On Leslie’s arrival in camp, she found only Beth there. Something savory was steaming on the portable stove, which stood out under the trees, protected from any breeze too strong both by the natural screen and one manufactured from canvas.

“Soup to-night, Leslie,” said Beth. “Sarita thought that she could enjoy it. Step into the tent and see what you think of that water color. I finished it. Tell me that the sky looks like the one we see here!”

“Oh, it does, Beth,” called Leslie in a moment from the tent. Then she came out to help. “It is lovely, Beth, the prettiest thing you have done yet. Where is Sarita?”

“Back in the woods with her glass. The last I saw of her she was trailing a warbler and trying to find its nest. I think that she called it a redstart. She is ever so much better, though rather weak after that headache. Her throat is a little raw, but she will escape any further trouble, I think. I hope that Dal will get back in time for supper. I was almost worried about you, gone so long.”

“Peggy and Jack picked me up from the beach and I had a trip to Steeple Rocks. There doesn’t seem to be anything to do, Beth,—do you care if I go to hunt Sarita?”

“Not at all.”

Back into the fragrant woods Leslie strolled and met Sarita coming with Dalton by the little trail, now quite a path of their making, that led through the woods from the road.

The two were laughing and talking as they came and Dalton waved triumphantly a letter as he saw Leslie. “Letter from Jim Lyon, Leslie. We have the abstract of title safely reposing in our deposit box, where Jim says it had better stay. We are to refer Mr. Ives to him. This land never did belong to Mr. Ives. He sent me a little list of names of the owners. So Mr. Ives is—mistaken! In other words, it’s all a bluff, for some unknown reason, to get rid of us, or grab the land, or something.”

“Then we can go right on and have our shack! How grand! Sarita, if your head wasn’t shaky, we’d have a war-dance right here where they used to have ’em!”

“What’s the matter with Sarita?” Dalton inquired. “She does look a little peaked.”

“Oh, I’m all right now, Dal. Beth was sure that I was going to be sick, but it was only a sick headache, I think. Beth’s been doctoring me all day. My throat is a little raw and that’s all. Let’s hurry up to tell Beth the good news.”

“You have forgotten that she does not know the bad news.”

“Sure enough. Why not tell her now?”

“No,—I—think not,” hesitatingly said Dalton. “I’ve another letter for her from Jim,—I told him that she did not know what Mr. Ives said and that we are trying to keep her from worry. I transacted some business about the building, and that will be enough news for Beth about my trip. If Beth and Peggy don’t know, it will make relations less strained, I think.”

“I told Peggy to-day, Dal. I almost had to. Do you mind?”

“You have as much right as I have, Leslie, to manage affairs with Peggy. Tell me about it.”

“I will. I’ll tell nearly everything at supper, then we’ll have a private confab later. What do you think? I was at the very stronghold of the enemy,—Steeple Rocks!”

Leslie enjoyed the surprise of Dalton and Sarita, but she continued to speak of Beth. “We’d better let her have a little longer time to rest. This doesn’t spoil our fun at all, but she might worry and not sleep.”

Dalton wore a wide grin. “Your freedom from care shows your confidence in your natural protector,” said he, tapping his chest.

Leslie laughed with Sarita, but told her brother that he was more nearly right than he thought. “Under these circumstances I’d certainly hate to be here without you!”

“Thanks for the tribute, Les; I’m almost overcome, but I think that I can manage to get into camp without assistance.”

But Dalton pretended to stagger a little, while both laughing girls ran to his support just as they emerged from the deeper wood into the clearing. Elizabeth, watching the soup, looked up, startled to see Dalton apparently in need of help, but it was evident in a moment that it was only what she termed “some silly joke” as she summoned them to supper.

“Now Beth, don’t look at me in that tone of voice,” jovially urged Dalton. “See this letter that I have for you? Don’t halt supper, though, while you read it. I’m half starved.”

“I think that I can manage to wait until after supper,” dryly returned Elizabeth, but she flushed when she saw the letter.

“Nice old Beth,” crooned Leslie. “I’m doing all the clearing up after supper, and you shall have a free day to-morrow, too, shan’t she, Sarita?”

“I think so! Poor Beth would just get into some inspiring mood for her latest masterpiece, when she would happen to think that I ought to have some medicine, or a drink, or something.”

“Nonsense! I had a lovely, quiet day.”

But Beth was tired and after reading her letter she went to bed, while Leslie cleared away the evidences of the meal and washed the dishes with Sarita’s help. Dalton then built a fire out on the rocks which overlooked bay and sea and there they toasted marshmallows and talked, Sarita wrapped like a mummy, as she declared, to keep her from too strong a breeze. They put her in a sheltered spot, but they sat for a long time about the cheerful blaze, talking over the events of the day and other things.

Dalton gave the details of his trip to town more fully than he had done before Beth at supper. By the firelight the girls read again the letter from Mr. Lyon to Dalton. “Here’s what he says, Sarita,” said Leslie, leaning where the light would fall upon the page.

“‘I’m glad that you suggested our coming to Maine, Dalton. It may be possible, though we do not want to drive with a big camping outfit. Can such things be purchased near you? I believe that you ordered yours sent on. I may as well take my vacation there.’” Here Leslie pursed up her mouth and gave Sarita a comical glance.

“‘You may imagine how the children shouted when I read them your message. Marsh can not come, but Mary looked as if the mere suggestion of Maine breezes were refreshing. We are having very hot weather. I will wait to hear again from you before making definite plans.’”

“He will also wait to hear what Beth thinks, I imagine,” said Sarita.

“We can let them use the bungalow tent if we get some building done by the time they want to come,” Dalton suggested. “Now that we’ve had the brilliant idea of an Eyrie first, here on the rocks, that ought to be finished pronto, and its one big room will do for you girls if our company comes before the shack in the woods gets finished. That will take longer. But I’ve ordered lumber for the Eyrie and it’s going to back right up against the rocks. We are going to have a frame inside, then use the rocks around here for the outside, a real stone house, you see, girls, and I shall have it built with a little window looking over the rocks and out to sea, our real ‘lookout.’ You girls can help gather the smaller stones if you want to, and Beth may have, some artistic ideas.

“A man is coming to help me. I’ve ordered a wheelbarrow and a lot of things. Just wait till the truck comes to-morrow!”

“Shall you begin to cut down the trees that you have marked, Dal, now that you know our title is all right?”

“I am not sure. Cutting down trees will mean that someone from Steeple Rocks will be right over. I think that it might be better to get the Eyrie right up, with a lock on the door.”

“Aha! Our castle, Sarita!” cried Leslie. “You are right, Dal. Now let me tell you all about Peggy. She wants to be with us as much as possible, Sarita. It was too pathetic. Imagine not being happy with all the advantages that she has! But she told me that Mr. Ives is not her real father.”

Leslie paused to let this statement take effect. “Good!” Sarita exclaimed, and Dalton, too, nodded his approval.

“Then, her governess, too, is Some queer foreigner and an old Count Somebody, that is in some business or other with Mr. Ives, is there and her mother has worried ever since he appeared on the scene somewhere in Florida,—”

“I admire your definite way of telling the facts,” Dalton remarked.

“I want you to get only the main fact, Dal, the ‘atmosphere’ of Steeple Rocks. From what Peggy says it is clear that she is uneasy and that there is some mystery there. If we take Peggy into our society, Sarita, we are very likely to find out what it is, and anyhow the kiddie needs us, I think. She may be as old as we are in some ways, and again she is just a little girl. But she is true blue, I believe, nothing deceitful about her.”

“You can take her around on our launch, Les,” Dalton suggested. “I’ll be too busy for a while to take out the boats, and you can run the launch as well as I can now.”

“I’ll do it. We’ll cruise around and fish sometimes. By the way, Jack Morgan may come over to ‘help you with the building,’ he said, when he deposited me on our rocks; and Peggy announced that both of them would be over to-morrow.”

Dalton’s grin was again in evidence. “We’ll see who wins out, the folks that want to get rid of us, or those that want us to stay,” and to emphasize his remark, he threw another stick on the fire.

By the flickering light they strolled around to look at the place where the Eyrie was to be built. As in the case of the Steeple Rocks home, it could be built against the protecting rocks, in a natural “corner,” where the rocks of the headland might form almost two walls. But Dalton explained that it would be better to have a good frame inside, and both girls said that as Dal always knew what he was about they would leave it to him to show them by doing it.

It was quite late when Dalton left them, but Sarita and Leslie lingered. “Be in pretty soon, Dal,” said Leslie. They turned into a favorite corner of the rocks, where they, could perch upon one and see over a ledge. “Why, look, Sarita,” continued Leslie. “There is a big ship. See all the lights!”

“It is either moving very, very slowly out there,” said Sarita, “or standing still. Look! There’s a signal of some sort.”

Climbing around the rocks, careful of slipping in the dark, Leslie and Sarita found a post from which they could see the entire bay and its surrounding waters. Neither had said so, but each was wondering whether there might not be some answering lights from the village or from Steeple Rocks.

It was from the village, however, that a motor boat put out. They could hear the chugging sound of its engine and watched its light. It was eerie there, with the sound of the breakers, the faint noise of the little engine as it went farther away, the great dark headlands and woods, the misty air from the ocean. Sarita drew dose to Leslie and took her hand. “It is all so big that it scares me,” she whispered.

“I love it,” Leslie whispered back, “but I imagine that it’s just as well for nobody to see us here.”

“Let’s go back,” hastily said Sarita.

“If you want to, but who could see us in this dark?” Leslie looked up at the sky glittering with stars. “If it were moonlight it would be different. But perhaps we’d better not talk. Somebody might be snooping around to see if any of us were up.”

Sarita, not quite herself yet, sat down on the rocks at hand, but Leslie stood with deepest interest, watching the moving light. “Now they are there,” she whispered to Sarita; “Come on, child, I’m going to see you to bed and then come back with my flashlight to see where that motorboat comes back to,—don’t you admire my English?”

“I’ll wait with you, Leslie.”

“No, not after the day you have had. I ought to have been more thoughtful. Come on, honey-child, if only to save me from Beth’s reproofs.”

Leslie never knew how wise a move she had made, for when she and Sarita had been in the tent for a little while, moving carefully, with only an occasional flash of the flashlight, in order not to disturb Beth, a watcher among the rocks moved slowly away toward the village. Their fire on the rocks had been noted.

It was just as well, too, that Leslie waited for some little time after Sarita was in her cot before leaving the tent again. She knew that it would be some time, very likely, before the launch would return, especially if, as she thought, they were engaged in rum-running. In consequence, she, too, undressed, slipping on her warm bathrobe and her rubber-soled tennis shoes for her little venture. She grew sleepy as she sat for a little while on the edge of her cot, wrapped in a blanket. Then, when she found herself nodding, she roused with a start! Oh, she must have gone to sleep and it would be too late!

But she looked at her watch and found that only twenty minutes had passed since she and Sarita had come in.

It was a little spooky, Leslie thought, to go out to the rocks alone. She had half a notion to call Dalton, but when she tiptoed to his tent she heard his even breathing and had not the heart to waken him. Coming from the darkness of the tent, it did not seem so black under the starlight. She kept to the path and occasional flashes from her light showed her the ground before her. Their fire was out.

When she reached the spot where she and Sarita had stood, she was surprised to see the launch half way toward the bay. It had not taken them long to load, she thought. And a second surprise, though not so much of one, either, was to see the launch speeding in the direction of Steeple Rocks, not by way of the bay and the channel, but from the ocean, doubtless to the Ives’ bay.

Something, then, was to be taken from the ship to Mr. Ives. Perhaps it wasn’t liquor. Perhaps Mr. Ives was a jewel smuggler. Perhaps he wasn’t! Leslie laughed to herself at another idea. Mr. Ives was away. It might be that he himself was on board the vessel and was delivered here instead of being taken further down to the port. That was probably it. Still—