The Pursuit

"Good morning, Thomas," said the boy, a little doubtfully, as if not quite sure that it was he.

Dean gasped in astonishment. The boy's voice was the voice of Jane.

Laughing merrily at his amazement and discomfiture, she climbed into the seat beside him, asking: "How do you like my disguise?"

"It's great," he cried. "You fooled me completely, and I was expecting you."

"When Chief Fleck said I ought to disguise myself for fear that the Hoffs already suspected me, I happened to remember these clothes. I had them once for a play we gave in school."

"But you don't even walk like a girl."

Jane laughed again.

"I practised that walk for days and days. When I first put on this suit my brother hooted at the way I walked. He said no girl ever could learn to walk like a boy. I made up my mind I'd show him."

"But your hair," protested Dean, almost anxiously. Even if he was just now assuming the humble role of chauffeur he still was an ardent admirer of such hair as Jane's, long, black and luxurious.

"Tucked up under my cap," laughed the girl, "and for fear it might tumble down, I brought this along. It's what the sailor boys call a 'beanie,' isn't it?"

As she spoke she adjusted over her head a visorlike woolen cap that left only her face showing.

"But your mother--didn't she wonder about your wearing those clothes?"