Part 12

"The little queen is all right!" he insisted instead. "Of course she is! This is Waloo, the United States, not a savage island. Nothing could happen to Miss Gilfooly in Waloo. She's all right! What makes you think she was kidnaped? Who kidnaped her? Where was that frizzle-headed bodyguard? Why wasn't he on his job?" He shot the questions, one after another at Joe, and then was impatient because they were not answered.

"You forget that Ka-kee-ta disappeared first," Joe said, as quietly as he could when he was so full of disgust and impatience. "Tessie was trying to find him when she was carried off. I don't know who did it, but I'd be willing to bet that a tow-headed man with a big nose had a hand in it--a big hand!" He looked keenly at Mr. Kingley, as he described the man he thought had had a hand in kidnaping Tessie.

Mr. Kingley snorted contemptuously. "Bets won't get you anywhere," he said scornfully. "What you want are a few facts. Do you know where she was and what she was doing when she was kidnaped?"

"Her brother Johnny saw her get into a car, and as soon as the door was shut, the car dashed up the street and around a corner."

Mr. Kingley rubbed his hands together and nodded approvingly. "Now you're talking. You show you have something to work with. I don't suppose you have the number of the car?" There was considerable superiority in his voice because, of course, Joe did not have the number.

"Yes, I have! And a description, too. The car was a dark blue limousine and its license number was 13,023!" He moved closer to Mr. Kingley and eyed him oddly, but Mr. Kingley did not become at all excited when he heard the license number.

"13,023," he repeated slowly. "Well, have you found whose car that is? It seems simple enough now, Cary. Whose car is it?"

Joe looked at him. Was it possible that he didn't know whose car bore the license number 13,023? Joe watched him like a hawk as he told him whose car it was.

"The car is listed," he said slowly, "as belonging to Mr. W. A. Kingley--Mr. William A. Kingley!"

"No!" exclaimed Mr. William A. Kingley in a surprise that seemed genuine, although Joe could not believe that any man would be ignorant of the license number of his own car. "It can't be!"

"Owner of the Evergreen," went on Joe, with a thump on the table to drive the fact home.

"It's been stolen!" declared Mr. Kingley excitedly. "My car has been stolen! I don't know a thing about this! I don't even believe it!" he exclaimed shrilly.

"When I got the information from the police," Joe told him slowly, "I telephoned to your house to learn if your car was there."

"And it was!" insisted Mr. Kingley, leaning forward in his big chair. "Of course it was!"

"It was not!" Mr. Kingley sank back with a groan. "And your chauffeur was found in the garage, tied and gagged!"

"Bless me!" In the face of such facts Mr. Kingley could only stammer and sputter. "Who could--who could--who found him?" he demanded sharply.

"Your daughter telephoned to the garage for the car, and when it wasn't brought around, she went herself to see what was the matter. She found the chauffeur on the floor tied and gagged."

"But what did he say? What did he say?" Mr. Kingley had jumped up from his big chair and was tramping up and down the office with quick excited steps.

"He said he had the car all ready to drive out, when two men came in and threatened him with a gun. They gagged him, tied him up and drove the car out of the garage. He didn't know either of them, he said. Never saw them before. They were both masked, but he thought one of them, at least, was a Jap." He stopped and looked at Mr. Kingley significantly.

"A Jap!" repeated Mr. Kingley aghast. He stared at Joe, and he tried with all of his might to understand what Joe so plainly wanted him to understand. "I never employed a Jap in my life," he said hurriedly. "Not in any capacity!"

"Didn't you?" questioned Joe, with even more of that puzzling significance.

"A Jap kidnaping the Queen of the Sunshine Islands," Mr. Kingley said slowly. His eyes brightened. "Such pub--I mean," as he caught the indignant flash in Joe's eyes--"I mean, I hope it won't lead to any international complication."

"I hope not," agreed Joe, wishing he could raise the top of Mr. Kingley's head, with its shining scalp and fringe of pepper-and-salt hair, and take a look at his mental machinery. "You can't tell me anything more then, Mr. Kingley? You don't know anything about this?" His eyes seemed to be boring into Mr. Kingley's very soul.

"Know? How should I know anything?" demanded Mr. Kingley, and he looked insulted.

"Several little things made me think that possibly you might know more about the Sunshine Islands and their queen than you admit," Joe told him with more of that disagreeable significance. "Maybe you know more about the Sons of Sunshine than I do," he added, as Mr. Kingley turned away with a muttered exclamation.

"Yes, yes," he said hastily. "Bill told me about them, that they had threatened to make trouble for Miss Gilfooly. I told Bill then that she should ask for police protection, but Bill laughed at me and said Ka-kee-ta with his ax was worth a platoon of police."

"I thought you would know about them," Joe went on completely ignoring what Mr. Bill said. "And perhaps you know about the special representative--I believe his name is Pitts? The Sons of Sunshine claimed they had him a prisoner."

"I don't know a word about him!" Mr. Kingley seemed pained to hear that Joe thought that he did. "I don't see why you come here, Cary, and talk to me as if I were implicated in this kidnaping. Why aren't you running down this clue you have? Did Ethel telephone to the insurance company? Who got the number anyway? Are you sure that it's correct?"

"I'm sure. Johnny Gilfooly took the number, and he's a Boy Scout and trained to observe."

"Why wasn't he looking after his sister? Aren't Boy Scouts trained to take care of their sisters?" Mr. Kingley sounded quite as unreasonable as he looked.

"Tessie sent him into the Bon Bon Box for some chocolates----"

"Then he didn't see his sister kidnaped?" Mr. Kingley interrupted quickly.

"Yes, he did. He was just coming out when he saw Tessie get into the car. It dashed away, but not before he had snatched his pencil from his pocket and written the number on the box of candy. He did it mechanically, and when Tessie didn't come home, we were glad he did. It's the only clue we have. It is mighty strange that she should have been carried away in your car, Mr. Kingley!" he insisted.

"Very, very strange," agreed Mr. Kingley with a frown. "And very strange that I didn't hear about the car until you came in. Why didn't Ethel telephone to me?"

"Your line was busy. And Bill-- Where is your son Bill, Mr. Kingley?" he asked sharply.

"My son Bill! Why--why--" What on earth was Joe Cary driving at. No wonder he stammered.

It seemed to Joe that he was just stammering to gain time.

"Yes, your son Bill!" he repeated sharply.

"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Kingley.

"Just what I say. Where's young Bill Kingley?" insisted Joe, growing more suspicious every minute.

"Who wants Bill Kingley?" asked a voice from the doorway, and Mr. Bill himself came in. He looked excited and worried. "I say, dad, have you heard? Queen Teresa has been kidnaped! We've got to find her! There are three reporters out here."

"Reporters! Why should they come to me?" wondered Mr. Kingley, chafing under the fiery gaze of Joe Cary.

"Tessie was carried off in your car," Joe reminded him. "I should think the police, as well as the reporters, would want to talk to you. The Queen of the Sunshine Islands was found in the basement of your store, and now she has been carried off in your car. It sounds----"

"How!" interrupted Mr. Bill, stepping in front of his shrinking father and facing Joe. "How does it sound to you, Cary?" he asked thirstily.

"Queer!" Joe told him flatly. "Darned queer! But if you don't tell all you know now, Mr. Kingley, you'll have to come through some day!" He regarded Mr. Kingley with an odd combination of eager hope and hot defiance. Would Mr. Kingley tell all he knew now?

But Mr. Kingley had stood all he was going to stand from Joe Cary. "You--you--" he stammered furiously and had to stop for breath. "You're discharged! Discharged! Do you hear? I won't let any employee talk to me as if I were a kidnaper and a thief!"

"Yes, you will!" Joe dared to say to his purple face. "Unless you prove you aren't a kidnaper and a thief! And you'd better not discharge me! I suspect too much! When I'm ready to leave, I'll resign. You had better go now and talk to your reporters," he added with contempt. "You'll miss the afternoon papers if you don't. And that would be too bad, when you have some more publicity for the Evergreen."

"What do you mean, Joe?" asked Mr. Bill, who could not make anything of the eager words that Joe was uttering, and that made his father so apoplectic that he could only gasp and gurgle and shake his fist at Joe as he left the room. "What do you mean?" Joe seemed to mean so much more than he said.

"I haven't time to tell you now!" Joe exclaimed brusquely. "I must find Tessie!" He would have brushed by Mr. Bill, as if Mr. Bill were only a part of the office furniture, but Mr. Bill clutched his arm.

"I'm going to find her, too!" he insisted. "I'm going to find her! Where do you suppose she is? What could have happened to her?" He shivered as he thought of what might have happened to Tessie. "I don't suppose those Sons of Sunshine would stop at anything, would they?" His voice shook as he asked the question.

Joe stood still and looked at him curiously. "Yes," he said as if he knew what he was talking about. "I think there are some things the Sons of Sunshine will not attempt--not in Waloo. Come on, if you're going with me. Do you happen to know," he stopped as a thought flashed through his brain, "do you happen to know if Tessie had the Tear of God with her?"

Mr. Bill shook his head, and the anxious look in his face deepened. Would it make it better or worse for Tessie if she had the royal jewel with her?

"I don't know," he confessed. "She usually did have it around her neck or somewhere else in a safety-bag. Mrs. Gilfooly would know," he suggested when Joe frowned and said nothing.

"Of course," Joe shrugged his shoulders and threw back his head. "Of course, Granny will know!"

XIX

When Tessie came out of the big building which housed the offices of Marvin, Phelps Stokes and told Johnny to run into the Bon Bon Box for some chocolates, she saw a big blue limousine draw up to the curb beside her. She recognized the car at once. She had driven in it too many times not to know that it was the Kingley car. When the chauffeur jumped out and came toward her, she did not recognize him, and she thought carelessly that Mrs. Kingley had done what she had threatened to do, hired a Japanese chauffeur.

"They look so smart," Mrs. Kingley had said. "And they are so clever."

"And so unreliable," Mr. Kingley had added, and he had insisted that when all the American men were employed, it would be time enough to hire a Jap.

But Mrs. Kingley had evidently had her way, and Tessie smiled as the chauffeur stopped beside her, bowed humbly, and asked her if she would please come to the car. Tessie turned at once. She naturally thought that Ethel Kingley, or possibly Mrs. Kingley--young Mr. Bill's mother--wanted to speak to her. And although she knew that it is not the thing to order a queen to come here or go there, still the Kingleys were more than queens to her, and with a thumping heart she went to the car. She even entered it without a question, all aglow with curiosity to hear what Ethel Kingley or Mrs. Kingley--the lordly Mr. Bill's mother--had to say to her.

Before she really realized that there was no one in the car, the chauffeur had sent the machine leaping forward. It rounded a corner on two wheels, and if the traffic policeman had not been engaged in a warm argument with two men in small cars, each of whom wanted the right of way at the same time, it would never have gone any further, for it was breaking the traffic laws with every revolution of its red wheels.

Tessie could have pounded on the glass which separated her from the chauffeur, but it never occurred to her to do that. She thought she had misunderstood the chauffeur and that Ethel Kingley or Mrs. Kingley had asked her to come to the Kingley residence. She was sorry she had not had time to tell Johnny where she was going, but Johnny would take the box of chocolates home and would tell Granny that she had gone to the Kingleys, so that Granny would not worry. If Ka-kee-ta had returned, he would make a fuss because she had the Tear of God. She felt for it in its safety bag around her slim waist. But if Ka-kee-ta wanted to go with her, he should not take all day for a little errand which should have required only half an hour.

She wondered if Ka-kee-ta had returned. Perhaps she should stop at the Waloo and inquire. She leaned forward to speak to the chauffeur. She never could remember to use the silken tube which hung at the side of the car. But the limousine swerved to the left and dashed down a mean little street, which was not on the way to the Kingleys' big plaster-and-timbered mansion. She knew it wasn't. She had never gone that way before. Why--Why----

Tessie did pound on the glass then, but the chauffeur never turned his head. He just swung the car around another corner, and down another narrow street, and stopped before a brick house. He jumped out and opened the door and motioned to Tessie to step out. But Tessie never moved a muscle. She sat on the broad gray seat of the limousine, as if she never would step out.

"Suppose you take me home now," she said coldly and calmly, although inwardly she was anything but calm and cold. "I know Mrs. Kingley isn't here. And Miss Kingley isn't here, either. You've made a mistake. Take me to the Waloo Hotel at once!"

She spoke like a queen, as if she were accustomed to issuing orders and to being obeyed, and not at all like the frightened little girl she really felt. She told herself that it was ridiculous to feel frightened. Nothing could happen to her! Not on the street in Waloo in broad daylight!

It made her feel safer to see a group of small boys playing ball on the vacant lot next to the red brick house. One of the boys failed to catch the ball, and it rolled almost under the car.

"Take me home!" ordered Tessie, in her most royal manner.

But the chauffeur only showed his teeth. They made a white streak in his yellow face as he motioned toward the door of the red brick house.

"Ka-kee-ta," he said very slowly and distinctly. "You want Ka-kee-ta?"

"Ka-kee-ta!" That was a very different pair of shoes. So Miss Kingley, or perhaps it was Mrs. Kingley, had found Ka-kee-ta--although what he was doing away down here, miles from the Waloo, Tessie could not imagine--and had sent the chauffeur to take her to him. How kind! How very kind of the Kingleys. She jumped up, eager questions tumbling from her lips. "Why is he here? Why didn't he come home? Is he hurt?" For she was sure that nothing but an injury would keep Ka-kee-ta away from her and from the Tear of God. She was glad she had the Tear of God in the safety bag around her waist. She could show Ka-kee-ta that it was safe. Her face whitened as she thought that Ka-kee-ta might be, must be, badly injured. But still she hesitated to go to him. She stood on the running board of the car and looked up and down the narrow little street.

"Ka-kee-ta, he want you!" exclaimed the chauffeur, and he would have taken her arm to help her, but she pushed him away. She had taken a dislike to him, she did not know why, but she did not want him to touch her, although it was kind of him to bring her to Ka-kee-ta.

She glanced at the red brick house. Was that Ka-kee-ta's frizzled head at an upper window? It looked like it. So he was not badly injured, or he would not be at the window. She drew a long breath of relief. She would go and see what was the matter with him, and if it was nothing serious, she would give him a good big piece of her mind for worrying her. Of course, a queen would have to look after her bodyguard even if her bodyguard had been disobedient and careless. Indeed she would tell Ka-kee-ta what she thought of him.

She stepped forward hurriedly, and in her eagerness to tell Ka-kee-ta how disobedient he had been, she dropped her little beaded bag. It fell from the big embroidered pocket of her Canton crepe frock and rolled under the car, but Tessie never knew it. The chauffeur, who was close at her side, never knew it, either.

The door of the red brick house opened before Tessie could ring the bell, and she went in. The chauffeur waited until the door closed behind her, and then ran back to his car. He jumped in and drove rapidly away. The small boy in search of his ball had to wait a minute, until the car had dashed away. And then he saw the beaded bag lying in the street beside the curb and beside the ball.

"Crickey!" he exclaimed, holding it up for the other boys to see. "Look what I found!"

There was no one in the hall as the outside door closed behind Tessie. She stood still for a second, feeling very small and neglected. Since she became a queen, she had been met at front doors with more or less ceremony, and it puzzled her that no one met her now. There was a door at her right. She walked toward it. She could not remember at just which window she had caught that glimpse of a frizzled head. Perhaps Ka-kee-ta was in the room at the right. But when she opened the door, she did not see Ka-kee-ta. She saw Frederic Pracht.

He stepped forward. "Welcome!" he said pleasantly. "Welcome, Your Majesty!"

"Why--why--" stammered Tessie, so surprised she could do nothing but stammer. She sent a hurried glance around the room, but she could not see a trace of her bodyguard. "I thought Ka-kee-ta was here," she managed to say after she had swallowed twice, and impatiently tossed her head to free the frightened lump in her throat.

Mr. Pracht laughed softly, unpleasantly. "This is the Waloo headquarters of the Sons of Sunshine," he explained gently, and as if she should know that Ka-kee-ta would never be found at the headquarters of that revolutionary organization.

"The Sons of Sunshine," repeated Tessie faintly. The bright color left her face, her bones suddenly felt starchless and limp, but she looked bravely at Mr. Pracht. She remembered that Granny had told her that the Gilfoolys were never afraid. She must not let Mr. Pracht think that a Gilfooly could be afraid, but she half closed her eyes and wished with all of her heart that Joe Cary were with her--or Mr. Bill! If only Mr. Bill were there, she would not mind the unpleasant little smile with which Mr. Pracht was regarding her. She would not mind anything!

"Yes. I am sure that you are going to be a most amiable and obliging queen, and grant the Sons of Sunshine what they ask," Mr. Pracht said, and his voice was far more pleasant than his smile. It was too pleasant, so very pleasant that if Tessie had been any one but a valiant Gilfooly, she would have fainted immediately. "If you refuse," went on the unpleasantly pleasant voice, "you will have to remain here until you see how reasonable their demands are. A strange people, Your Majesty--a strange people! And they have strange customs in their far-away islands. I think I told you of some of them?" And he looked at her and shook his thatched tow-head.

Tessie straightened herself proudly. She would not let him see how frightened she was. She would die first.

"You told me of one," she said as scornfully as she could, when she had no starch at all left in her bones. "Something about boiling the kings they don't like in shark oil." And she managed a contemptuous toss of her head, as if she did not believe a word of Mr. Pracht's story.

"Yes," he agreed cheerfully. "That is one of their little customs. But I am sure that they will not have to resort to it soon again. You cannot blame them for wanting a native ruler. You really have no claim on them. Just because your uncle was an unscrupulous man, and influenced the old king to disinherit his sons, is no reason why the people should have to accept another white ruler when they don't want one." He would have gone on to tell Tessie other things about the islands and the rebels, but she interrupted him.

"What do you want of me?" she asked bluntly.

"I told you. Your rights to the Sunshine Islands," he told her as bluntly.

But Tessie, soft, little, frightened Tessie, felt the hot blood of the Gilfoolys rush through her. It seemed to put the starch back in her bones so that she could stand boldly before this hateful, smiling man. Her islands! The very idea! Words Joe Cary had said rushed through her mind. It was funny that she should remember what Joe had said about responsibilities and duties now. But Joe was right. She did have responsibilities and duties. So instead of telling Mr. Pracht exactly what she thought of him, she swallowed the hot words which rushed to her lips, tossed her head, and looked at him questioningly. She must meet craft with craft.

"How do I know that you are what you say?" she asked doubtfully. "You tell me that you represent the Sons of Sunshine, and that the Sons of Sunshine want a native ruler, but I have only your word for it. You must have some credentials or something. I can't dispose of my rights to the islands my Uncle Pete left me and turn the people over to just any one. That wouldn't be right! Joe Cary--" And suddenly she remembered something else Joe Cary had told her. She stared at Mr. Pracht with big astonished eyes. "Joe Cary told me once that there was some country that would like to get possession of my islands so it would have a base, I think he said, nearer the United States. He said the Japanese would give their eyeteeth to get control of the Sunshine Islands. I remember all about it now. How do I know you aren't acting for the Japanese, instead of for the Sons of Sunshine?" she asked shrilly.

He jumped, and all the muscles of his face seemed to tighten as he stared at her. "Japanese!" he repeated sharply.

"Yes. And it was a Jap who drove the car that brought me here," remembered Tessie, putting two and two together. "I would never sell my islands to the Japanese!" she declared firmly. "Never! I don't trust them! And it wouldn't be patriotic! Joe said it wouldn't! And the Baileys, who lived next to us before I was a queen, were from California, and they told me things about the Japanese. If you are working for them, you can tell them I would never think of selling my islands to them!" And she turned away as if to let him know that her decision was made and the interview was over.

Out on the steps, a small boy with a beaded bag in his hand was ringing the doorbell. It sent a loud peal through the house.

"Some one is at your front door," Tessie told Mr. Pracht, who stood biting his nails, and frowning at her as though he had not heard the bell.

"Let it ring," he muttered staring at her. Suddenly he shrugged his shoulders. He had decided on his course of action. "You want Ka-kee-ta?" he said curtly. "Come upstairs."

"I thought you said he wasn't here," she exclaimed. "That surprised me, for I was sure I saw him at the window."

"Come upstairs," repeated Mr. Pracht. "Ka-kee-ta needs you."

Of course, if one of her people needed her, there was nothing for a queen to do but follow Mr. Pracht up the stairs and down the hall. Outside the front door, a small boy stuffed a beaded bag in his pocket and ran down the steps and up the street.