Coming Through the Rye Read Online Free

know,” haughtily again. “I’ve noticed an agent once or twice. It may be rented now for all I know.”
    â€œYes?” And then quite irrelevantly, it seemed to her, “And your father’s business is?”
    â€œHe is a manager of a corporation. It has to do with ore and oil products.” She waved her hand toward the bits of rock and oil tubes on the desk. She had the air of endeavoring to graciously satisfy an insatiable curiosity on his part, endeavoring to show him how contemptible he was. But his quiet, grave manner did not alter.
    â€œMiss Ransom, have you ever been down to the cellar in your own house?”
    â€œReally!” she shrugged. “How absurd! Of course.”
    â€œCan you tell me what it contains?”
    â€œWhy certainly. A furnace, and a coal bin, and a woodpile.”
    â€œWhere is the furnace located?”
    What possible interest could that be to these strangers? “Why, almost directly under this room, I think.”
    â€œYes? And the coal bin? Is it located on the right wall or the left?”
    Romayne stopped to think. This was rather interesting, like a game. What could the man possibly be driving at? Or was he merely trying to kill time and asking any question that came into his head?
    â€œIt is on the right wall, just in front of the fireplace, I believe. Yes, I know it is. They fill it from the basement window on the sidewalk, just under that window over there, I think. We haven’t been here long, and haven’t needed to get coal yet.”
    â€œDid you ever examine the coal bin?”
    â€œWell no. I couldn’t possibly take any interest in a coal bin. Father always looks after those things.”
    â€œThen you have no knowledge of a door or passageway leading from that coal bin into the cellar of the next house?”
    Romayne gave a startled glance from one intent face to the other. For the first time it seemed to her the men were off their guard and openly watching her.
    â€œOf course not,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. Oh, if Father or Lawrence would only come. “You must have been reading dime novels or mystery stories.”
    The young man controlled a desire to smile. She could see it in the quiver of his lip. He had a nice mouth. But how outrageously impertinent.
    â€œDid you ever notice anything else in the cellar?” went on the steady voice.
    â€œNothing but some boxes and barrels that came from the mine and have to do with the business,” she said wearily. Would this inquisition never end?
    â€œI’m hungry,” she said suddenly. “I don’t suppose you’ll mind if I go and get something to eat, will you? In my own house?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Miss Ransom, but you’ll have to remain right here in this room for the present.” She had a strange sensation as she swept him a glance of disdain that his eyes were asking her pardon. “Hollister here will go where you direct him,” he added, “and get something for you. You can trust him to find what you want, I’m sure.”
    â€œNo!” said Romayne contemptuously. “I certainly cannot trust a person who had done what he is doing to an old friend. Thank you! I will remain hungry!”
    The color swept in a crimson wave up to the roots of Chris’s hair and he turned swiftly toward the window once more.
    â€œI’m sorry,” said Sherwood with genuine concern in his voice. “It was no part of my plan to drag you into this mess, Miss Ransom!”
    â€œOh, yes, you’re very sorry!” retorted Romayne angrily, and suddenly sat down in the chair he had offered her several times, with a defeated look on her face, and stormy eyes. Oh, if her father and brother would only come. It was ten minutes after six! Surely they must come soon!
    And then there was a sound of a key in the latch, a tense silence in the room; the front door opened, and Mr. Ransom, followed by his