With a muttered exclamation of annoyance Dean restored his watch to his
pocket, debating with himself how long he ought to wait and whether or
not he had better wait if she did not appear soon. Very possibly, he
realized, something entirely unforeseen might have detained her or have
prevented her coming. Perhaps her family had doubted her story that she
was going off on an all-day motor trip with a friend? Maybe their
suspicions had been aroused by his having reported sick? He had almost
decided to go on alone when he observed that the boy he had seen
approaching was standing beside the motorcycle.
"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.
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