Patty Blossom

"Oh, you can't do that now, it's too late."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner that you wanted it?"

"Never s'posed you'd give it up, or I would have. But I'll get even with you!"

"Now, don't talk like that, for it wasn't my fault that Mr. Riggs selected me for the part."

"Well, it was your fault that you took it, and it will be my fault if I don't make you pay for it!"

"Is this a threat?"

"It most certainly is. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing at all,—unless it is carried out. Then I shall defend myself to the best of my ability. I'm good-natured,—and I am told you are,—but I've no intention of being annoyed unjustly, and you'll find that out, Miss Ray Rose! By the way, what a pretty name you have."

"Do you like it? It's really Ramona, but I've always been called Ray. I like you a lot, Miss Fairfield, and I'd be sorry to annoy you, but,—well, perhaps because I do like you so much,—I warn you, I'm going to get ahead of you on this circus program, if I can."

"You're a little goose," said Patty, laughing outright at the determined face and snapping black eyes of Ray Rose. "I do believe you want to cut up some trick on me, because I stole your part, or it seems to you I did, and yet, you rather like me, and hate to do it, after all."

"How did you know?" cried Ray Rose, astonished. "That's exactly what was in my mind! Well, honest, if I can conquer my desire to get even with you, I'll let you alone. But I feel pretty sure I shall do your act myself."

"You are the queerest girl I ever saw!" and Patty looked her astonishment. "Your frankness and your slyness together are the funniest combination! Just for your queer cleverness, I give you permission to get my place from me if you can! But don't forget I offered it to you."

"That's nothing. Bob Riggs wouldn't let me take it. But if I get it in some way that he can't help himself, remember that you told me I might."

Patty was greatly amused at this conversation, but as other and more important matters quickly demanded her attention, she promptly forgot the whole matter.

The circus proper was to be an evening entertainment, but in the afternoon of the same day, the entire cast of characters marched up and down the streets as an advertisement, hoping to attract attention and rouse curiosity to such an extent that the attendance at the evening performance would be large.

The animals presented a fearsome sight. Lions, bears, tigers, monkeys, a giraffe and a donkey, were followed by clowns, acrobats, trapeze performers, and jugglers.

Patty, as première danseuse, rode in a gilded chariot drawn by four gaily caparisoned white horses. She sat enthroned on a high seat, and waved smiling greetings as she passed.

Ray Rose, in Pierrette costume, was gay and good-natured, and chummed up with Patty, in evident forgetfulness of any ill-feeling.

"She's all right," Patty said to Elise, as they went home after the parade, and prepared to rest up a little before the evening performance.

Patty had no sooner reached her room than she was called to the telephone. The speaker was Ray Rose.

"Excuse me, Miss Fairfield, but I do want to speak to you a minute. I think my Pierrette act would be a whole lot prettier, if I had a few Highland Fling steps in it, don't you?"

"I do," Patty replied, after a moment's consideration. "Put them in after the one-step movement."

"Yes, that's what I meant. May I run over to your house a minute, and will you show me about the Fling? It won't take a jiffy."

"Yes, of course. Will you come right away?"

"I will. But, oh, pshaw,—I'm all dressed in my Pierrette rig; wouldn't you,—couldn't you come here instead? I'll send the car, it won't take any time at all."

"Why, yes, I can come over, and I will, if you want me to so much." Patty ran to tell Elise she was going, but Elise was not in her room, so Patty went downstairs to look for her. Before she saw Elise, or indeed any one else, the Rose car came, a little runabout, with only the chauffeur.

Flinging a motor coat from the hall-rack around her, Patty ran out the door and jumped into the car.

In a moment she was at Ray Rose's house, and the girl herself stood smiling in the doorway.

"Good for you!" she cried, "you're a duck! Come right up to my room."

Patty followed Ray, who ran lightly up stairs, and threw open the door of her bedroom.

"What a lovely room!" Patty exclaimed, as she entered a dainty nest all pink and white.

"Yes, isn't it?" agreed Ray, and they stepped inside. "Sit down a minute," she went on, "I want to get another scarf. I'll be right back."

Patty threw herself into a low wicker chair, and, gently closing the door behind her, Ray disappeared.

CHAPTER VII

A CLEVER PLAN

Patty waited, thinking over the coming performance and mentally rehearsing her part. It was not really difficult, but it was tricky, for unless she sprang through the paper-covered hoops at just the right moment, it would be an awkward blunder. However, after many rehearsals, she felt pretty sure of herself, and looked forward with pleasure to the fun.

She glanced round Ray's room. It was full of attractive odds and ends in addition to its furniture and regular appointments, which were of the most elaborate description. Rising, Patty examined some of the pictures and ornaments, and became so engrossed, that the minutes flew by unnoticed. On the dressing-table was a silver-framed clock, and a tinkling chime rang out from it, before Patty had given a thought to the hour. Quarter-past seven! And the performance was scheduled for half-past eight. She had waited there for Ray nearly fifteen minutes. It was very queer. What could have detained her?

Patty waited restlessly for five minutes longer, and then determined to go in search of Ray. She turned the doorknob, but the door would not open! Like a flash the explanation came to her. She was locked in! Ray had done it, in fulfilment of her threat to "get even" with Patty.

The summons over there had been a blind, to trick her into the room, and now she was locked in!

Patty smiled at the silly ruse. The matter couldn't be serious,—she could certainly get out some way, and get home in time to don her costume and get to the circus, even if a little late. Unwilling to cause unnecessary disturbance, she looked round the room to note the exits. There was but one other door and that led to a dressing-room, which in turn had a door opening into a bathroom. That was all. No more doors were to be seen. The windows had no balconies, and being on the second floor, there was no chance of escape thereby.

Patty looked around for a telephone, but saw none. She thought such an elaborate household would have many of them, but realised that Ray probably had a sitting-room or boudoir in addition to these rooms and her telephone would be there. Patty knew the girl was an only child of doting parents, and that she was spoiled and pampered to an inordinate degree.

Patty considered. Doubtless Mr. and Mrs. Rose were not at home, or, if they were, they would not answer a call, for Ray would have looked after that. The servants, likewise, must have been ordered not to release Patty, for Ray Rose was not one to do anything by halves, and if she had planned to get Patty over there, she had also planned to keep her there.

It was ridiculous, it was maddening,—but it was true. Patty was locked in a room and could not get out. She hadn't heard a key turn, but it must have done so. Peeping in the keyhole, she could see that the key was in the lock, from the hall side.

Endeavouring to use her ingenuity, Patty tried to turn the key from her side by means of a button-hook, a nail file, a hairpin, and a glove stretcher. Needless to say her attempts were unsuccessful.

"I've heard of turning a key in its own lock," she mused, but she found the feat impossible of achievement.

Again the chiming little timepiece reminded her that another quarter hour had flown.

"Half-past seven!" she thought. "My dear Miss Fairfield, you have got to do something pretty quick! Get busy! What would your favourite heroes of wild romance do to get out of such a fix as this?"

When Patty was baffled, she always talked to herself. But her appeals to herself or her ingenuity did no good, and after a thorough search for a means of exit, she concluded to call out. She felt it was an undignified thing to do, and, too, she felt it would do no good, but there was no other course to pursue, that she could see.

So she called, gently at first, and then more loudly, but, as she had anticipated, there was no response. Going close to the door, she called again and again, and then concluded it was useless.

She threw herself into an easy chair, thoroughly angry with Ray Rose, and chagrined at herself for being led into such a trap.