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  DOROTHY DIXON

  and the Double Cousin

  BY

  Dorothy Wayne

  Author of Dorothy Dixon Solves the Conway Case Dorothy Dixon and The Mystery Plane Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings

  THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO

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  Copyright, 1933

  The Goldsmith Publishing Company MADE IN U.S.A.

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  To Dorothea Hetty Gutmann

  a New Canaan schoolgirl, who loves our beautiful Ridge Country, and whose fox terrier, Professor, really ate the dictionary!

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  CONTENTS

  I The Encounter 15 II "Family Affairs" 27 III The Sleepwalker 39 IV Meet Flash! 55 V On Secret Service 67 VI Who's Who? 79 VII Playing a Part 91 VIII "Walk Into My Parlor" 104 IX In the Night 116 X Surprises 127 XI Gretchen 142 XII Tests 156 XIII Winnite 168 XIV Professor 179 XV Tea and Orders 199 XVI Caught in the Act 212 XVII Professor Makes Good 228 XVIII The Christmas Spirit 246

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  DOROTHY DIXON AND THE DOUBLE COUSIN

  Chapter I

  THE ENCOUNTER

  "Why--good heavens, girl! How in the world did you escape?"

  Dorothy Dixon heard the low, eager whisper at her elbow but disregardedit. She was intent on selecting a tie from the colorful rack on thecounter before her. She spoke to the clerk:

  "I'll take this one, and that'll make four. I hope Daddy will approve mytaste in Christmas presents," she smiled, and laid a bill on herpurchases.

  "But--please, dear, tell me! Don't you know I'm worried crazy? Who letyou out?"

  This time Dorothy felt a touch on her arm. She wheeled quickly to face atall, slender young fellow of twenty-two or three. As she stared at him,half indignant, half wondering, she saw sincere distress in his browneyes, and in the lines of his pleasant face. Hat in hand, he waitedanxiously for an answer to his question, while the crowd of holidayshoppers poured through the aisles about them.

  Dorothy's eyes softened, then danced. "It seems to me," she said, "thatyou have the wires twisted--it's not I who've escaped, but you! Runalong now and find your keeper. You're evidently in need of one!"

  "Your change and package, miss," the impersonal voice of thehaberdashery clerk intervened and Dorothy turned back to the counter.

  "But why on earth are you acting this way, Janet?" The strange young manwas at her elbow again.

  Once more Dorothy turned swiftly toward him but when she spoke her eyesand voice were serious. "Do you really mean to say you think you'respeaking to Janet Jordan? Because--"

  "My dear--what are you trying to tell me?" He broke in impatiently. "Icertainly ought to know the girl I'm going to marry!"

  Dorothy nodded slowly. "I agree with you--you ought to--but then, yousee, you _don't_!"

  The young man crushed his soft felt hat in his hands and took a stepnearer to her. "Look here--what _is_ the matter with you? I know you'vebeen through a lot, but--" He broke off abruptly, a gleam of horror andsuspicion in his honest eyes. "Janet! What have they done to you?"

  Dorothy laid a firm hand on his arm. "Sh! Be quiet--listen to me." Thenshe added gently--"I am _not_ Janet Jordan, your fiancee."

  "You're not--!"

  "No. My name is Dorothy Dixon--and I'm Janet's first cousin."

  The young man seemed flabbergasted for a moment. Then hestammered--"Wh-why, it's astounding--the resemblance, I mean! You'realike as--as two peas. If you were twins--"

  "But you see," she smiled, "our mothers, Janet's and mine, _were_ twins,and I guess that accounts for it. I've never seen Janet, but this is thethird time, just recently, that I've been taken for her by her friends,Mr.--?"

  "My name is Bright," he supplied. "Howard Bright. Yes, now I can see aslight difference, Miss Dixon. You're a bit taller and broader acrossthe shoulders than she is. But it's your personalities, more thananything else, that are altogether unlike. I hope you'll forgive me,Miss Dixon, for making a nuisance of myself!"

  "No indeed--that is, of course I will!" Dorothy laughed merrily. "You'renot a nuisance, you know, but," and her tone became grave, "I can seethat you're in trouble. Is there--" she hesitated.

  "Not I, Miss Dixon--that is, not directly. But," he lowered his voice,"Janet is--is in very serious trouble. And for a moment, when I saw you,I thought that in some miraculous way she had escaped."

  Howard Bright's face suddenly became almost haggard and Dorothy'ssympathy and concern for her cousin deepened into resolve.

  "Look here, Mr. Bright," she said abruptly, "we can't talk here, in thisshopping crowd, it's a regular football scrimmage. Let's go up to themezzanine. A friend of mine is waiting there for me now, I'm a littlelate as it is, and--"

  "But I can't bother _you_ with this," he protested, "and especially--"

  "Oh, come along," she urged, "Bill is a grand guy when it comes togetting people out of messes. I insist you tell us all about it. Afterall, Janet's my cousin, you know, and you'll soon be a member of thefamily, won't you?"

  "There doesn't seem much hope of that now." Young Bright's tone wasdespondent. "But Janet certainly does need help, and she needs itbadly--so--"

  Dorothy caught his arm. "I'm going to call you Howard," she announcedbriskly. "So please drop the Miss Dixon. And come on--let's push our wayover to the elevators."

  The mezzanine floor of the department store was arranged as a lounge orwaiting room for customers. Comfortable arm chairs and divans invitedtired shoppers to rest. Writing desks and tables strewn with currentmagazines gave the place a club-like appearance.

  Dorothy and her newly found acquaintance stepped out of the elevator andlooked about. The place seemed especially quiet after the rush andbustle on other floors, and was almost deserted, save for two elderlyladies conversing in low tones near a window, and a young man, who roseat their approach.

  As the good looking youth moved toward them with the lithe, easy graceof a trained athlete, Howard Bright saw that he had light brown hair,and blue eyes snapping with vitality and cheerfulness.

  "Hello, Dorothy!" He greeted her smilingly, "better late than never, ifyou don't mind my saying so. I'd just about figured you were going topass up our date."

  "Sorry, Colonel," she mocked. "Explanations are in order I guess, butthey can wait. This is Howard Bright, Bill--Howard, Mr. Bolton!"

  The two young men shook hands.

  "Bolton--Dixon?"
Howard's tone was thoughtful. "Why!" he exclaimedsuddenly. "You two are the flyers--the pair who won the endurance testwith the Conway motor! I'm certainly glad to meet you both. The papershave been full of your doings. Well, this is a surprise! But you know,I'd got the impression that you were both older--"

  "I'm sixteen," smiled Dorothy. "Bill has me beat by a year."

  "How about lunch?" suggested Bill. He invariably changed the subjectwhen his exploits were mentioned. People always enthused so, itembarrassed him. "You'll join us, of course, Mr. Bright?"

  "Thanks, Mr. Bolton. I really don't think I can butt in this way--"

  "There's no butting in about it," Dorothy interrupted. "Howard isengaged to my cousin, Janet Jordan, Bill. And Janet's in a lot oftrouble. I've promised we'd do everything we can to help."

  Bill, after one look at Howard's worried face, sized up the situationinstantly. "Why, of course," he said. "And we can't talk with anyprivacy in this place. I can see that whatever the trouble is, it'sserious."

  "Janet's in desperate peril," Howard said huskily.

  "You said something about her escape when we met," Dorothy reminded him."Has somebody kidnapped her? Have you any idea where she is?"

  "Yes, she's a prisoner. A prisoner in the Jordans' apartment on West93rd Street."

  "Then her father is away?"

  "No. He leaves tonight, I believe."

  "But, my goodness!--a girl can't be kidnapped and made a prisoner in herown home. Especially if her father is there. It doesn't sound possible."

  "I know it doesn't," admitted Howard desperately, "it sounds crazy. Butit's the truth, just the same. She's in frightful danger."

  Dorothy looked horrified. "You mean that my uncle and Janet don't get ontogether--that they've had a row and you're afraid he will harm her?"

  "Oh, no, they're very fond of each other."

  "Then Uncle Michael is a prisoner, too!"

  "No, he is free enough himself, but he can do nothing--it would onlymake matters worse."

  "Well!" declared Dorothy, "I don't think much of Uncle Michael if hecan't protect his own daughter."

  Bill stepped into the breach.

  "What about the police--can't you call them in?"

  Howard Bright shook his head. "They would only bring this horriblebusiness to a climax," he explained. "And that is exactly what must notbe done. It is more a matter for Secret Service investigation--but Idon't think that even they could be of any real help."

  Bill and Dorothy exchanged a quick glance.

  "Have you ever heard of a man named Ashton Sanborn, Mr. Bright?"

  "Yes, I have, Mr. Bolton. Wasn't he the detective who helped you unearththat fiendish scheme of old Professor Fanely?"[1]

  "Bull's eye!" grinned Bill. "Only Ashton Sanborn is quite a lot morethan a mere detective. And it so happens that he is over at the Waldorfright now, waiting for Dorothy and me to lunch with him. Let me tellyou, Bright, it's a mighty lucky thing for Janet Jordan that he is intown. Come along. We'll hop a taxi and be with him in ten minutes."

  Howard hung back. "But really--"

  Dorothy caught his arm. "Don't be silly, now," she urged.

  "But I can't call in a detective, Dorothy. I know I'm rotten atexplaining, but if these devils who have Janet in their power areinterfered with they will kill her out of hand!"

  "But you spoke of the Secret Service just now. This is not forpublication, but Mr. Sanborn is the head of that branch of thegovernment. If anyone _can_ help Janet, he can do it."

  "I doubt it. I admit I'm half crazy with worry, but Janet is going to beremoved from the apartment tonight, and heaven only knows what willhappen then. It takes days, generally weeks, to get the governmentstarted on anything."

  "Not Sanborn's branch of it," interrupted Bill. "We're talking incircles, Bright. If Sanborn can't help Janet, he'll tell you so. Atleast you can give him the dope and find out. He's an expert and you'llget expert advice."

  "All right, I'll go with you. But I'm afraid it won't do any good.Please don't think, though, that I'm not appreciating the interestyou're taking. I don't mean to be a wet blanket."

  "Of course you don't, and you're not." Dorothy led toward the staircase."You'll feel a whole lot better when you get the story off your chest."

  "And when you've got outside a good substantial lunch," added Bill. "Iknow I shall, anyway."

  "That," said Dorothy, "is just like a boy. I believe you'd eat a goodmeal, Bill, an hour before you were hung, if it were offered to you."

  "I'd be hanged if I didn't," he laughed and followed her down the stepsonto the main floor.

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  Footnote 1:

  See Bill Bolton and The Winged Cartwheels.