  Turning, the two girls, with arms locked, walked slowly back toward their home cabin, but their gaze was following the rapidly disappearing boys. “My, how they did scramble over the rocks. I wonder why they went over the top. I’m sure one can see better from up there,” Dories turned to her friend to exclaim with enthusiasm. “Isn’t Dick Burton the nicest boy? I’m ever so glad he came. He’ll add a lot to our good times.” Nann nodded. “One can tell in a moment that Dick has been well brought up,” she commented. “Isn’t it too bad that Gib isn’t going to have a chance to make something of himself? I believe he would be a writer if he had an education. You know how imaginative he is and how he enjoyed telling us the story of the Phantom Yacht.” The girls sauntered along to the point of rocks and stood watching the waves break over the boulders that projected into the water. “Isn’t it queer how calm it is sometimes and how rough at others, and yet there isn’t a bit of wind blowing, and it’s as warm and balmy one time as another,” Dories said, then leaped back with a merry laugh as an unusually large breaker pursued her up the beach. “I think it may be the stage of the tides,” Nann speculated, “or else there may have been a storm at sea. O good! Here come the boys.” Dick’s expressive face told the girls of his disappointment before he spoke. “Didn’t see a thing unusual,” he said. “Of course we couldn’t go far because of the marsh.” “It sure is too bad the surf’s crashin’ in the way ’tis today,” Gibralter told them. “Here’s Dick, come all the way from Boston to stay till Sunday night, jest so’s we could go up that little creek in the marsh. He’s wild to get into the ol’ ruin, aren’t you, Dick?” “Yep,” the other boy agreed, “but if we can’t make it this week end, I’ll come down next.” Then with sudden interest, “How long are you girls going to be here on Siquaw Point?” Although Dick asked the question of Nann, it was Dories who replied. “Aunt Jane said this morning that she thinks we will be leaving in about ten days now. You see,” by way of explanation, “my elderly aunt came down here for absolute rest, and now that she is rested, we may go back to town sooner than we expected.” The four young people had seated themselves on the rocks. Nann put in with: “I, for one, don’t want to leave this place until we have cleared up a few of the mysteries.” Then, chancing to thrust her hand in the pocket of her sweater-coat, she drew out a half dozen slips of crumpled yellow paper. “Oh, Gib,” she exclaimed, “where in the world do you suppose these came from? We find them in the queerest places. We can’t understand in the least who is leaving them.” Gibralter’s face was a blank. “What’s that writin’ on ’em?” He picked one up as he spoke and scrutinized it closely. “In nine days you shall know all,” Dick read as he looked over his friend’s shoulder. “Know all o’ what?” Gib queried. The boys looked from Dories to Nann. The girls shook their heads. “We thought maybe you could help clear up some of the mysteries,” the latter said. “Have you ever heard of any queer person hanging around this beach? A hermit or a—a——” Gib leaned forward, his red-brown eyes gleaming. “D’y mean, mabbe, the lantern person that yo’ uns saw one night on the rocks?” Nann nodded. “We thought it might be someone who visited the ruin by night and—” the speaker glanced at the visiting boy, then interrupted herself to inquire, “Dick, do you remember whether your people left your cabin locked or not?” The lad addressed turned and looked at the cottage nearest for a moment as though trying to recall something. Then a lightening in his eyes proved that he had succeeded. Springing to his feet, he exclaimed, “I declare if I hadn’t forgotten it. I’m glad you spoke, Miss Nann. Mother said that in the hurry of getting away she wasn’t sure whether or not she had locked the back door. She always hides the key under the back porch, so that if any one of us comes down out of season, he can get in.” Then, when the others had also risen, Dick suggested, “Let’s walk around that way and see what we will see.” Dories glanced quickly at Nann and saw that her friend was gazing steadily at an upper window. She surmised that Nann was trying to decide whether or not to tell the boys that she had seen the blind moving, for, after all, how could she be sure but that it had been her imagination. The watcher saw Nann’s expression change to one of suppressed excitement, then she whirled with her back to the cottage and said in a low voice, “Everybody turn and look at the ocean. I want to tell you something.” Puzzled indeed, the boys and Dories faced about as Nann had done, and, to help her friend, the other maid pointed out toward the island. “What’s this all about?” Dick inquired. “Miss Nann, you look as though you had seen something startling. What is it?” Very quietly Nann explained how for the third time she had seen an upper blind open ever so little as though someone was peering out at them, and then close again. “You think someone is hiding in our cottage?” Dick asked in amazement. Nann nodded. “Well then, we’ll soon find out.” The city boy’s tone did not suggest hesitancy or fear. “You girls would better go over to your own cabin and wait until we join you.” It was quite evident that Nann did not like this suggestion, but Dories did, and said so frankly. “I’ll run home anyway,” she said when she saw how disappointed Nann was. “Probably Aunt Jane would like me to read to her.” And so it was that Nann accompanied the two boys around to the back of the Burton cottage. As before, the door creaked open, and very stealthily they entered the dark kitchen. This being the largest cottage in the row, the stairway was boarded off from a narrow hall; there being a door at the foot and another at the top. The one at the bottom was unlocked, and so the three investigators began the ascent, groping their way in the dark. “Wish’t we had along some matches,” Gib began, when Nann whispered, “I do believe that I have some. I took a dozen with us this morning. Yes, here they are in my watch pocket.” Dick, in the lead, took the matches, and as he opened the upper door, he scratched one. It very faintly illumined a long hall with a boarded-up window at the end. There were four closed doors along the hall. The one at the right front would lead into the room where a window blind had moved. Nann almost held her breath as Dick, after scratching another match, tried the door. It did not open. “Mabbe it’s jest stuck,” Gib suggested. “Let’s all push.” This they did and the door burst open so suddenly that they plunged headlong into the room and the flicker of the match went out. How musty and dark it was! Quickly another match was lighted; but there seemed to be no occupant other than themselves. The closet door, standing open, revealed merely row after row of hooks and shelves. There was no furniture in the room of a concealing nature. Nann went at once to the blind and found that it was swinging slightly. “Well,” she had to acknowledge, “I believe after all I was wrong in my surmise. Let’s get back. Dories will be worried about me.” Dick, before leaving the room, hooked the blind carefully on the inside, and, after closing the window, he remarked, “It’s queer Mother should have left a window open as well as the back door. But I remember now. She said that they were afraid of losing the train. Something had delayed them. I had gone on ahead to start school.” When they were again safely out in the sunshine, Nann inquired, “I wonder where your mother left the key. It isn’t in the door.” Before replying Dick went to one corner beneath the porch, removed a lattice door which could not have been discovered by anyone not knowing about it, reached his hand around to one of the uprights where, on a nail, he found the key hanging. He held it up triumphantly. Then, after locking the kitchen door, he replaced the key and the lattice, exclaiming as he did so, “I believe I understand now what happened. In the hurry, Mother put the key in the right place without having locked the door, so that’s that.” But Nann was not entirely convinced. The late afternoon fog was drifting in when the three started to walk along the beach. They saw Dories running to meet them. “Well, thanks be you’re all alive,” was her relieved exclamation. Nann laughed. “Did you think a cannibal was hiding in the Burton cottage?” Then she added, pretending to be disappointed, “I had at least hoped to find a ghost or a——” “Look! Look!” Gib cried excitedly, pointing beyond the rocks. “What? Where?” the girls scrambled to the top step of cabin three, which they happened to be passing, that they might have a better view of whatever had aroused Gib’s interest. “Is it the Phantom Yacht?” Nann asked, almost hoping that it was. “No, ’tisn’t that, I’m sure, because it isn’t white.” Gib continued to stare into the gathering dusk. “It’s some queer kind of craft, as best I can make out, and it’s scooting away from the shore at a pretty speedy rate and heading right for the island.” For a moment the young people fairly held their breath as they watched. Dick was the first to break in with, “Gee-whiliker! I know what it is! Stupid that I didn’t get on to it from the very first.” “Why, Dick, what do you think it is?” Dories inquired. “I don’t think; I know! It’s that seaplane! Look! There she soars. See her take the air! Now the pilot’s turning her nose, and heading straight for Boston.” “Whoever ’tis in that airplane is takin’ a purty big chance,” Gibralter commented, “startin’ up with night a comin’ on and fog a sailin’ in.” Dick was optimistic. “He’ll keep ahead of the fog all right, and those high-powered machines travel so fast he’ll be at the landing place, outside of Boston, before it’s really dark. He’s safe enough, but the big question is, who is he, and what was he doing over there close to the old ruin?” “Maybe he knows about that opening in the swamp,” Nann ventured. “I bet ye he does! Like’s not he has a little boat and goes up to the ol’ ruin in it.” “But where do you suppose his airship was anchored?” Dories inquired. “Probably in the cove beyond the marsh,” Dick replied, when Gib broke in with, “Gee, I sure sartin wish we’d taken a chance and gone out in the punt. I sure do. I’d o’ gone, but Dick, he was afraid!” The city lad flushed, but he said at once, “You are wrong, Gib, but I promised my mother that I would only go out in your punt when the tide was low, and when I give my word, she knows that she can depend upon it.” “You are right, Dick. It is worth more to have your mother able to trust you, when you are out of her sight, than it is to solve all the mysteries that ever were or will be.” Nann’s voice expressed her approval of the city lad. Gib’s only comment was, “Wall, how kin we go at low tide? It comes ’long ’bout midnight!” “What if it does? We can—” Dick had started to say, but interrupted himself to add, “’Twouldn’t be fair to go without the girls since they found the opening in the swamp. It will be low tide again tomorrow noon, and I vote we wait until then.” “O, Dick, that’s ever so nice of you! We girls are wild to go.” Nann fairly beamed at him. “Wall, so long. We’ll see you ’bout noon tomorrow.” This from Gib. Dick waved his cap and smiled back over his shoulder. “I can hardly wait,” Nann said, as the two girls went into the cabin. “I feel in my bones that we’re going to find clues that will solve all of the mysteries soon.” |
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