiling at the patient on the sofa, he said, “Now if you’ll just give me your name and address——”

“Certainly. My name is——”

A look of complete bewilderment came over the face of the injured young man. He stared out the window, mumbled to himself and then turned eyes of fear to those around him.

“I don’t know who I am!” he said wildly. “I can’t remember.”

“Do you recall where you live?” the doctor asked.

The youth closed his eyes and tried to think. A few seconds later, he opened them. They were watery and he made no pretense of trying to hold back the tears.

“Oh, what has happened to me?” he sobbed. “I don’t know where I came from. Please help me remember.” He felt in his empty pockets. “Did you take my papers?”

Kay now told the youth how the girls had found him unconscious in his jalopy. All traces of identification, including the license plates, had been removed. She turned to her mother.

“I’m sure our visitor will feel better after he sleeps awhile and has some food,” she said. “Mother, shall we give him the guest room?”

Mrs. Tracey smiled and nodded.

“You are kind, very kind,” the youth said. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

Without warning, he fell into a deep sleep. The girls were fearful that he had become unconscious again but Doctor Rolfe explained that it was merely another period of exhaustion.

“But this is a deep, natural sleep,” he said. “I hope that when the young man wakes up, he will be able to explain who he is and what happened to him.”

Mrs. Tracey hurried up the stairs and prepared a bed for their unexpected patient. The others carefully carried him up the steps, then the girls left the visitor with Dr. Rolfe. The physician undressed him and put a pair of Cousin Bill’s pajamas on the boy. When at last the doctor came from the room he said to the Traceys:

“I’m afraid you may have wished more on yourselves than you bargained for.”

“What do you mean?” Kay’s mother asked.

“This boy may be suffering from amnesia,” the physician replied. “There’s no telling how long it will be before his memory is restored.”

A look of motherly kindness and understanding came over Mrs. Tracey’s face. “I’ll be very glad to take care of him. Poor boy!”

“And in the meantime I’ll do everything I can to find out who he is,” Kay spoke up.

“I advise you to get in touch with the police,” Dr. Rolfe said. “If the young man was attacked, it is a case for them.”

“All right,” Kay agreed, and went at once to the telephone.

In a little while a young officer named Jackson came to the house. Since the patient was still in a deep slumber, the officer merely looked at him and then wrote down what Kay told him about the affair. The twins had left for home so he was not able to question them but Kay’s story seemed to be complete. At the end of it he asked her if she would accompany him to where the jalopy was standing.

“Yes, certainly,” the girl agreed. “I do hope you can find something to identify our visitor.”

But an inspection by him of the old jalopy brought no results. The officer made a more thorough investigation than the girls had by pulling up the seat cushions and looking under the rubber mat which covered the floor. Finally he raised the hood of the car to look at the engine number. In a moment he whistled.

“The guy who knocked that young fellow out sure made a good job of covering his tracks,” Jackson stated. “He has scratched up the engine number so nobody could possibly read it.”

“You can etch it with acid and find out,” Kay said.

“Yes, miss, but our department isn’t equipped to do that. We’ll have to send this car to the city and that’ll take time.”

Kay thought the inspection was over, but the police officer took out a pad and pencil and copied down the numbers on each of the four tires.

“This is our only chance for quick action,” he said. “We may be able to trace the district where the young man came from. I’ll ask the tire manufacturers to what points these particular numbers were sent.”

“Good!” Kay exclaimed, “and will you broadcast a missing person’s alarm?”

“Correct, Miss Tracey. You’re right on the ball. The chief’ll sign you up any time you like.”

Officer Jackson grinned and said he’d have the jalopy driven to headquarters. Kay waved good-by and started back. As she entered her house, the girl met her mother coming down the stairway.

“How is he?” Kay asked eagerly.

Mrs. Tracey said that he was still asleep, but he was breathing easily and she had high hopes that when he awakened he would be able to remember who he was.

“Would you stay upstairs near him while I get dinner?” Mrs. Tracey asked her daughter.

“Certainly, Mother.”

Kay hurried to the second floor and peered into the guest room where the mysterious visitor lay asleep. Then she went in to her own room, thinking that she would start her school homework.

As she unpacked her books, Kay noticed the beautiful red scarf which was in an envelope tucked between two of them. She shook it out and had just tied it around her neck, when she heard the youth in the next room cough.

“Perhaps he’s awake,” she thought excitedly. “Now maybe I’ll be able to find out who he is.”

The patient was indeed awake. His eyes were on the ceiling and his head was moving from side to side. Hearing the girl, he turned and looked at her. Then, sitting bolt upright, he pointed at her and exclaimed:

“That scarf! Where did you get it? It’s Helene’s!”

Kay stood stock-still. After recovering from her surprise, she asked, “Is Helene your sister?”

“Yes, yes!”

“And what is your name?” Kay flung at him, hoping to take him by surprise so that if his memory had not yet been completely restored he would be shocked into remembering.

“My name? Why my name is——” Again a look of despair came over the youth’s face. He hung his head and replied, “I don’t know.”

“Well, we have a good clue to finding out,” said Kay happily. “I’ll show you something.”

She disappeared into the hall and hurried to her bedroom. There she took the magazine cover from a drawer and hurried back to the patient. Holding it up, she said:

“Is this your sister?”

“Yes, that’s Helene, but she looks older,” he replied.

“She’s lovely,” Kay remarked.

“You’re right,” he said, “and she looks a lot like you.”

“I see then why you mistook me for your sister,” Kay said. She smiled at the young man, then asked abruptly, “Helene what?”

The pale youth wrinkled his forehead as if he were thinking very hard. After a few seconds he shook his head.

“It’s no use,” he said sadly. “I just don’t remember anything.”

Kay now told him what the doctor had said—that with good rest and food he would probably recall past events very soon.

The boy remarked that in the meantime he should have some kind of a name. What would Kay like to call him?

The girl pondered a moment, then chuckled. “How would you like to be my temporary brother?” she asked. “Suppose I call you Bro.”

“Perfect.” The youth smiled.

The little note of cheerfulness seemed to relieve his mind, and when Kay offered to write to the magazine and find out who the model on the cover was he actually laughed.

“You’re just like a detective,” he said.

Kay brought her writing kit to his room and read aloud as she wrote. As she was addressing the envelope, her mother walked into the room carrying a tray with a delicious dinner on it.

“For you, young man,” she said.

“We’ve decided to call him Bro,” Kay smiled.

“That’s very appropriate,” her mother agreed.

Mrs. Tracey had prepared roast beef, mashed potatoes, a green salad, ice cream, and a pot of steaming cocoa for him.

“Boy, that looks good!” he exclaimed. “Thank you, Mrs. Tracey.”

“I hope you enjoy it,” she said kindly.

Mrs. Tracey set the tray down on his bed and started to hurry out.

“Please come back and talk to me,” Bro called. He liked this motherly person immensely and her presence seemed warm and comforting to him.

Kay said she would run to the mailbox on the corner and send the important letter while her mother talked with Bro.

As Kay hurried along the street, her heart was beating elatedly. Within a couple of days the mystery might be solved!

She dropped the air mail special delivery letter into the box, then turned back home. Some three hundred feet from her house, she saw a man run down the porch steps and hurry off.

“I wonder who he is?” she thought.

The man was too far away to be identified and as she walked up the steps the girl concluded he had been there delivering a package. As she opened the front door, however, Kay saw an envelope addressed to herself lying on the rug. The man must have shoved it under the door. Picking up the letter and opening it, Kay read with a startled gaze:

“YOUR BOARDER IS A THIEF. GET RID OF HIM AT ONCE!”