Project Gutenberg's The Secret of Steeple Rocks, by Harriet Pyne Grove
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Title: The Secret of Steeple Rocks
Author: Harriet Pyne Grove
Release Date: April 29, 2014 [EBook #45530]
Language: English
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[Illustration: To the girls' surprise they heard an exclamation.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE SECRET OF STEEPLE ROCKS
By HARRIET PYNE GROVE
[Illustration]
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING
COMPANY
Akron, Ohio :: New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright MCMXXVIII
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
The Secret of Steeple Rocks
_Made in the United States of America_
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE SECRET OF STEEPLE ROCKS
CHAPTER I
STEEPLE ROCKS
"Are you satisfied, Beth?"
Elizabeth Secrest turned with a smile to the two girls who had come up
behind her, their footfalls silent in the sand. "The world is mine," she
answered, with a comprehensive sweep of her arm and hand toward the
foaming surf which was almost at their feet. "Doesn't it _fill_ you,
some way?"
"Yes, Beth; I'm not myself at all. Here,--take these and look at those
towering rocks with them." Sarita Moore handed her fine glasses, all
shining and new, to the older girl, who directed them toward a distant
pile of rocks. There two rose high, irregularly decreasing in
circumference, and at this distance apparently pointed at their tops.
Below them massed the other rocks of the dark headland.
Elizabeth looked long and steadily. "Steeple Rocks!" she murmured. "I
wish that I owned them! But I would give them a better name. I'd call
them Cathedral Rocks. Doesn't the whole mass make you think of the
cathedrals,--the cathedrals that you and I are going to see some day,
Leslie?"
The third girl of the group now took the glasses which her sister
offered. "Sometimes, Beth, I can't follow the lines of your imagination;
but it doesn't take much this time to make a cathedral out of that.
_Are_ you happy, Beth?" There was a tone of anxiety in the question.
"Yes, child. Who could help being happy here? Look at that ocean,
stretching out and away--into eternity, I think,--and the clouds--and
the pounding of the surf. Think, girls! It's going to put us to sleep
to-night!"
"Unless it keeps us awake," suggested Leslie, "but I'm all lifted out of
myself, too, Beth. Imagine being here all summer! Look at Dal, Sarita."
Leslie pointed toward a masculine figure standing on the beach not far
in advance of them. "It's 'what are the wild waves saying?' to Dal all
right!"
Dalton Secrest, who had preceded his two sisters and their friend in
their visit to the beach and the tossing waves, stood facing the sea,
his hands in his pockets, his tall young body straight before the strong
breeze. He heard the girls' voices above the noise of the surf, as they
came more closely behind him, and turned with a smile as his sister had
done.
[Illustration: Map of Steeple Rocks]
"What great thoughts are you thinking Dal?" Sarita queried.
"Sorry that I can't claim any just this minute, Sarita. I was thinking
about what fish there are in the sea for me. When I'm not building the
shack I'm going to fish, girls, and I was wondering if the bay wouldn't
be the best place for that."
"Of course it would, Dal," Leslie replied, "but you can easily find out
where the fishermen get their fish. I thought at first that I should
never want to eat. It is almost enough to look. But now,--'I dunno,' as
the song goes!"
"We'd better be getting back to the tents," said Dalton. "Beth looks as
if she had not had enough, but I'll have to gather some wood for a fire
and by the time we have our supper it will be dark. We can watch the
sunset just as well from above." With this, Dalton Secrest linked arms
with the girls, and with one on each side of him ran as rapidly as sand
would permit to where Elizabeth had found a seat upon a rock back of the
sands.
"Come on, Beth. Time for eats. Les and Sairey Gamp are going to do the
cooking while you sit out on the point with your little pencil to
sketch."
"Don't you call me 'Sairey Gamp,' Dal Secrest," laughed Sarita.
"Never you mind, Sairey, you can get it back on me. If I have any time
left from building, fishing and bringing home the bacon, I shall be the
wild pirate of Pirates' Cove!"
"Listen to Dal!" cried Leslie. "You'd think that he had to support the
family! But I will admit, Dal, that if 'bacon' is fish, it will
certainly help out expenses."
Dalton fell back with his older sister, Beth, while the two others went
on, all directing their way to a spot some distance ahead, where the
climb to the upper level was not difficult. All four were exhilarated by
the new scenes, the beauty and almost mystery of the sea, the beach, the
rocks and crags, and the invitation of the singing pines where their
tents were pitched.
As anyone might surmise, their arrival was recent. Sensibly they had
pitched their tents first, while Dalton could have the assistance of the
man who drove them there; but after the necessary things were
accomplished they hastened to get as close to the sea as possible, for
none of them had ever seen it before.
It was one of the interesting spots on the much indented coast of Maine.
There were an obscure little fishing village, a bay, into which a few
small streams emptied, and a stretch of real coast, washed by the ocean
itself. It was this beach which the newcomers had just visited with such
pleasure, at a place varying in its outlines, from curving sands washed
by a restless sea to high rocks and half-submerged boulders, where the
water boiled and tossed.
As the summer visitors climbed the ascent, they noticed that in the
village at their left most of the fishers' cottages lay within easy
reach of the beach proper, from which the launching of boats was easy.
There was a dock, stout, but small. It was quite evident that no large
vessels came in.
The bay lay in the direction of Steeple Rocks, but the climb to reach it
would have been impossible from the beach. This was blocked by the high
cliff whose rocks reached out into the waves and curved around into one
side of the bay's enclosure, though gradually lowering in height. Much
farther away, around the curving, rocky, inland shore of the bay, and
across its quiet waters from this cliff, loomed the other more bulging
headland which reminded Beth of a cathedral in some of its outlines. But
Beth was an artist, and an artist had not named Steeple Rocks.
Dalton helped Elizabeth while the other girls scrambled up to the path
by themselves. "I do hate to play the invalid, Dal," breathlessly said
Beth, clutching her brother's arm. "What _is_ the matter with me,
anyhow?"
"Nothing in the world, Doc said, but being just played out. What do you
expect? You can't do a million things and teach school, for fun, of
course, on the side, and feel as frisky as a rabbit at the end of the
year. Just wait, old girl. We had to let you help us get ready to come,
but about two weeks of doing nothing and sleeping in this air,--well,
you will probably be able to help _me_ up the rocks!"
Leslie, meanwhile, was explaining to her chum Sarita how their property
included the smaller headland and its rocks. "There is right of way, of
course, but this is ours."
The girls were standing by this time high on the rocks, from which they
could look down and back, along the beach where they had been. At this
place the point ran out to its curving, jutting, broken but solid
rampart which kept the sea from the bay. Below them a few boats dotted
the surface of the bay. Sarita through her glass was watching a vessel
which was passing far out on the ocean.
"How did it happen, Leslie, that you never came here?" Sarita asked.
"You see, Father had just bought it the summer before he died. He had
been up in Canada and then down on the coast of Maine. He came home to
tell us of the place he had bought at a great bargain, where we had an
ocean view, a bay to fish in, and a tiny lake of our own. Then came all
our troubles and we had almost forgotten about it, except to count it
among our assets, pay tax on it and wish that we could raise some money
on it. But nobody wanted a place that had no good roads for an
automobile and was not right on the railroad, though, for that matter, I
don't think it's so terribly far."
"Yes, it is, Les, for anybody that wants to be in touch with
civilization, but who wants to be for the summer?"
"Well, as we told you when Beth said I could ask you to come along, it
is just what we want to camp in, and there are people near enough for
safety, besides the 'Emporium' of modern trade in the village, if that
is what one can call this scattered lot of cottages."
"It is more picturesque, Beth says, just as it is, and most of the
summer cottages are on the other side of the village, or beyond the
Steeple Rocks, in the other direction, so we'll not be bothered with
anybody unless we want to be. I like folks, myself, but when you camp
you want to camp, and Beth is so tired of kiddies that she says she
doesn't want to see anybody under fifteen for the whole three months!"
Sarita laughed at this. "She seemed jolly enough on the way."
"Oh, Beth is jolly and perfectly happy to come; but we did not have any
idea how worn out she was, simply doing too much and so afraid _we'd_
have too much to do to get our lessons. Why, when Dal and I waked up to
the fact that Elizabeth was almost a _goner_, we were scared to pieces.
She couldn't get up one morning after Commencement was over,--but you
remember about that and how we sent for the doctor in a hurry. My, what
a relief when he said that it was just overdoing and that she was to
stay in bed and sleep, and eat anything she wanted to!"
"She told me how you wanted to feed her every half hour."
"Yes," laughed Leslie, "and I tried all the good recipes in the cook
book, almost."
But the girls walked out on the point a little distance, then returned,
while Leslie, from her memory of her father's plan, pointed out the
place behind a windbreak of rocks where Elizabeth thought he intended to
build the "Eyrie." Strolling back from the Point, across an open space
partly grown with straggling weeds and grass, the girls entered the pine
woods, which was the thing of beauty upon the Secrest land. There Beth
was seated upon a box, watching Dalton build a fire.
"Ever and anon that lad shakes a finger at me, girls, to keep me from
doing anything," Beth said, in explanation of her idleness.
"Good for Dal," said Leslie. "Sarita and I are the chief cooks and
bottle-washers around here. Just sit there, Beth, and tell us what to
do, if we can't think of it ourselves. I see that you brought water,
Dal. Shall we boil it before drinking?"
"No; this is from the prettiest spring you ever saw. I opened some boxes
and set up the tables, so you can go ahead. I'm going to get a supply of
wood handy. We'll fix up our portable stove to-morrow, but I want to
have it in good shape, and then I thought that you girls would like a
camp fire to-night."
"Oh, we do!" cried Leslie and Sarita almost with one voice. "We'll have
hot wieners and open a can of beans. They'll heat in a minute. Dal, that
is a fine arrangement, fixing those stones for us to rest our pan on."
It was Leslie who finished these remarks, as she and Sarita busied
themselves with the work of supper and Dalton went back into the woods
again for more wood. They heard the sound of his hatchet as they put a
cloth on the little folding table and set it in a convenient place
outside of the tent. "The table will make a good buffet, but I want to
take my plate and sit on the pine needles."
"You will be obliged to, for want of chairs at present," said Elizabeth,
jumping up and insisting on being allowed to help. What a new atmosphere
it was! Here they were, off in the "wilds" and their own wilds at that,
with all sorts of happy experiences before them.
Dalton, whistling a popular song went about hither and yon, gathering a
supply of wood, lopping off undesirable portions of old limbs here and
there. Looking up at a sound, he was surprised to see a rough-looking
man approaching him. He was ill-featured, dark, grim, and of stalwart
build. Dalton, rather glad of his hatchet, stood his ground, waiting to
be addressed.
"What are you folks doing here?" the man demanded.
"This is our land, sir," replied Dalton, "and we have just come to camp
here for the summer." He felt like adding, "any objections?" but thought
that he would not be the one to start any trouble by impertinence. He
did not like the man's tone, however.
"How do we know that you own this land? I'd not heard of its being
sold."
"It can easily be proved. Our name is Secrest. My father bought this
several years ago."
"Is your father here?"
"Well, excuse me, sir, would you prefer to ask your questions of my
father? Are you the mayor of the village?"
"No; but any of us have a right to know what strangers are going to do."
"Perhaps you have, sir," said Dalton, in a more friendly way, "but it's
a free country, you know, and we own this piece of ground. I'm expecting
to camp here all summer, and to build a more permanent home, or start
one, for our summers here."
The man nodded. "Well, if that is so, and if you mind your own business,
you may like it. But it ain't healthy around here for snoopers, nor
folks that are too cur'ous. That's all." The man stalked away, tying
more tightly a red handkerchief around his neck, and hitching up the
collar of his rough coat. The ocean breeze was growing a little chilly.
But a thought occurred to Dalton and he spoke again to the man. "Wait a
moment, please. How about these woods and the places around here,--are
they safe for my sisters and our friend?"
"Yes, safe enough. It's too far from the railroad for tramps and thieves
and there ain't no good roads for the fellers with cars. The folks over
at Steeple Rocks growl about that."
"We have neighbors over in that direction, then?"
"So you didn't _know_ that. H'm. You don't know much about this place,
if your father did buy it."
"No. None of us were ever here before."
"And your father's dead."
Dalton looked up surprised at that, for he had purposely avoided
answering that question about his father. The man grinned a little. "I
reckon a kid like you wouldn't be talkin' about buildin' a cabin himself
if he had a father. Have you got a boat?"
"No, but we're going to have one."
"Remember what I said, then, about minding your own affairs."
Having no good reply to this, which Dalton resented, he curbed his
rising anger at this rude acquaintance and watched him stride in the
direction of the road, which wound through the woods some distance away.
"Well, your room is far better than your company," thought Dalton, as he
picked up his sticks, making a load of them. He wondered whether this
were one of the fishermen or not. He did not have the same speech as
that of the other New Englanders whom they had recently met. The man who
had brought their goods from the station had been most friendly,
answering their questions and volunteering all kinds of interesting
information about the country. It was odd that he had not mentioned the
people at Steeple Rocks, but it had so happened.
With such thoughts, Dalton went through the woods, whose wonderful pines
had so delighted them, and finally joined the girls, arranging his
firewood at a convenient distance. Leslie found little things for Dalton
to do and supper was hurried up. The table was used for buttering bread
and fixing sandwiches; then each with a loaded plate sought a place
around the fire, which Dalton heaped with firewood till it blazed as
hotly as was safe.
There was some scrambling around when the wind veered and blew the smoke
in the wrong direction, but the camp was more or less protected from the
direct breeze. Happy and hungry, the campers disposed of a good meal in
the midst of considerable fun and joking. Long acquaintance had made
Sarita like a member of the family. She and Leslie recounted amusing
incidents of their school year just ended, or consulted Dalton about
their plans for the camp and the Eyrie. Elizabeth woke to something like
her old fire and announced that she intended to go back to "sweet
sixteen" and play with the rest of them.
"Oh, Beth, bob your hair, then!" urged Leslie, running her fingers
through her own curly brown mop.
"Not much she doesn't!" Dalton objected. "I can't imagine Beth without
her piles of pretty hair. Who was that beau, Beth, that wrote about your
'waves of burnished gold'?"
Beth laughed. "I was very mad, then, when you infants discovered that
poem."
"Beth's hair is just a little too dark to be called 'golden,'"
reflectively said Sarita. "You might braid it and wear it over your
shoulders, Indian fashion."
"It would be in my way, my dear."
"Bob it, Beth!" again said Leslie. "Dalton is just like the rest of the
men about a girl's hair. Think how fine it will be not to have so much
to dry when you go in swimming."
"Don't you weaken, Beth," spoke Dalton, eating his last sandwich. "Think
of the 'artistic Miss Secrest' without her 'wonderful hair.'"
"Come now, folks, it's my hair. I'm not doing anything at all about it,
and what a waste of time and opportunity to discuss such a subject here!
Come on, girls, we must fix up the beds. Dal, please help us with the
cots, and did you think what a fine dresser that big box will make,
girls? It has a division in it, you remember. We'll set it on end, put a
cover on it over some paper, tack a curtain across, and there will be
our dressing table, with a big shelf behind the curtain. I'm wasted in
the schoolroom, Sarita. I ought to be an interior decorator. To-morrow
some of those pretty spruce limbs will make a fine background for our
mirror!"
"Beth! Did you honestly _buy_ that mirror in the store by the station?
Dal, it's the funniest thing you ever saw and we look crooked in it.
Beth must have liked it because it makes her look fat!"
Springing up, the party of four piled their plates and cups on the
table, where Sarita busied herself in repacking the food in its
containers and the others went into the larger tent. There trunks and
boxes had been left in confusion.
In a short time Dalton had the three cots up and took another to his own
tent, which stood opposite the larger one. Leslie had suggested the
arrangement, insisting that they must live on an "Avenue." Elizabeth and
Leslie were now drawing both woolen and cotton blankets from a big trunk
of supplies, together with four warm bathrobes. Sarita came in just in
time to seize upon hers with an exclamation of welcome. "We'll probably
want to sleep in 'em," she said, with an exaggerated shiver, putting on
the garment over her sweater while Leslie laughed at her.
Trunks were pulled around into place, boxes piled out of the way,
flashlights and the convenient bags or cases, with which they had
traveled, found and placed by their owners' cots. On the rude dresser,
to be made more attractive in the future, a candlestick, candle and a
box of matches stood ready if needed, "And if anybody lights the candle,
let him beware of burning up the place!" warned Beth.
"Her, not 'him,' Beth," corrected Leslie. "The only 'him' has a tent of
his own. I'm going to see, too, that Dal has enough blankets on his bed
and everything. No, keep out, Beth. Don't worry; I'll think of just
exactly what we have that he must have, too. Say, what did we do with
those towels? Thanks. Dal is grand to do things for us, but when it
comes to fixing up himself,--" Leslie ran across the boulevard, which
Sarita now called the space between the tents, and the girls smiled as
they heard her arguing with Dalton about something.
"Listen, Dal! It gets _cold_ up here. I've known girls that camped in
Maine. I know that you're hot-blooded and all that. I'll just tuck these
blankets in at the foot, and I know that you'll want to draw them up by
morning."
Some bass murmur came from her brother and then the girls heard Leslie's
more carrying voice. "No, I'll brace them back on this box and _then_
they won't be too heavy on your feet. Well, have it your own way, then,
but if you _freeze_, I'll not be responsible!"
Leslie was grinning herself, when she came into the girls' tent and saw
Sarita shaking with laughter, as she sat on the edge of her cot
undressing. "We'' couldn't help hear, Les!" she said. "The boulevard
should be wider. What was it beside the blanket discussion?"
"The last thing he said to me was 'Can't you let a guy go to bed?'--but
he was laughing and lifted the flap of the tent for me with a most
ridiculous bow. Dal's the funniest thing!"
"All the same I'd be scared to death, going to bed away off here, if it
wasn't for Dal across there."
"I imagine that I would be, too, though Beth and I have gotten used to
taking care of ourselves. Now you in bed first, Beth. You must get out
of the way of 'going over the house' to see if everything is all right.
I _will_ boss _somebody_!"
"You can boss _me_ all you please, Leslie. You may even tuck me into
bed," said Beth, looking so sweet with her long, light braids, that
Leslie walked right over, turned back the blankets on Beth's cot, almost
lifted the slight figure into place, tucked her in snugly and kissed her
soundly.
The first day in camp was over. Dalton had purposely said nothing about
the man of the woods. He would mention it to Leslie and Sarita in the
morning, but on the whole he expected no trouble. The fishermen reached
the bay, as a rule, from the ocean itself, rather than from the high
cliffs. There was little to bring anyone in that direction, except
possibly someone of their neighbors from Steeple Rocks. His question to
the man had been more to test his purposes, than for information, and
Dalton was sorry that he had not mentioned the target practice which he
had induced the girls to take up more as a safe means of defence than as
a sport, though he had not told them that.
But Dalton Secrest was of no timid sort. This was a new adventure and
promised much. What it was to include he did not yet know. There were to
be some moments not exactly "healthy," as the man had warned, though
Dalton himself was not responsible for unraveling the mystery of Steeple
Rocks.
CHAPTER II
PEGGY DESCENDS
Elizabeth, Dalton and Leslie Secrest were intelligent young people of
some culture and background, though that impression might not always be
given when Dalton or Leslie fell into the modern school vernacular.
Elizabeth, two years out of college, was more careful, inasmuch as she
was teaching drawing and other lines of school art to children and was
also the head of their little family.
It had all happened very suddenly, the death of the parents and the
plunge into partial self-support. Interest from the invested life
insurance furnished part of their income, and what Elizabeth called her
"munificent salary" the rest. Dalton earned enough outside of school
hours to help considerably. Elizabeth had insisted that he must finish
high school and now thought that he should take enough of their
principal to see him through college. This was a subject of argument
between them, for Dalton considered that out of the question. He had
just been graduated from high school and had prevailed upon his sister
to take the money for this adventure, particularly with the purpose of
finding out how valuable the property was for a possible sale.
Plans were all a little vague, but when the doctor ordered Beth
somewhere for change and rest, Leslie and Dalton executed the whole
affair, with Beth's advice and assistance. Enthusiasm had grown when
they came upon a letter outlining their father's plans for building what
he called the "Eyrie" and now that they were here, seeing upon the spot
their few but beautiful acres, and the limitless sea by which they lay,
values went up, mentally at least.
Beth of the "burnished locks," was not beautiful, but her golden-brown
hair crowned a delicate face with fairly regular features, steady blue
eyes, dreamy when they had a chance to dream, and a sensitive mouth. She
was slight and of medium height, twenty-three at her next birthday.
Dalton, eighteen on the day of his graduation, was most fortunately a
tall, strong lad, with a very practical turn. Vocational training had
fostered this and young as he was, Dalton expected, with some help, to
build a very respectable log cabin from the timber on the place. His
last two vacations had been spent in helping a carpenter and small
contractor. While his experience might not apply to handling logs, it
would help.
Leslie, like Dalton, was more of the brunette type, though not dark.
Brown hair and lashes, grey eyes, good features with a pleasing mouth,
laughing or firm as circumstances might demand, were her assets. She was
taller at not quite sixteen than her older sister, and according to her
own statement could not "draw a crooked line"; but she could play on
ukelele or guitar as well as on the piano at home, and she and Sarita
knew all the songs, old and new, that their generation afforded.
Sarita, brown-haired, brown-eyed, demure, pretty, half a head shorter
than Leslie and a few months younger, was the fortunate one of the party
in having a father. An easy-going step-mother let Sarita do very much as
she pleased, a delightful, though not altogether safe method of
management. But Sarita's pleasures were always harmless ones and
included those of her chum Leslie. Both girls were active, energetic and
capable, with many an enthusiastic scheme or ambition originating in
their fertile minds. Dalton sometimes called them the "self-starters."
After a trip with Dalton to view the little lake and to help him bring
water from the spring, the girls spent the morning of the second day in
arranging their camp quarters. Elizabeth, when challenged to bring forth
her curtains for their "dresser," surprised Leslie and Sarita by
producing them, deep ruffles that had once graced some home-made
dressing table. "They were in a trunk in the attic," Beth explained,
"and I thought that we could use them here in the Eyrie, if it ever gets
built."
The cots, trunks and the beruffled box took up most of the room in the
larger tent, but some perishable supplies were stored there; and Dalton
set about making what the girls called a chicken coop, to keep their
boxes of food stuffs from harm, all to be covered with a huge piece of
waterproofing.
While he was doing this, he had an opportunity to tell Leslie and Sarita
about his inquisitive visitor of the evening before. He described the
man and gave details of the conversation.
"What do you suppose he meant, Dal?" asked Sarita in some excitement,
her brown eyes growing larger. Leslie, too, was alert, scenting some
secret.
"Oh, I imagine that there is a bit of rum-running, perhaps," replied
Dalton, driving another nail. "We'd probably better take his advice
about minding our own business, though I will admit that it made me hot
to have a chap like that laying down the law. I'll make a few inquiries
among the fishermen. I've got to see about getting a boat, too. I
wouldn't do this, but we have to make our stuff safe from rain or little
foragers. What a waste of time it is to work here, Sarita."
"Yes, it is. Poor you, Dal--let's not have an Eyrie."
"Oh, I'll like building that, when I get at it. It isn't going to take
so long, when the materials come and the man who is to help me comes
with his helpers. I'm going through the woods some time to-day to mark
the trees that I want."
"Don't take the big lovely ones, Dal," said Leslie.
"No, I'll not. I shall select the trees with less symmetrical limbs or
placed where thinning out will be good."
"Do you know all about old-fashioned 'log-raising,' Dal?" Sarita asked.
"No, I don't know 'all' about anything, Sairey, but this man helps build
the new-fangled log houses that they have in the north woods, so I have
hopes. There! That's finished!"
"Look, Dal," suddenly Leslie said in a low voice, and Dalton turned to
see a gentleman riding among the trees and coming toward them.
The little camp had been placed back a short distance in the grove,
where a more open space occurred, with smaller trees and bushes. It had
pleased Elizabeth here, though she said that she was being cut off from
a view of the sea. But it was better so, more retired, and the smaller
trees were, safer neighbors in a storm than the tall ones. Lovely ferns,
vines entwining the trees, and wild flowers grew about them.
Beth was in the tent, still straightening and unpacking but the three
outside watched the pretty horse and its straight rider. The gentleman
dismounted, fastened the horse to a tree, and walked toward them.
"Good morning," he said, and the young people returned the greeting.
Everything was in perfect taste about the riding costume, Leslie
noticed. The gentleman rather nervously flexed a small whip in his
gloved hands and looked sharply with keen black eyes from one to
another, addressing Dalton in particular. "I am told that you have
purchased this place and are about to build a house of some sort upon
it."
"Yes, sir. My father bought the ground something over two years ago."
"Are you sure that the purchase was completed?"
"Yes, sir. We hold the deed and I preserved the check that my father
gave for the land, when we came across it in going through his papers."
"Where is the deed?" The gentleman spoke a little abruptly, Leslie
thought. Who in the world could he be?
"The deed is in the bank at home, but I suppose if you want to assure
yourself of our right here, you could consult the records here. I'm not
sure just where the place is where the deed was recorded, but my sister
will know. Leslie, please ask Beth to come."
"That is not necessary," impatiently their caller said. "I am sorry to
tell you, but I am quite sure that your title is not clear. I understood
that this land belonged to me. It is certainly included in the
description upon the deed that I hold."
"It is very strange," said Dalton. "I think that you must be mistaken.
When did you purchase the land to which you refer?"
Leslie was proud of Dalton. He talked just like Father and was so
dignified and nice without being "mad."
The gentleman hesitated. "It is part of a tract which I acquired some
time ago. If I were, you I would not go on building, for I should
certainly not sell this land on the bay. It is too bad, but why can you
not look up a camp at some other place upon the coast? I know of several
excellent places to be purchased at a low price. Indeed, considering the
matter from your standpoint, I might part with a strip of land some
forty miles from here for merely a nominal price."
The man was almost fascinating when he smiled in this persuasive way,
Sarita was thinking, but why so suave and urgent?
Dalton smiled. "If I have to prove that I own it, so do you," he said,
"and I think that I will not consider anything else just now. Perhaps it
would be just as well not to go on with the building, though I have
already ordered some material. If this should prove to be your land, I
will pay you for occupancy, but we'll just continue to camp here. My
older sister is very tired after her teaching and likes this place. My
father's plans were all made and we expect to carry them out in part.
But we will not destroy anything, and I will not cut down the trees that
I intended until we look into the matter at the courthouse."
That this did not please the gentleman was quite evident. He frowned. "I
should like you to leave at once," he said at last.
"I do not intend to leave at once, sir," sharply said Dalton. "May I ask
your name?"
"Yes. I am the owner of Steeple Rocks and have my summer home there. I
should advise you to leave. My name is Ives. I am wondering if you are
yet of age. I understand that your father is not living?"
"No, I am not of age, and it is true that my father is not living."
"Who, then, is the executor of your estate?"
"My sister is executrix, the older one. We have a friend, though, who is
our lawyer whenever we need one. If necessary, I can write to consult
him about this; but you can easily find out whether or not our deed is
recorded."
"That is not the question, young man. The question is whether the man of
whom your father bought the land had any right to it. You will avoid
trouble if you leave the place. My lawyer will look into the matter. A
few days, of course, will make no difference. There is a truck on my
place which I should be willing to lend you for the transfer."
With a business-like air, Mr. Ives took a card from his pocket and wrote
something upon it with a shining gold pencil. Dalton, Leslie and Sarita
watched him with various expressions. Dalton's face was firm and sober.
Leslie's eyes were contracted a little as if she were sizing up a
suspicious character. Sarita wore a look of bright interest. This was an
adventure.
Handing the card to Dalton, Mr. Ives said, "That is the name of the
little village where I can permit you to camp, or can offer you land
with a clear title. One reason that we like this place is its
comparative isolation and we want to keep our holding large and intact.
But you would doubtless enjoy more companionship and that you will find
in the other community. The homes are scattered, however, and the beach
and views are beyond criticism. As I said, in view of your
disappointment about this, I can afford to be generous."
Dalton glanced at the address on Mr. Ives' personal and listened to what
was said. "I see your point, Mr. Ives," he replied, "but none of us
intend in any way to disturb the quiet of Steeple Rocks. We, too, like
the wildness of the place, as well as the feeling that we are on land
that our father admired. My sister is an artist and rocks and woods
appeal to her. Thank you for the offer of the truck, but we'll not be
moving till we find out definitely the facts in the case."
"If you will call, I will give you such information as you want about my
ownership," Mr. Ives said, in the tone of speaking to an obstinate boy.
Quickly he turned away, and a silent group watched him until he
disappeared among the trees. Then Sarita dropped to the ground and sat
holding her knees. "Well, what do you think of that!" she cried, "Going
to tell Beth, Dal?"
"No; not a word, please, girls. Beth is too happy to have her fun
spoiled and her sleep disturbed by a new problem." Dalton sat down on an
old stump and Leslie dropped beside Sarita.
"She got out her pencils and paints and things a little while ago," said
Leslie, "and she was unpacking her easel when I left the tent. That
accounts, perhaps for her not coming out. I wonder she didn't hear Mr.
Ives. There she comes, now."
"Let me handle it, please, Les," said her brother in a low voice.
"Hello, Beth, getting ready to paint up the place?"
"Yes, I'm taking my easel out on the rocks. I must get a sketch right
away of the bay and Cathedral Rocks. I thought I heard another voice out
here, but I was too lazy and busy with my traps to come out."
"You don't want to see anybody, do you, Beth? Well, this was only the
man that lives across the bay, or around the bay, as you like, the man
of Steeple Rocks. I imagine that he wouldn't mind your sketching them.
What do you think, girls?"
Dalton's voice was so sarcastic that Beth laughed. "You didn't like him,
that's certain. I'm glad that I didn't come out. He can't help my
sketching his rocks, however. Oh, isn't it too glorious here! I thought
that you were going to take a swim as soon as the tide was right."
"The girls are, I guess, and I'm tempted, too; but Beth, I think that
I'd be more sensible to hike out and see about our building affairs and
one thing and another. I may get a horse in the village and ride to the
station, too, to see about the other junk that's to come. You won't be
afraid without me, will you, girls?"
"No, indeed," Leslie declared. "Besides, Sarita and I are going to put
up our target and practice a little. Bail us out if we get arrested for
shooting, Dal. But if they hear it at the village at all, it may warn
anybody of 'hostile intent.'"
"I don't like to hear you speak in that way, Leslie," said Beth, with
decision. "It is right for you to learn, I think, but use the greatest
care, please. Load just before you try for the target and be sure that
all your cartridges have been exploded. If you never get reckless or
careless it is all right. You'd better fix your target in front of the
rocks, too. Then there will be no possibility of someone's coming
through the trees to get shot."
"My, Beth, you think of everything don't you? We'll not do it at all, if
it makes you nervous, and I promise you, up and down and 'cross my
heart,' that no 'weepon' is going to be left loaded. In case of an
attack by Indians, we shall have cartridges handy anyhow."
"In case of a _large_ band of Indians," grinned Dalton, rising from the
stump, "there are plenty of cartridges in my tent."
"Just think," said Sarita, looking around at the spruces and ferns,
"once there were Indians all over this place. I 'spect they liked it,
too."
"I 'spect they did," returned Dalton, "and I 'spect that they and the
white men had a great time trying to drive each other off." With his
back to Beth, Dalton winked at Leslie. "Girls," he added in a new tone,
"whatever happens, I'm going to take one dip with you. Come on.
Everybody into bathing suits!"
Beth was already strolling toward her rocks, but one more unusual
adventure was in store for the others. It was not quite as convenient as
if their property sloped directly to the beach, but the trail was not
long to a descent whose footing was not too impossible.
Presently they were on their way, Dalton running ahead, with his
bathrobe over his arm, the girls in their coats over their bathing
suits, for the breeze was a little cool. Yet the sun was warm, and the
lapping waves of a smooth sea invited them.
"Dal says," Leslie was saying, "that he is going to find out where the
deed is recorded and he may be able to get into touch with the man of
whom Father bought the place. He doesn't know when he'll be back. Let's
get Beth to bed early to-night. It will be easy, because she is ordered
to do it, you know. Then she won't know if Dalton doesn't get back. Will
you be afraid?"
"Very likely, but it has to be done. Mr. Ives looked rich. Don't you
suppose that he could even get the records fixed up if he wanted to?"
"I don't know. I should imagine that we'd have some account of the
recording, some receipt, or something. I don't know much about such
things, but Dal will find out, and Beth, too, if we have to tell her.
Oh, if Beth can have only a few weeks of rest, it will be enough! Mercy,
what's that?"
The girls looked back along the narrow, weed-grown trail. A loud
clattering on the rocky way announced the coming of a horse at some
speed. The girls drew off among some bushes. They were startled to see a
great black horse dashing over the uneven ground and a frightened girl
clinging to reins and saddle, with no control of the animal. A white
face and tight-set lips flashed by, as the horse swerved suddenly,
almost unseating its rider. Then it dashed on.
"It shied at us," said Sarita. "Look. She's trying to shake loose from
the stirrups--to jump, I suppose. My! There's that pretty nearly
straight-up-and-down place just beyond where we go down to the beach!"
Leslie set her teeth together and shivered. "Poor girl! But perhaps the
horse won't fall. At that pace I'm afraid it will kill her to jump."
Both girls started to run forward, as a turn in the cliff and the trail
took the horse and its rider out of sight for a few moments, behind a
clump of wind-blown pines and some bushes. But the girls hurried around
to where they could see the road again, and they wondered where Dalton
might be. "If Dal has gotten to the beach," said Leslie, "we'll have to
call him to help, in case of a bad accident."
"It is pretty level after that one place," Sarita answered, "and perhaps
someone at the village will catch--"
But they heard a frightened scream. Now they could see the scene
clearly. What was the girl doing? And there stood Dalton at the side of
the trail opposite the cliff's edge. His feet were apart, bracing his
body, for his arms were outstretched to catch the girl. There went a
flying, falling figure,--and Dalton, under the impact, fell too. What a
crash among the bushes!
CHAPTER III
PEGGY IVES
The running girls reached the scene just as Dalton and the girl who had
jumped from the horse were picking themselves up and out of some
blackberry bushes. Leslie was relieved to see that Dalton was
disentangling himself with all his limbs in working order.
"Oh! oh! Didn't I _kill_ you, falling on you that way? I ought to have
known better, but you held up your hands, you know. Say, I could have
chosen some bushes that weren't _blackberry_ bushes, though!"
Somewhat hysterical Leslie thought the young lady, but when she knew her
better, she found that this was Peggy Ives' usual style of conversation.
"Just look a little farther on and you will see why any bushes would
do," said Dalton, pulling a long blackberry branch from her dress and
giving her his hand to help her up.
"Say, you are all scratched up, too, and you even had the sense to throw
your robe over the bush,--not that it did much good! I'm full of
prickles, but I am certainly much obliged!"
By this time the young girl was on her feet, looking questioningly at
the girls who had stepped up closely.
"Are you hurt, Dal?" Leslie inquired.
"Not to amount to anything,--a few scratches."
"And a bump or two," added the new acquaintance.
"I caught you sideways," said Dalton, "and only eased your fall. Are you
sure that you are whole?"
"Oh, yes. I'm not feeling so good, but neither are you. My name is Peggy
Ives."
"Mine is Dalton Secrest and this is my sister Leslie."
Leslie, rather ashamed of having asked after her brother's safety first,
held out her hand to Peggy and asked if she could not help get out some
of the prickles. Sarita was introduced while they drew out of the bushes
and crossed the trail to the edge of the cliff, where there were rocks
to make seats for them.
Peggy limped a little and Leslie put an arm around her, finding Peggy a
slim little thing, glad of someone to lean upon. Dalton still stood by
the blackberry bushes, getting rid of briars, and wiping off the result
of some scratches, with a handkerchief which he had found in his
bathrobe pocket.
"What became of my horse?" Peggy asked. "Did either of you see it?"
"Yes," Sarita answered. "He ran on and fell, but he must have picked
himself up, for I looked down the road a minute ago and he wasn't
there."
"I am going to 'catch it' at home. Oh, here they come!"
They all looked up the road, in the direction of Steeple Rocks, to see
Mr. Ives and a pleasant-looking youth of perhaps Dalton's age. Both were
riding, their horses carefully held in to keep them from stumbling. "Did
you get thrown, Peggy?" the boy asked, as Peggy rose and limped out
toward them.
"No. I jumped. That boy over there--"
"Never mind, Peggy," said Mr. Ives impatiently. "Jack says that you
bolted into the woods and left him. Where is your horse?"
"I don't know. This girl says that she saw him roll down the hill, but
he isn't there now. They were ever so kind to me--"
Peggy seemed fated to be interrupted, for Mr. Ives again broke in upon
her speech to direct the boy to give Peggy his horse and go down into
the village to find the other. "If you can't find him, go to Bill's and
get a horse to bring you home."
Peggy was helped upon the other horse, after a vain effort to introduce
Mr. Ives to the girls. Dalton had thrown his bathrobe around his
shoulders and started for the beach as soon as he had seen the Ives
delegation approaching. "I have met them, Peggy," Mr. Ives had said
shortly. "You did not see me bow to them."
"Neither did we," said Sarita, a moment after Peggy, looking back with a
smile and wave, had ridden away.
"Neither did we what?" asked Leslie.
"See Mr. Ives bow to us."
"Well, he gave us a look anyway, and maybe he did bow. I didn't think
about it."
"Scene number two in the Secrest-Ives meller-dramer!" Sarita went on.
Leslie laughed. "What brilliant idea have you now, Sarita? What was
scene number one? Mr. Ives' appearance?"
"Yes. Villain appears, threatens hero. Scene two, villain's daughter
rescued by the hero. Leading lady, star of the movies, yet to be
discovered. Perhaps she is the villain's daughter."
"She is a nice little thing, isn't she? I imagine that she is a little
younger than we are, but it's hard to tell. She has a funny
streak,--telling Dal that she could have chosen the bushes!"
"I liked her, and Mr. Ives can be just as nice as pie, but he wants to
get rid of us, that's clear, and he doesn't like it that Dal isn't more
upset and scared about it."
"Smart girl. That's what I think, too. But I wouldn't say that he is
really a 'villain.' Perhaps he is right. Wouldn't it be _too_ bad if
there was something crooked about the title and Father didn't know it!
The only thing is, I can't imagine that Father would buy a piece of land
without knowing all about it."
"And your dad a lawyer, too!"
"Exactly. But look at Dal, going in anyhow! The salt water will nearly
kill him with those scratches!"
They did not stay in the water long on this first occasion, but they all
found it invigorating and Dalton insisted that after the first he did
not notice the scratches. "I'm hurrying off now," he said, after they
came out of the water. "I'll probably have to get the name of the man
Father bought the place of from the deed. I wish we'd brought our deed
with us. Perhaps Beth will remember it, and I can ask her casually, 'by
the way, Beth, do you remember,' and so forth?"
"I'll ask her, and tell you. You'll not be dressed before we get there."
"No. Take your time. Don't hurry Sarita up the cliff and maybe have some
accident yourself. Turned out to be Ives' daughter?"
"Yes, I suppose so, by the way he bossed her, and her name is Peggy
Ives. Didn't you kind of like her?"
"A smart little thing. She screamed just before she jumped; but she was
plucky about her bruises. I shouldn't be surprised but she sprained her
ankle. Get acquainted, girls. Perhaps the stern parent will relent
toward us."
"I think I see ourselves calling at Steeple Rocks! You'd better go.
_You_ have been invited, you know."
Dalton laughed and ran on, his bathrobe flapping about his ankles.
But like Peggy, Dalton was not feeling "so good." He had fairly thought
at the impact that his shoulder was broken or dislocated. Then he found,
as they picked themselves out of the blackberry briars, that it was not.
The cold sea water felt good to it and he gave himself a vigorous
rubbing both in and out of the water, not trying to swim out far from
shore, a sensible plan in any event, since they did not know the coast
here. Now his shoulder ached.
When Leslie came into the little camp, shortly after his own arrival, he
called to her. "Any of that liniment, Les, that I use?"
"Yes, Dal. Do you suppose that Beth would go anywhere with you along and
no liniment?"
Dalton heard Sarita laugh at this.
"I didn't know, Leslie," Dalton returned. "I didn't expect to play
football up here, you know. Please hunt me up the bottle,--that's a good
girl!"
Leslie made no reply, for she was already hunting the liniment. Handing
it in through the flap of the tent, she said, "Let me rub your shoulder
for you, Dal."
"Thanks. I'll do it this time, but it knocks out my going anywhere with
my good clothes on. Did you ever see such luck!"
"Don't worry, Dal. If Mr. Ives really is going to do anything mean, all
he would have to do would be to telephone somebody to fix it up and that
would get ahead of you anyhow. It is too late to go to-day, seems to me.
Get up early to-morrow morning and start."
"Perhaps I will, but I'll go to the village and get some means of
transportation arranged for."
Shortly Dalton was out, arrayed in his camp outfit, an old shirt and a
sweater covering the aching shoulder. But he looked more dogged than
happy as he started down the trail again, and Sarita remarked to Leslie
that Dalton was blue.
"I believe that he is more worried over what Mr. Ives said to us than he
will say. But I'm not going to worry. Whatever is right will be found
out, I hope, and anyhow we are in this lovely country. It wouldn't cost
much to put our things in a truck and go somewhere else, but not on any
old land of Mr. Ives'! We could rent a spot near here. But what I'm
wondering about is if he has any reason why he wouldn't want us to stay
around. There are other tourists, though, in cottages."
"But none so near Steeple Rocks, Leslie, or on the bay. Maybe he just
wants what he thinks is his own land."
"Or _wants_ to think it."
As so often it happens, the day had turned out entirely different from
their plans. Instead of target practice the girls chose other pursuits.
Elizabeth was absorbed in her first successful sketches. Dalton brought
back from the village some fine fish and reported that he had found out
how to get to the county seat, where the deed would be recorded. He had
found someone at the village who would drive him there.
Elizabeth was not admitted to this news, but after their delicious
supper, she officiated as chief nurse in making Dalton comfortable. The
other girls had given her the details of the accident.
"It will do no harm to wait a little in seeing about your building,
Dalton," consolingly said Beth, gently rubbing in the liniment. "By
morning, though, this will feel better, I am sure."
"Gee, your hands are soft, Beth. You are as good as Mother used to be!"
"That is about the nicest thing you could say to me, Dal," returned his
sister. "I've been a poor substitute, but I have wanted to take her
place a little."
"You are all right, Beth," said Dalton, with boyish embarrassment over
sentiment expressed. "You've had to do Father's job too. _Boy_, that
feels the best yet! Do you know what I'm going to do, Beth?"
"I am no mind-reader, Dal."
"Well, I've decided to put off building or even cutting the trees for a
week or two. I'll fish and poke around in a boat, seeing the place. You
and the girls will want to come along sometimes, too. We'll go out and
get you fine views of the shore and beach and all the rocks you want to
sketch. And the next fish we eat may be what we have caught. How do you
like lobster and shrimps, Beth?"
"I am perishing for some!"
"Here's the boy that will get them for you!" Thus Elizabeth accepted the
change of plan without being troubled by a knowledge of the cause.
CHAPTER IV
"SNOOPERS"
The camping adventure developed rapidly and more pleasantly during the
next few days. Elizabeth was enthusiastic, sleeping soundly, taking a
daily dip or two with the other girls and adding to the really good
sketches which she was making either in the woods or on the cliffs and
shore.
Dalton returned from his trip to the county seat with the news for
Leslie and Sarita that the deed had been properly recorded. Someone at
the courthouse had asked Dalton, in connection with some inquiry of his,
whether he had an abstract of title or not. This Dalton did not know and
he promptly wrote to their lawyer friend to inquire.
"If we have, Leslie, I'd like to see Mr. Ives get around that."
"Perhaps he just wanted to frighten us and get us away. Could he be
connected with rum-running, do you suppose?"
"Men apparently as honest as he _are_," Dalton replied, "but unless it
is on a large scale, I scarcely think so. I've put it up to Jim Lyon,
anyway. I wouldn't be surprised if he took a vacation and came on. I
offered him a bunk with me,--you wouldn't mind, would you, Les?"
"It wouldn't do, especially as he likes Beth; but there would be some
place that he could stay, or he could have a camp of his own."
"He could bring his sister and the kiddies, too," Sarita suggested.
"Of course! There is a lovely place for a camp right on our little lake.
It would have been much more convenient for us, too, only we wanted to
be nearer the ocean. Write again and suggest it, Dal. Mrs. Marsh looked
sort of wistful when we were talking about going and wished that they
could afford a trip. If Mr. Marsh can't get away, why couldn't they put
the youngsters in the old Ford and drive through?"
"Write and suggest it, Leslie. Jim has a key to our deposit box, and I
imagine that if we have an 'abstract' or a 'guarantee of title' it's in
there. I don't remember; but there were a lot of papers and things that
I never looked at. Now I'm going to have a good time fishing. I found
out who sold the place to Father, and I've written to him,--so let
nature take its course while we camp. I met a chap on the train that has
a motor boat, a regular little yacht, he says, and he has invited me to
go out with him. Then I'm getting a little boat of our own _with an
engine in it_, Les, and it is big enough to sail the briny all right,
except in a storm, perhaps."
This was a great surprise to Leslie and Sarita, who greeted the news
with enthusiasm, though Leslie remarked that she did not suppose he
ought to have taken the money.
"Well, Leslie, it is my money, and I got this at a wonderful
bargain,--you will be surprised. It belongs to a man at the county seat
and he is starting to leave the state altogether, after being accustomed
to spend the summers here, you know. He almost gave the little boat
away. I took a big chance, of course, for I haven't seen it, but he said
that if it wasn't what he said it was, I needn't finish paying for it.
He took a chance on me, too, for I only gave him a small payment. But
I'll send him a check as soon as I see it. It's in a boat house at the
village."
The girls could scarcely realize their good fortune, but Dalton rather
dreaded telling Elizabeth. He spent some little time thinking how to
approach the subject diplomatically and then gave it up when the time
came. Elizabeth did look sober and warned Dalton that he was using money
which should be saved for his further education; but she, too, was
pleased with the thought of the trips that they would take together. Was
the outdoor life making her think less of the "welfare of the children?"
The boat was in fairly good condition, Dalton found, though he had it
carefully gone over, helping in this himself. At odd times, he and
Leslie began to make a way down to the bay from the rocks, to a place
which Dalton thought would be suitable for the boat. Nature had provided
most of the steps, but there was one stretch where it was necessary to
assist nature and make a safer footing. Then a rope, fastened above and
below, would give confidence, for a fall would not be pleasant if it
ended on the rocks on the edge, or in the water. On a ledge above the
water, one then walked to a small cove.
There, at the most protected part of the bay, where the higher part of
the cliff began to start out into the curving point or arm which formed
a real breakwater, the new boat should lie. But Dalton spent only a part
of his time on these preparations. In a rented boat he and the girls
rowed out on the bay and examined its every cove. "Snoopers," Sarita
said they were, and Leslie remarked that so far their observations _had_
been "healthy" for them, which reference Elizabeth did not understand.
But then she did not always understand the jokes of the younger girls.
She had her own thoughts and dreams and seldom inquired about apparently
trivial matters.
Several times when they were on the bay they saw the rough man of
Dalton's first acquaintance. But he paid no attention to them and gave
Dalton no opportunity to nod or speak, if he had wanted to do so.
Bay and sea were often dotted with fishing boats that either remained or
went out to a greater distance or to other points along the coast. The
girls began to talk learnedly about codfish and mackerel, lobster,
haddock and halibut. They did not tire of the sea food and Elizabeth
came back to earth enough to discover how to cook most effectively the
fish which Dalton, Leslie and Sarita caught.
At last the day came when the new boat was ready. Launched at the
village, it contained its young owner at the wheel and a boy of about
Dalton's age, who was fussing about the engine to see that it was
working properly. Leslie and Sarita were in the bow, uttering mild
squeals of delight at the way the little vessel cut the water, as they
went some distance out into the ocean, preparatory to entering the broad
mouth of the bay.
When they were ready to turn and enter the bay, the young mechanic, Tom
Carey by name, took the wheel and showed Dalton what part of the bay to
avoid, though the entrance was large enough and without any rocks in its
deep waters. "But keep away from the little bay or cove under Steeple
Rocks," said Tom. "The buoys, of course, warn you."
"It is safe enough with a flat boat, isn't it?" Dalton inquired. "I came
very near rowing in there the other day, but there was that buoy with
'Danger' on it and I put off my going till I should ask what is the
matter."
"Matter enough. I suppose that it is years since anyone has tried to go
into the bay from this side. Around the other side of the headland,
though, there are the boats that belong to the Ives' place and they get
out into the bay here by that rocky channel you see. It's wide enough,
and luckily there is that sort of a long bar of broken rocks that
separates their dock from Pirates' Cove. That is what the smaller bay is
called. There is a terrible current or undertow, they say, and the last
person that ever went in over there never came back. Folks saw the boat
drift in under the rocks and not a scrap of the boat was ever seen
again, and the man seemed to be knocked over by the rocks. Nobody ever
saw him again, either. He was some sort of a foreigner. It's funny how
many foreigners we get here."
"Where do they come from?" asked Leslie, who had come to watch the
proceedings when the bay was entered.
"I guess that some of them come over from Canada," replied Tom. "They
don't stay very long, as a rule, though there is one family of Russians
that has been here for several years. They seem to have a lot of
relatives that visit them, especially in the summer. Bill Ritter, too,
always has a lot working for him that can't speak good English or don't
speak English at all. They may come from the fisheries down the coast.
Bill's Swiss, they say."
"What does he do?" idly asked Leslie, watching the waves.
"He fishes; and I think that he supplies the Steeple Rocks folks with
fish and lobster. He's always going there. You've probably seen him.
There he is now in a rowboat."
Dalton looked in the direction to which Tom nodded and saw the darkly
red, sunburned features of the man who had spoken to him in his own
woods. "Yes, I've seen him before. And that is the boat from which
somebody waved to me, when I was over by Pirates' Cove. It was probably
Bill that pointed out the buoy with the danger sign. When he saw me row
to it and read it, he rowed away. He must have been rowing towards me
before. I'm much obliged to Bill. Look at him, Leslie. That is the man I
was telling you about."
Leslie, with a quick, understanding look at her brother, gazed in the
direction of the rowboat to which they were now nearer. But its
occupant, after a glance in their direction, rowed farther away and
seemed to be making preparations to cast his line.
Sarita now came from where she had been leaning over to look at the
depths and asked what Tom thought of Dalton's boat and its engine.
"They're all right. That engine is almost new. Keep her oiled and you
can go to Europe with her."
"We'll go to Europe in a larger boat, I think," laughed Leslie.
"Honestly, though, could we put out to sea in this boat?"
"It would be less rough out farther than here about the coast and these
rocks, except inside the bay, of course. But I wouldn't advise you to
get out there in stormy weather. You are going to keep your launch
inside the bay, aren't you?"
"Yes, just as soon as we get the place fixed for it. Dal wants you to
see the place, don't you Dal?"
"Yes. I can't imagine the boat's getting beaten on the rocks badly
there, even in a gale; but I want you to look at the cove and see what
you think."
Leslie thought that gales seemed almost impossible on a day like that.
The sky was serene, with gently floating masses of white clouds against
the blue. The sea was almost calm, except where a line of breakers came
in close to the shore. In the bay there were only ripples, with the salt
water gently bathing the rocks of the cliffs and washing them with a
light spray. "Cathedral Rocks" towered at the northern end of the bay
and their own smaller cliff made a low headland at its southern side.
As they carefully approached the lower end, they could see Elizabeth up
on the rocks with her big umbrella and her easel. She was too deeply
engaged to see them at first, but when she heard their hail, she came to
look over and wave joyfully.
CHAPTER V
PEGGY SAYS "THANK YOU"
This was only the beginning of trips. Leslie, Sarita, Dalton, and very
often Elizabeth, went about bay and sea in the new launch, which Leslie
named at once the "Sea Crest Yacht," only a variation of their own name,
she said. Sarita thought it delightful that their name was so
appropriate to these circumstances and declared that their prospective
cabin ought to be called Sea Crest instead of the Eyrie. But Leslie
reminded her that their father had suggested an "Eyrie."
"We'll have an 'eagles' nest' on the rocks, perhaps, unless it does seem
very much better to build in the woods," said Dalton bareheaded, keeping
the wheel steady as the little yacht cut the waves.
"Perhaps Dalton would prefer some other name for his boat, Leslie,"
suggested Elizabeth, by way of reminding her sister not to be too
possessive.
"He told me that I might name it," Leslie replied, "didn't you, Dal?"
Dalton nodded. "It's the Secrest yacht," said he. "I like Leslie's idea.
I'm teaching her to be at the wheel, Beth, and all about the engine,
too. I hope that you have no objections."
"It will probably be too late if I have, but do use judgment, children!"
"We will, dear old emergency brake!"
"Poor old Beth! She didn't want to be so grown up and careful, but had
to be!" As she spoke, Leslie put her arm around Elizabeth, who was
standing beside her.
"I'm letting you all share the responsibility now," laughed Elizabeth.
"I hope that I'll not regret it!"
"If we get reckless, Beth, we've learned that we have to take the
consequences," Sarita inserted.
"Yes, but we don't _like_ consequences, Sarita."
"Hear, hear!" came from Dalton, "but Les can run the launch if she keeps
away from the rocks. Luckily the entrance to the bay is broad enough,
and the bay itself is remarkably free from rocks that we can't see. Tom
has given me full instructions, and he even drew a little chart for me."
In two weeks time the "yacht" and a newly painted rowboat were safely
tied or anchored within the little cove below the Eyrie, as they had
decided to call their rocks, whether a cabin or lookout were ever built
there or not. It was Dalton who suggested a "lookout," a small shelter
among the rocks, where Elizabeth could paint, and from which all of them
could watch the changing sea, or be protected from a storm. As Dalton
told Leslie and Sarita, perhaps it was a good thing that they were
hindered in their first plans and work. "We'll have a much better idea
of what we want to do, for being around the place a while."
Although Dalton occasionally felt uneasy about matters, his materials
had not arrived for the cabin, and the man whom he had expected to help
him was delayed with other work. They heard nothing from the young
lawyer at home about an abstract of title. Indeed, he had not replied to
their letter at all, which seemed strange, considering his previous
devotion to Elizabeth.
Mr. Ives had not appeared again, nor had they seen anything of Peggy.
She, very likely, was more hurt with her fall than she had been willing
to admit. Dalton wrote another letter to the lawyer and after learning
that one of Bill's sons had charge of the little village post office, he
hired a horse and rode himself to the town at the railroad station, to
see it safely on its way. Just why he should be so suspicious of Mr.
Ives, he did not quite know, but it was instinctive.
Fishing trips in the rowboat were successful. They were managing to have
good meals at slight expense. It was the other part of their undertaking
that took the money, Dalton's boat and the prospective building. But
they had no regrets. There would be enough to do it and Dalton told Beth
that with her attaining fame from some picture of Steeple Rocks, and his
learning to fish and handle a boat, they would be "fixed for life." It
was a great adventure and the lure of Pirates' Cove brought much
speculation to Leslie and Sarita.
"What would it be called Pirates' Cove for," asked Leslie, "if no
pirates ever went there? It isn't any worse with rocks than lots of
other places around here where we go, and I think that the story of a
whirlpool or current is all nonsense!"
"That's all right, Les," said Dalton, who was standing by her on the Sea
Crest at the time when she made this remark. "Watch your wheel, Sis.
There. Turn it that way just a little now. Good girl. But all the same,
you keep out of Pirates' Cove, Leslie. So far as the name is concerned,
there are plenty of Pirates' Coves on this coast. I've no doubt. It's a
good name for any rather mysterious place."
"Yes, it is," said Sarita, who was waiting her turn at the wheel, "but
that is it. When we _have_ a Pirates' Cove right at our door, so to
speak, why not get some good of it?"
Dalton laughed at this and said that they would row around into the
Ives' territory "one of these days. We can see all the rocks closer
there."
"Not I," firmly said Leslie, not knowing that she would be the first one
to go. "It might remind Mr. Ives of our existence, if he should see us.
Let's let well enough alone, folks. When we hear that we have an
abstract of title and everything, you can go over to Steeple Rocks, Dal,
and tell him so."
"I'll begin to cut down a few trees, then," said Dalton, with a grin.
"That will bring _him_ over fast enough."
But their freedom from Mr. Ives was due to another cause, as they found
out at once; for when they came back from this trip, they found Peggy
Ives at the camp, in animated conversation with Beth. Beth was showing
Peggy their camp and she was admiring the convenience of their "bungalow
tent," when Leslie and Sarita appeared in the door.
"Oh, here is our circus lady," cried Sarita before she thought. She and
Leslie had so dubbed Peggy, but they had not intended to announce it.
Peggy's eyes smiled at Sarita, however, as she turned from an
examination of the ruffled dressing table. "Is _that_ what you call me!
I _was_ quite a performer, wasn't I? I just came over to tell you how
much obliged I am that your brother made me jump before I got to that
awful place further on. I came to say 'thank you' to him, and then I
want you all to come over to Steeple Rocks to have dinner with us."
"Thank you, Miss Peggy," Elizabeth said at once. "I scarcely think that
we can do that. You see, we have chiefly camping clothes, and we are not
ready for dinner at a home like yours."
"Oh, we don't always dress for dinner. Mother lets me come in to the
table in my sport things. She wants to see you. Father had to go away on
business the very next day after I fell, and we haven't seen a thing of
him since. I would have been over before, but I did give my ankle a
terrible wrench and then I was sick a little, too. Mother said it was
'shock,' but my nerves are all right!"
"I'd think that the scare you had would do something to them," Sarita
remarked.
"It is ever so good of you to ask us over," Leslie added, glad that
Elizabeth had started the "regrets," "but Beth is right about our
clothes, Peggy. _You'd_ better visit _us_ here. We'll have a beach party
and chowder. Wouldn't that be fun?"
"Yes, it would. I'd like to; but still, we want to have you come to
Steeple Rocks, too. Where are the clothes you traveled in? You will like
my mother. She is nicer than my father, and I am _very sure_ that she
will be disappointed if you can not come. She told me to bring you
to-day if you would, and if you had something else that you were doing
to-day, you could come to-morrow. Then she didn't know whether you had a
car, or horses, or anything, if you thought it too far to walk. It's
terribly rough for a car, of course."
They were outside, now, sitting upon the various seats that Dalton had
provided, from stones, or logs found in the woods.
"No, we haven't any car or any horses, but it is not too far for us to
walk," gently said Elizabeth. "I still think, though, that, as Leslie
says, it would be better for you to visit us here. Stay to supper with
us. Dal is fishing now. Sometimes he gets a big fellow that we can
scarcely eat up."
"I wouldn't dare stay this time, thank you. Mother would think that I'd
had another accident. Besides, the boy that you saw the other day is
with me. He stopped back in the woods on the way over from the road. I'd
_love_ to stay, though." Peggy looked as if she were almost ready to
yield, in spite of better judgment.
"We'll hurry up the meal," Leslie suggested. "There comes Dal now. Go
and ask your friend to come too. It doesn't take any time to cook fish
on our portable stove, and it will be such fun to have you."
"I'd love to see how you do it! Well, I'll go and call Jack and see what
he says."
Dalton reached the tent just as the "circus lady" was disappearing into
the woods. "'How now, Malvolio?'" he inquired facetiously. "More
communications from the Ives?"
"Peggy came to say 'thank you,' Dal," Beth replied. "She is a dear
little girl,--though for that matter, I imagine that she is only a year
or so younger than Leslie and Sarita."
"She just told me that she is fourteen," said Leslie, who had walked a
little distance with Peggy. "She did it in such a funny way, saying that
perhaps we thought her too young to 'play with us,' but she _would_ like
to know us. Imagine, Dal." Leslie looked at her brother with a funny
smile that Elizabeth, naturally did not understand.
"Why is that strange?" she asked. "I know that Dal does not like Mr.
Ives, from something he said; but why shouldn't he like Peggy?"
"There isn't any reason at all," Dalton answered. "She did give me a
lame shoulder and a few bruises and scratches on our first acquaintance,
to be sure, but that was nothing."
"This sounds as if your meeting Peggy were in a fight. Dal," Sarita
said, "but hurry up with that fish. Leslie and I will help you clean it,
while Beth gets the things ready to cook it."
Thus it happened that neither Leslie nor Sarita could offer a fishy hand
to Jack Morgan, who came hurrying into camp with Peggy, his blue eyes
smiling and his frank face interested, as they could clearly see. He
acknowledged the introductions with the manner of a boy used to meeting
people, and laughed when Leslie and Sarita displayed their hands,
cleaning fish with Dalton over some paper which could be gathered up and
burned later.
"I hated to be hurried away that day when Peggy scared the Ives family
nearly to death, but her father and I did not know but she might be
seriously hurt after all; and after being shaken up by the ride home,
she was glad enough to be taken care of in a hurry, weren't you, Peggy?"
"M'm-h'm," nodded Peggy, watching operations with the fish. "If Dad
hadn't been so cross over nothing, I wouldn't have minded so much."
"He was worried, Peggy," said Jack. Leslie thought it good of him to
make excuses for his handsome but irritable host.
At once they all liked Jack Morgan. He turned out to be a cousin of
Peggy's, whom Mrs. Ives had invited for the summer at Steeple Rocks.
Peggy privately informed Leslie that Jack was worth a dozen of their
other guests, most of them friends of her father's, she said. But almost
everyone was grown up, she said, and Peggy had no chums of her own.
Sarita and Leslie forthwith invited her to make chums of them, and they
were not a little touched at the eagerness with which Peggy accepted the
offer.
The little hurriedly-prepared supper broke any remaining ice. When Jack
finally rode off with Peggy, both insisted that there must be a beach
party at Steeple Rocks very soon, to which all the camping party would
come. Beth thought that it would be very pleasant and accepted for the
family, which was just as well; but she did not notice that while the
rest commented on the kindness of the invitation, none of them committed
themselves about coming.
"We did that very well, Dal," Sarita remarked afterwards. "They know
that we'd love to come, but if Mr. Ives appears and says anything, they
may remember that Beth was the only one who said anything definite about
accepting, and even she said 'if we can.' I am pretty sure that they are
all regular summer folks with money and clothes and style."
"It does not sound very well to hear Peggy criticise her father," Dalton
suggested, to the girls' surprise. They had seen Peggy go up purposely
but shyly to Dalton after supper, to say her "thank you," they supposed,
and they had noticed Dalton's friendly response.
"I thought of it, too," said Leslie, "and I am sure that Beth did; but
at that, Peggy Ives may have reason to dread her father, even though she
should not speak so before strangers. I don't trust him."
Yet it was Leslie, on the very next day, when she was at the beach,
alone, who accepted an invitation to enter the Ives' launch. She was the
first one of the Secrest party to land at Steeple Rocks.
CHAPTER VI
A "CLOSE-UP" VIEW
Dalton had gone to the town on the railroad, where he had arranged to
have his mail sent for a while, writing to the lawyer again and telling
him to direct important letters to the general delivery there for the
present. Sarita had a headache and was lying down for the afternoon,
looked in upon occasionally by Elizabeth, who was at her usual
occupation of sketching or painting. Beth ascribed Sarita's headache to
some cheap candy which the girls had bought at the village and was
hoping that a little soreness about Sarita's throat would not amount to
anything.
Leslie, who had been in the ocean earlier in the day with Elizabeth, was
a bit of bright color on the beach in a red frock and sweater to match.
She was easily seen from the launch, where figures waved at her and
pointed toward the dock, a small one at the end of the town nearest the
Secrest headland, as Peggy had begun to call it.
They were beckoning her to come, Leslie saw; and making a pile of her
shells, for gathering them was her latest occupation, she ran toward the
little dock. There, before she arrived the pretty launch was bobbing up
and down inside the breakwater.
"Come on for a cruise, Leslie!" called Peggy. "It's grand this
afternoon. We'll bring you back in time for anything."
Jack was out on the rough boards to help Leslie inside of the launch. It
was really not necessary to accept or refuse, only to climb in.
A large, dark woman looked critically at Leslie and Leslie found no
sympathy in her eyes when, after she was seated, she met her glance.
"Madame Kravetz, this is Leslie Secrest. Madame teaches me, Leslie.
Where is Sarita?"
"She has a headache and Beth is hoping that it doesn't mean tonsilitis.
Sarita wore a thin dress and forgot her sweater when we went out last
night, but Beth is dosing her and perhaps it will not amount to
anything." Leslie was wondering a little about Peggy's governess. She
did not look French, and her name was certainly not French. She might be
one of those Swiss who are part French and part German. Leslie did not
like her expression.
Jack was running the launch. Out to sea they started; then, after a
time, they made for the bay, which was better for launches than the sea,
which was growing rough. For a while they cruised around among the
fishing boats and a few pretty sail-boats until Peggy directed Jack to
head for Steeple Rocks.
"Take Leslie through the channel, Jack, and show her our little harbor
in our own bay."
Madam Kravetz started to say something, but closed her thin lips rather
tightly instead. Leslie thought that she had been about to make an
objection, but she was having too good a time to think much about their
chaperon.
The channel was interesting. Jack was careful between rocks at the
entrance, but the distance widened as they proceeded. At their right a
narrow islet with high rocks kept the force of the ocean from the
channel and other rocks made a breakwater for the Ives' harbor, "Ives
Bay."
"People are often afraid when we take them through the channel for the
first time," said Peggy, "especially if they have heard the stories
about Pirates' Cove. But we tell them that the channel is deep and safe
even for a boat of fair size, if they veer away a little from the rocks
on the Cove side."
Peggy nodded toward the rocks at their left over which tossing waters
left their spray. "Dad showed Jack where to go and where not to go," she
added. "I just _love_ Steeple Rocks, Leslie, and I wish that you would
come here a lot."
Leslie saw that Madame Kravetz looked annoyed. She almost turned her
back upon the girls and looked out over the boat's edge with a frown.
"These are Beth's 'Cathedral Rocks,'" Leslie replied to Peggy. "She
loves them, more than any of us. Beth is an artist, you know. But we all
love to look at them and I like any rock on the coast. They beat sand
for beauty any day, though I will say that for bathing, you may give me
a sandy beach."
Little waves lapped the shore near the dock where Jack skilfully brought
their boat. Leslie felt thrilled, as she confided to Sarita later, to
see a pretty sailboat tied there, together with other boats of various
sorts. Dear me, they could have everything they wanted, she supposed.
In response to Leslie's exclamation over the number of boats, Peggy said
that her father had a large yacht, too, that had to be docked in the
other bay. "We wondered if that larger dock were not yours," said
Leslie. "I think that you are a very lucky girl, Peggy, to have so much
fun."
"But after all, Leslie, it's _people_ that make fun and good times, not
_things_, or even places, though I like to cruise." Peggy frowned and
looked thoughtful, while Leslie wondered again. But now Jack was
offering to help the ladies out of the boat "What are you going to do
now?" asked Madame Kravetz.
"Oh, I want to show Leslie all over Steeple Rocks. Jack and I have been
intending to explore them more ourselves, but we haven't had time, with
all the company we have had."
"No,--and you haven't time now," coldly said Peggy's governess. "Your
mother will expect to meet your friend, since you have brought her here;
and then it will be necessary to see her home before long, if her sister
does not worry about what has become of her."
"Oh, you always think up such horrid things, Madame K," rather pettishly
Peggy said. "All right, though, for I want Mother to see Leslie."
It was quite a climb to reach the top of the headland and then, indeed,
they were only at the beginning of the higher mass known as Steeple
Rocks. But good steps had been made, with a strong railing, that made
the ascent easy to the young people. Madame Kravetz, also, climbed
easily.
When they reached the top of the steps, they walked from the upper
platform to a rocky expanse which was evidently the rear of the Steeple
Rocks garden, for presently they came among little trees, planted with
decorative intent, and Leslie found herself within a formal garden.
Flowers were blossoming and Leslie would have liked to linger, had not
Peggy hurried her on to show her the house, an immense affair, of how
many rooms Leslie could only guess. There were gables and ells and
corners and masses of stone. There were chimneys and bay windows and
balconies. From the rear they went around to the front, past a
porte-cochere, where a big car was standing.
The entrance was particularly beautiful, Leslie thought, with wide steps
and pillars. Great flags of stone made the porch floor. Light wicker
chairs stood about and a long wicker couch was piled with pretty
cushions in gay colors. "And they don't want _us_ to have even a log
cabin!" Leslie thought, in a moment of resentment.
But no one could be resentful with Peggy, who was the most hospitable
creature imaginable. Jack, too, felt the responsibility of making Leslie
have a good time. Peggy took Leslie to her own pretty room first, where
both girls made themselves a little more presentable. Leslie was glad
that her dress and sweater were respectable, since she was to meet Mrs.
Ives. Gathering shells on the beach had not improved the appearance of
her hands, which were now washed with Peggy's pet soap, fragrant and
soothing. Then they joined Jack on the porch again, to find him at a
little table behind tall glasses of delicious lemonade and a dish of
cakes. This was almost better than camping! But never mind. The
Secrests, too, would have a house one of these days!
Through the trees they could see a tennis court where active figures
were playing and other people were about. White, red, blue, orange, all
sorts of colors, had a share in the sport costumes. "It's doubles," said
Peggy. "There, it's over. Now they will be coming in, I think."
In a few minutes small groups, perhaps a dozen people in all, sauntered
toward the house, Mrs. Ives hurrying on before the rest. "That's Mother
in the white," said Peggy, going to the steps to stop her.
"Oh, Mother, stop a minute, won't you? Leslie's here."
Mrs. Ives halted and turned toward Leslie and Jack. "Yes, Peggy, if Jack
will order some lemonade and cakes for us all. That is what I was
hurrying for. So this is Leslie?" She cordially extended a hand to
Leslie, who rose and stepped forward to greet her, rather surprised to
find her so young, in appearance, at least, with her bobbed hair and
youthful dress. Referring to their kindness to Peggy, Mrs. Ives renewed
her invitation.
But Leslie saw that her hostess was not speaking very seriously. "Thank
you, Mrs. Ives," she said. "We were glad to be invited, but there have
been things to hinder us (indeed there had), and then, we are scarcely
prepared to mingle with your guests. We came to camp, you know."
"That will make no difference," cordially said Mrs. Ives, "but perhaps
you will best enjoy the beach party that Peggy is planning. Peggy, you
arrange it and have what you want. Excuse me, Miss Leslie, I must go
on."
Although Leslie felt that Mrs. Ives pleasant cordiality was not assumed,
she saw that her mind was wandering toward her older guests during the
time of their brief conversation. One of the ladies was waiting for her
and both went into the large room which Leslie had noticed as she passed
in the hall. Sounds of music presently reached them.
"Now that's over," coolly Peggy remarked, "and we've gotten rid of
Madame. Jack, I want to take Leslie to my room and talk with her a
little bit. Will you be ready to take her back in the launch when we
come down?"
"I surely will, but you'd better make it snappy if you don't want to
have Miss Beth worrying over what has become of her wandering sister."
Leslie looked at her watch. There was time for a little visit only. She
followed Peggy back into the attractive room with its comfortable,
summer fittings.
So near the sea, the house was suitably screened from the strong winds
by the pile of headland rocks with their two towers. Peggy, however,
considered this a decided drawback, since there was no good view of the
sea from any of the windows. "But Dad said that I would be glad
sometimes not to be blown away or think that I was going to sail off
with the house! He wanted it close up against the rocks, and you can see
for yourself that part of the house fairly joins them. Dad has his
office there and his own little library. He's a shivery sort of man,
anyhow, used to Florida in the winters, you know."
"How would I know, sweet Peggy?"
"Probably you wouldn't," laughed Peggy. "That is what my own father used
to call me, 'sweet Peggy,' after the old song."
"Oh, then, Mr. Ives is really not your father," said the surprised
Leslie. But that accounted for some of Peggy's rather disrespectful
speeches.
"No, and I ought to be ashamed of myself for not liking him better. I
can have anything I want and he doesn't care. O Leslie, I wish that you
would let me talk to you about things sometimes! You are all so happy,
and we aren't, very, here. I don't know just what is the matter,
either!"
"Why, of course you may talk to me, Peggy! It seems to me that you might
be happy enough, a nice, pretty girl with everything to make you happy.
Why, child, we've had real trouble,--well, I suppose that you have been
through that, too, losing your father."
"Yes, though I was pretty small, then. Haven't you very much to live on,
either?"
Peggy was quite frank in her question, but Leslie, to whom having money
or not having it was only an agreeable or disagreeable incident, did not
mind. "Not so very much, Peggy," she answered, "but enough to get along
and more than some people. Then we are always expecting to do and be
something wonderful, you see!" Leslie was laughing a little, but Peggy
understood.
"Perhaps that's it," Peggy said. "Nobody here wants to do anything but
have a good time. If I had been allowed to have one of my girl friends
here this summer, I suppose I would have been satisfied. But when Mother
invited Jack, even, Dad made a terrible to-do about it and almost said
that he should not come; but he had already been invited. Dad said that
he did not want any 'curious boys' around. Leslie, there is something
funny going on and I wish I could find out what it is. I'm pretty sure
that Mother doesn't know either, and she worries. She has been worried
ever since that old foreigner came to be a sort of secretary or
something to Dad. He manages his business, Dad says sometimes. He's a
Count. Madame Kravetz belongs to the nobility, too."
"From what country?" asked Leslie, interested.
"Russia, I think, though she claims to be French. Old Count Herschfeld
is supposed to be Austrian. You'll see him sometime. He has fishy eyes
and is very straight and tall and pale, and has a slit for a mouth, and
walks like a soldier. Probably he was some sort of a general in the
war."
"If I were you, Peggy, I wouldn't worry over anything that you can't
help. You will be able to enjoy this wonderful place. It must be great
to be in Florida for the winters, too."
"I suppose it is. I never thought about it. Mother married Dad when I
was about six years old. He was nicer then than he is now. We travel so
much that I have a teacher with me all the time. But I heard Mother
talking to Dad about _not_ putting me in school, so I suppose that
boarding school will be the next thing for me."
"Do you like your governess?"
"I do _not_. To myself I call her 'Crabby.' Kravetz, Kravy, Crabby, you
see. Sometime I will forget before company!"
"Better not," smiled Leslie. "But if they let you, suppose you stay
around with us a good deal this summer. You and Sarita and I will be a
sort of--'triumvirate,' you know. Dal will be terribly busy pretty soon,
building our log cabin, and we'll have to run our launch half the time
without him, and fish in the small boat, too. He is taking most of his
fun now, he says, though, of course, he will like to build the house,
too. He is crazy about the woods and about making things and having a
house of our own. We sold our house when Elizabeth got a place to teach
in a bigger town only a few miles away."
"I wish Elizabeth taught me," said Peggy. "I could learn more if I liked
the teacher and was sure that what she said was true."
Leslie was quite impressed by that statement. She had not liked the face
of the governess either.
"I'm going to be real good and see if they will not let me off from
lessons, though Mother said that Madame Kravy needed the money and the
place. But she could stay just the same. Dad said the other day that he
needed some one 'to help him in his office.'"
Leslie wondered what his business could be that he carried it on in this
remote spot. But he might be some big executive who had to keep in touch
with affairs and write "letters and things."
Busily they talked. Peggy thanked Leslie for asking her to be a member
of a "triumvirate" and said that if Sarita did not mind she surely would
belong. "Jack is sort of lost, too, without anybody of his own age.
Perhaps Dalton would not mind if he hung around when he was building."
"Well, Peggy, I think that I ought to tell you something, if you promise
not to say a word to Elizabeth about it. You see Beth was all used up
when school was out, and if she can only have a little while to be happy
and get strong again, why then it won't make so much difference what
happens, and I suppose that she will have to know about this. Now it
_might_ interfere with the 'triumvirate.'"
"Tell, me. I'll not say a word. I can't imagine what it is."
"I'm sure you never could. You see, Peggy, your father may not _want_
you to come to see us, or have us out here, or anything. Was he there
when your mother sent word for us to come?"
"No."
"I thought so." Then Leslie gave the details of their first meeting with
Mr. Ives, summing up the case quite clearly. "So, you see, if Mr. Ives
wants to get us off the land, and we stand up for what we think are our
rights, it may not be so very pleasant all around. We'd always like you,
Peggy, but it might be embarrassing for you to have much to do with us."
"It would be a great deal more pleasant than not to have anything to do
with you. Little Peggy will try diplomacy. I'll find out what Dad is up
to; but if I don't, and the position in the triumvirate is still open,
I'll fill it, you can be sure."
"Well, then, Peggy, don't do anything you oughtn't for our sakes."
"How about little Peggy's sake, Leslie?"
"Same thing. But if your mother lets you, you will certainly be welcome
_on_ the Sea Crest and in the Eyrie pretty soon."
"When shall we have the first meeting of the 'triumvirate'?"
"Say to-morrow."
"To-morrow it is."
The faintly ticking little wrist watches announced to the girls who
glanced at them that they must bring the visit to a close. They ran
downstairs and Leslie strolled out, while Peggy hunted up her cousin. In
a few minutes the three were going down the steps to the Ives' launch,
which carried them past the foaming rocks and into the bay toward
Leslie's homing spot, the little rude dock at the base of the Secrest
headland. Pirates' Cove looked just as interesting and deadly as ever,
as they passed it. The Sea Crest bobbed up and down gently in
recognition of the other boat, and Jack gallantly handed Leslie to a
safe foothold and saw her up the more difficult steps, before he took
the wheel from Peggy and waved a goodbye. The little launch chugged
away. Leslie stopped at the top to lean upon a rock and watch the boat
and her new friends. What a queer household there was at Steeple Rocks.
Mr. Ives was not Peggy's father. She was glad of that. She was sure that
others there beside Madame Kravetz were foreign. The lady who waited for
Mrs. Ives and joined her had spoken to her in French, probably because
Mrs. Ives knew French; for she heard the guest "jabber" something else
to another lady that followed them.
There was something queer going on, Peggy had said. Of course. It was
that, perhaps, that made Mr. Ives try to send them all away. Leslie's
thoughts were busy with impressions received at Steeple Rocks.
CHAPTER VII
RIGHTS ASSURED
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--
CHAPTER VIII
THE EYRIE
True to the arrangement, Dalton's man arrived the next morning with two
trucks instead of one and another man to assist. They were real New
Englanders, with speech quaint to these young people. The head man told
the girls that the shack would be up by night. They thought that he was
joking, but if it had not been for a few hindrances it might have been
accomplished. It was necessary, however, to fasten it very securely to
the rocks, for lack of much foundation, though Sarita declared that it
fulfilled every requirement of a house founded upon the rock.
It was surprising how much two men with Dalton's trained assistance
could accomplish in one day, and they left for home well satisfied with
what had been done. As some more lumber was needed the men drove the
trucks back to town, but they promised to come early and expected to
stay the next night and, indeed, until the Eyrie was completed.
Neither Jack nor Peggy put in an appearance, but the girls scarcely
thought about it, in the excitement of the growing building. Leslie had
told Sarita and Dalton about her having seen the launch move toward
Steeple Rocks, and both girls related what had happened before to
Dalton. He said little, but seemed to agree with them in regard to the
possibilities.
That night it was the girls who retired before Dalton. He was fussing
around, as Leslie expressed it, seeing that tools were under cover and
everything about their materials in order, when they left him and went
into their tent.
Remembering what warnings had been given him, Dalton felt a little
uneasy, now that they were actually launched in building, though in so
small a way. He hoped that no one had discovered the undertaking so far.
Finally he went to bed and slept till some time past midnight when he
woke with an uneasy feeling. The surf was booming beyond the camp and
the rocks. He heard an owl hooting in the woods. Then he thought he
heard sounds as if someone or something was moving through the thickets
or brushing by the bushes along the path. It would be hard to make one's
way through this grove without some noise.
Again he heard the cracking of a stick. Reaching for his gun, Dalton
sprang out of his cot and peered through the flap of his tent. A dark
figure was stealthily entering the camp, making its way toward the pile
of lumber. It was carrying something. This was placed against the lumber
and a match was lit.
Dalton waited no longer. He stepped out from his tent, directed his gun
toward the stars, away from the tents, and fired. Crack! The shot
reverberated among the rocks and the intruder lost no time in getting
out of range and sight. Dalton smiled grimly as he ran in apparent
pursuit, but really to see that the dropped match had gone out. He
darted behind the lumber, then, not knowing but the shot might be
returned. The sounds of someone crashing through the woods came to him
and he came to the conclusion that he had successfully frightened away
his enemy. Most likely he would not want to be identified, Dalton
thought. There was not much danger that there would be any battle now.
"Oh, Dal! What is the matter? What--are you hurt?"
Here was Leslie, coming from the door of his tent, where she had
evidently gone first to find him.
"Here, Sis,--get back to bed _instanter!_ No, nobody is shot. I'm sorry
that I had to wake you all up, but somebody was trying to set fire to
our lumber and I had to scare him away. Did you hear him smashing
through the woods?"
"Yes, and I thought that he had shot you. I was glad to see your cot
empty, then I was afraid that you were shot out in the woods!"
"Go back and tell the girls what happened. We'll not be bothered again
to-night; besides, I'll stay awake till daylight. You sleep on and wake
me up when the men come, if I oversleep."
"All right. I don't think that Beth even woke up. Her nerves certainly
have gotten cured. Sarita is awake, though. I told her I'd find out.
Want my flashlight, Dal?"
"No, thank you, Les. I have my own if I need it."
"Well, don't stay where you might get hurt, then."
"No. I'm going back to the tent again, but I'll have to sneak around a
little from time to time. Don't worry if you hear me."
Fortunately for Dalton, Leslie wakened early and roused her brother when
the workmen arrived. Such progress was made that in a few days the
entire Eyrie was complete, "lookout," stone wall and all. There was
plenty of material for the wall. Boulders near at hand were pried and
rolled into position and smaller stones were lifted to place above, all
secured by mortar, like a brick wall. The roof, with the little window
that looked toward the sea and above the rocks, took some little time,
for it must be made weather-proof. But so small a shelter was soon
finished. Elizabeth promised herself much fun in their finishing the
inside to their liking. It was to be their watch tower as well as "The
Artist's Retreat," Leslie declared.
"I'll give you a day or two more of my valuable time," said Dalton, "to
put up shelves and make the step that we need at the door, then I'm
going to begin on the trees. The men have another job and that is why
they were willing to work overtime every day and finish this. If I
decide to stay here all winter by myself, I'll have this plastered. But
this boarding up will do this summer.
"The other man that I engaged for the log house can come pretty soon. My
plans are fine unless something interferes. I think that I will report
to Mr. Ives the matter of the man who tried to set fire to our lumber. I
can't think that he would want that to happen. A fire here would spread
to his own woods. Trust a man to look after his own interests, even if
he is willing that something should happen to us. I don't think that he
was concerned in it. It is hard to understand, unless Bill or someone
works on his own in smuggling."
"You are sure that it is smuggling, Dal?"
"What else could it be?"
Then at last came Peggy and Jack, the very day after the Eyrie was
completed, coming in the Ives' launch and docking where they had left
Leslie. Up by the rocky steps they climbed, not seeing Sarita and
Leslie, who were peering at them over the rocks.
"Welcome to our Eyrie!" cried Leslie as they reached the top.
"Oh, hello, girls," Peggy returned. "You almost scared me. I didn't know
that you were so close. We just had to come as soon as we could to see
what you have been doing. Have you built your Eyrie, then, or started
it?"
"Just come on a little way and then turn around to your right. Couldn't
you see the little lookout window from the bay?"
"Didn't notice it. Oh, how cute! And you are making the step of stones,
too, with concrete."
Peggy ran around to where Dalton was on his knees, pointing up the step
in front of the Eyrie door. He was so absorbed in his work that he did
not look up for a moment. Then he lifted his face and saw Peggy.
"Yes; this is home-made concrete. Let's hope that it will last. Where
have you been, Peggy? Leslie told us that we might expect you over some
time ago. You have missed all the excitement of our first
home-building."
"I know it. It's been so stupid, except for our playing tennis and
cruising around a little. Jack is perishing for someone old enough for
him to have real fun with. The rest of our guests are too old and I
guess that they are all leaving anyhow. We couldn't come, you know.
Well, yes, we _could_, but Dad was home, and I didn't want to risk
having an order not to come over at all. So I told Jack that we'd just
wait and say nothing till Dad left. Mother said that he was going away
again, and we made no remarks at all.
"But now Dad is gone and we can have that beach party. Leslie told you,
I suppose, that she told me about Dad's claiming to own your land."
Dalton was rather surprised at the way in which Peggy put it, but he
answered her seriously. "Yes, Leslie told us about the visit she had
with you. I hope that we shall not have any trouble with Mr. Ives. We
have had word that we have an abstract of title, so we shall not leave,
of course. But I scarcely think that it would be the thing for us to go
to Steeple Rocks when he might not want us there. It is very kind for
your mother to invite us, but you must remember that she does not know
anything about it all. Can't you continue to come here instead? You
girls can have all kinds of fun together."
"But we like you, too. Didn't you rescue, me from a--stony grave? I want
_you_ to see Steeple Rocks."
"And I confess that there is no place I should rather see." Dalton was
on his feet now, replacing the boards by which they could enter the
Eyrie door without setting foot upon the wide step, just completed.
Jack, Sarita and Leslie came up now, for an introduction between Jack
and Dalton, and to peep within the one large room of the Eyrie. It was
still quite primitive, with a sliding bar on the inside of the door to
make it secure at night, and a hasp, staple and padlock on the outside,
but the boards had been neatly fitted together, perpendicularly, and the
rafters were not unpleasant to the eye. Already the girls had decorated
them with spruce, and a bouquet of wild flowers stood upon the long
shelf which Dalton had put up.
"We can't have any fireplace here," said Leslie, "but we shall in our
bigger house."
"Who knows?" Dalton inquired. "We may enlarge this place sometime and
make what Father expected it to be."
"Sure enough, who knows?" quoted Peggy. "I believe that Dalton will do
anything he wants to do!"
Dalton gave Peggy a big brotherly smile. "Thanks," he said. "I'm going
to try, but things do not always turn out as you expect, Peggy."
"I should say they don't!"
CHAPTER IX
THE FIRST TREE FALLS
"Dal, are you sure that we ought to do this?"
Elizabeth Secrest eyed her brother seriously.
"Yes, Beth. I know that you are thinking about the money, and I don't
blame you. You have had a hard enough time to earn our income, and if I
slash around and spend all our principal, you'll be thinking 'What's the
use?' But Beth, there is a method in my madness, and if we get a livable
house up, next summer you can bring some of the girls, charge them a
reasonable price for room, and board, too, or let them cook for
themselves. Then I ought to make a little money out of the launch.
There's a little colony only a few miles away, if we don't get enough
people here to pay."
"It is a pity to spoil our woods with people," said Beth.
"But we'll make the camp ourselves," urged Dalton, "and have only nice
folks. How would a girls' camp strike you, and I might have a few boys
somewhere?"
"No, thanks. I get enough of that in school time."
"Poor Beth! But suppose we manage it so you do not have to teach during
the year. If I got some one to play chaperon and run the affairs, would
you be hostess and perhaps teach a class of girls in sketching or
something in your line?"
"Dal, I'd hate it. Wait till Leslie grows up a little further to try all
that. You wouldn't like it yourself."
"I'd like anything that took you out of the school room. But I have
another plan for that. All right, Beth; but just the same, we'll go
ahead now. There are possibilities here. I promise you to spend as
little as possible and to do as much of the work myself as I can."
"I don't want you to kill yourself and not to have any of the fun,
fishing and all." Beth had a sympathetic voice that always carried more
meaning than her words themselves.
"I have already had a great time with that, and I shall again, later.
But you know how I like this sort of thing. I'd like to be a big
contractor some day. The first tree comes down to-morrow morning!"
Dalton had another reason for working steadily at their camp. The
experience with the man who had tried to set fire to their lumber had
made quite an impression. Dalton had talked it over with Leslie, who
thought that it might be the Eyrie which could be especially
objectionable, since it had the view of the bay and any operations
there.
"You don't suppose, Dal, that they could think us spying?"
"They might think that we would report them if we saw anything unusual;
but if they think that we are here on purpose it will reassure them when
we build a larger and more permanent home,--unless all this comes from
Mr. Ives, and he is really determined to get us away, for some reason."
"We girls are going to try to find out."
"Don't use Peggy unless she wants to be in it, whether her father is
concerned or not."
"What do you think of me, Dal Secrest! Peggy shall know everything that
we know, if she lends herself to our investigating. She was
thunderstruck when she found out about our having an abstract of title,
and Mr. Ives' name not even mentioned."
Dalton nodded. "Peggy is an unusually nice girl, but she is considerably
younger and hasn't much judgment. Don't let her get into trouble at
home, if you can help it. As for me, I'm going to be right on the job
most of the time, and while we are putting up the log house, I'll keep a
man to sleep right here in camp. I would sleep in the Eyrie now, to
watch it, if it were not for being farther away from you girls."
"How about our sleeping there, then? With the padlock off, they will
know that someone is inside, and there will be enough air with that one
window open on the side of the ocean."
"Someone might climb up on the roof," laughed Dalton.
"Yes, but I'd like to see them climb out and into the window. There's a
sheer drop of I don't know how many feet. And one thing, I don't see how
they could set fire to the Eyrie."
Dalton did not tell Leslie of what he had been afraid, namely that Eyrie
and rocks might be blown up with dynamite. But he finally consented to
have the girls move over to the Eyrie, which suited Beth; nor did she
know how many times Dalton wakened at first and came over to see if
Eyrie and girls were safe.
But Dalton Secrest was not easily moved from any purpose that he was
convinced to be a wise one. The first tree fell by his ax at the
appointed time. All the girls, Peggy included, were on hand to watch
operations, and Jack arrived, from an errand to the village, just in
time. "There!" said Dalton, leaning on his ax, "that's done!"
The girls, warned away before the tree fell, came around to look at it.
"Doesn't it seem a pity to cut any tree down!" Leslie exclaimed.
"Yes, it does," Dalton acknowledged, "but you need not be afraid. I
appreciate this woods perhaps more than you do, Leslie. But you notice
that the trees are all growing too thickly here. I shall cut two more
out." To illustrate, Dalton gave a sharp blow with the ax to one of the
trees which he had marked.
"Have you another ax, Dalton?" Jack inquired. "What is the matter with
my taking a hand in this?"
"Only the fact that your host, Mr. Ives, does not want us to build
here," frankly Dalton replied.
"What is the matter with him?" asked Jack, not much impressed with the
news. He took the ax from Dalton's hand and applied it to the base of
the tree with some skill. Peggy jumped up and down like some little
child and clapped her hands.
Dalton rubbed his hands and stood back to rest a little. Leslie watched
Jack with some admiration. They were just beginning to get acquainted
with Jack, who was not as talkative as Peggy, but manly and capable.
Leslie had an idea that he was not from as wealthy a home as Steeple
Rocks, though he seemed to have clothes for all occasions. She was glad
that he was related to Peggy and not to Mr. Ives. It would be hard to
like anybody that really belonged to Mr. Ives, she thought, though she
was conscious that she might not be quite fair to the suave gentleman,
so unpleasant had been their relations.
"Go on, Jack; that was good," Peggy was saying. "It will be such fun to
watch a real log house go up. Didn't the pioneers always help each
other?"
"I fancy not when a man was building on land belonging to someone else!"
All of the young people were startled at this new voice which came from
behind them, as they faced the tree and Jack. They turned to see a tall,
straight man of possibly sixty years, looking coldly upon the scene.
"Count Herschfeld!" exclaimed Jack.
Peggy shrugged her shoulders. "I rather think there isn't anything of
the sort here," said she.
Dalton tossed aside the ax, which Jack had half unconsciously handed
him, and stepped forward. "And who may you be?" he asked quietly,
setting his lips firmly as he stopped speaking.
"Introduce us, Peggy," sneeringly said the older man.
Peggy threw back her head and stepped from beside Sarita toward Dalton.
"This is Count Herschfeld, Dalton. Count Herschfeld, this is my friend,
Dalton Secrest, who is building on his _own land_! Miss Elizabeth, Count
Herschfeld,--Miss Leslie and Miss Sarita--" Peggy began to be
embarrassed with the number of introductions. She was not very old, and
Elizabeth put an arm around her, as she stepped forward in great
surprise.
"Are you visiting at Steeple Rocks, Count Herschfeld?" Elizabeth
inquired, starting to put out her hand, then remembering that his first
remark had not been friendly. What could it mean? She glanced at the
faces around her. Jack, frowning, was leaning against the tree. Sarita
and Leslie had drawn together and were looking at the Count with
anything but friendly expressions. It seemed as if they were not as
surprised as she.
"You could scarcely call it visiting, Miss Secrest. I conduct Mr. Ives'
business affairs very largely."
"I see. Can we do anything for you this morning?"
"Most certainly; you can order your brother to refrain from cutting any
more of Mr. Ives' trees, and I am sorry to inform you, as Mr. Ives
informed you some time ago, that we should like to have you withdraw
from these woods."
"But they _belong_ to us, Count Herschfeld. There must be some grave
mistake on your part. My father purchased this land, which is duly
recorded and we hold deed and abstract of title in the usual way. My
father was a lawyer, sir, and it is not very likely that he would accept
a doubtful title." Beth's voice sounded very courteous and sweet, but
she was as dignified as she was in the school room.
"Good old Beth," whispered Leslie to Sarita. "She knew all about it all
the time. We could have saved ourselves all that trouble if we had told
her!"
"But you did it to save _her_ the worry. It's a joke on us, all the
same!"
What would the Count say next, Leslie thought. He could not have
expected them to be so sure of their rights.
With a sneering smile on his face, Count Herschfeld stood there, bracing
himself now with his walking stick. "I have no doubt that you think
yourselves within your rights," began he, but Dalton stepped up to him
with a card on which he had been scribbling while Beth talked.
"Here is the address of our lawyer, Count Herschfeld," said Dalton. "You
may wish to telegraph him. I want to have no trouble over this, but
neither do I propose to be hindered. I have looked up the records
purposely before beginning to build. We are not harming any one, Count
Herschfeld, and we want to be let alone. I hope that we shall not be
obliged to seek any protection from the law!" Dalton spoke strongly and
meaningly.
Count Herschfeld lifted his eyebrows at that, but the sneer on his face
remained. "I will report what you say to Mr. Ives," he replied, "also
the felling of the trees."
"Mean old thing!" Peggy cried, as the Count disappeared through the
trees. "Probably he'll tell about our being here and Jack's helping! He
couldn't have heard the chopping clear from Steeple Rocks, could he?"
"No, Peggy," said Dalton. "Beth, we'll have to tell you what happened
before. It's a good joke on us. We have spent lots of time and trouble
finding out, and here you knew all about the abstract of title and
everything."
"It was my business to know, Dal. Why didn't you tell me?" Elizabeth was
quite amazed that she had not been informed at first.
"Mr. Ives came right over, and you were so worn out that we didn't have
the heart to give you anything to worry about. That was all. Write to
Jim, Beth, and hurry up his coming!"
"I'd scarcely like to do that, Dal,"--but Elizabeth was smiling.
"Suppose we just go right on, as you have been doing, Dal. We have the
right of it. I am surprised that a man of Mr. Ives' wealth and position
should do this. Do you know, Peggy, why he thinks he owns this land?"
"I don't think that he thinks he owns it," replied Peggy, her cheeks red
with excitement. "He wants you to go away, and I don't think that he is
very smart about it, either. He might know that you would know what you
are about."
"Why should he want us to go away, Peggy?" queried the still amazed
Elizabeth. "What harm could we do here? Does he want all this woods and
country about the bay to himself?"
"Something like that," Peggy agreed. "He was fussing at Mother, for
'bringing so many guests' to the place, and he said that he came here to
get 'away from civilization.' Seems to me, though, that he makes a great
many trips back into it!"
"Perhaps he is obliged to," kindly said Beth. "What is his business,
Peggy?"
"I don't know. He doesn't drink, if that is what you are thinking. He
has wines for those foreigners, friends of his, and the 'Counts' that
are always coming, but he never takes any to amount to anything."
"Oh, Peggy, I never thought of such a thing. Please consider that
question unasked!" Beth had not given possible smuggling any thought.
"I don't care, Miss Beth. I'm worried myself about all this."
"Cheer up, Peggy," said Jack. "Your dad and these folks will let their
lawyers fix it all up, and meanwhile we'll have all the fun we want."
"Unless Dad takes a notion to keep us at home!"
"Here goes for the other tree," said Jack, picking up the ax again.
Leaving the two boys engaged in their task, the rest strolled from the
woods to the rocks, where Beth disappeared into the Eyrie, which she was
fitting up to her taste. The other girls went down to the launch, the
Sea Crest, in which they were soon speeding out upon the bay.
"Every morning," said Peggy, "Jack will bring me over, either through
the woods or in our launch. I'm going to say a little something to
Mother, so she will avoid the subject with Dad, and perhaps she will
help us to come. She sometimes does when Dad is unreasonable."
Leslie did not quite know whether she approved of this or not. Any form
of deceit was abhorrent to Leslie and she liked Peggy too much to want
her concerned in it. The situation at Steeple Rocks did not seem very
admirable, to tell the truth.
CHAPTER X
THE SECRET
No more was heard from the Count. Dalton and Jack spent a busy week,
working together and becoming very well acquainted. They were of almost
the same age with many ideas in common. Jack was intending to enter a
university in the autumn and tried to persuade Dalton to enter with him,
but Dalton told him that he was the man of the family and while it had
been a matter of course to expect a college education while his father
lived, it might not be best now. He had that matter to decide. If he
went, he would work his way almost entirely.
The girls had savory lunches for the boys, but they were often out on
interesting affairs of their own about which they said little either to
Beth, Dalton or Jack. The Sea Crest and the little row boat dubbed the
"Swallow" were in frequent use. For the most part the girls wore their
bathing suits, with raincoats or heavy coats over them, according to the
weather. They swam near the beach, they made trips to the village; they
climbed over the rocks, and under Peggy's leadership they became
acquainted with the literal ups and downs of the rocky paths around
Steeple Rocks. They talked of secrets and mysteries before the boys,
inviting their questions, but Dalton and Jack claimed that if they had
anything to tell they would tell it.
"Oh, you'll be sorry!" cried Peggy to Dalton, whom she liked very much,
it seemed, "when we find out why is Pirates' Cove or uncover a pirate
hoard, or something!"
"If you find it on our side, Miss, it belongs to us!"
"Finders keepers, Dal," laughed Peggy.
Of the girls Leslie was Peggy's favorite, but Sarita had no reason to be
jealous, since Peggy was too much younger to spoil the old close
relation between the older girls. Yet Peggy was a bit of fire and energy
and real lovableness to them both, and old enough in her ways to adapt
herself to them if they forgot to adapt their plans to Peggy. Through
Sarita, Peggy was introduced to the different gulls and other sea birds
that flapped or sailed or flew over the bay and in the woods. Leslie
knew them too and Peggy was envious, she said, until she found out that
looking through Sarita's good lenses, she, too, could distinguish the
differences and learn to identify some of them. The little sandpipers
that flew in wheeling flocks or skimmed with rapid feet over the sands
were her particular delight.
Leslie and Sarita wondered what Peggy's real name might be, if Mr. Ives
were only her step-father, but Peggy did not seem inclined to talk about
herself and they were too polite to ask. That she had been christened
Marguerite, Margaret, or some other more dignified name than Peggy they
naturally supposed, but they were puzzled a little, as doubtless
mischievous Peggy intended, when she wrote large upon the sand one day
at the beach the name Angelina.
"That, of course, is my real name, and Mother used to call me Angel
sometimes till Dad said that it wasn't very 'characteristic.'" But
Peggy's pretty lips were parted in what might easily be called an impish
grin.
"Don't tell whoppers, little girl," advised Sarita.
"Thanks. I'm glad you think that 'Angel' is appropriate."
"Your lightning deductions are something wonderful," lazily said Leslie,
who was lying on the sand in the sun. It was really a hot morning "for
once," as Peggy said, and the girls could safely take their time to
their dip. Peggy was telling them about bathing in Florida, and how she
loved it. "But I'm glad to be here with you girls now and the peppy days
that we usually have here just suit me. How about going around home
after a while, letting me have a lunch fixed up and exploring that
little cave we found. Perhaps there is a passage to that hole in
Pirates' Cove."
"Whoever heard of a hole in a Cove?" Sarita queried.
"You know what I mean, the hole in the rocks there."
Leslie jumped to her feet. "Come on, then. Let's do something. One more
dip and then for camp!"
Three heads bobbed up and down in the surf as they tossed a big ball,
one that Peggy had brought from Florida, from one to another while they
swam. By this time they had learned where it was safe for them and where
the undertow might be a little too strong. Dalton, who was a strong
swimmer, had both inquired and investigated.
A run and a climb and running again brought them into camp, where they
changed to dry garments and started on a hike through the woods toward
Steeple Rocks. By this time Leslie and Sarita had become quite familiar
with the way. They scarcely liked to appear at the great house there
just because they knew that Mr. Ives was away; yet Peggy frankly wanted
them, and her mother cordially urged them to come often. She thanked
them for making life at the coast so pleasant to Peggy.
Count Herschfeld was away, too. Peggy said that it was like a different
place with him away and openly rejoiced in the absence of "the Kravetz,"
as Jack called her, most disrespectfully. Where she had gone Peggy did
not know. The pleasant fact was enough for her she told the girls,
though not in just those words. Peggy was a great girl to "rattle on,"
Sarita said; but Leslie thought that there was always a point to Peggy's
remarks and enjoyed them.
When they arrived at Steeple Rocks, Peggy ran in to interview the
housekeeper, while Leslie and Sarita strolled about the grounds, which
by this time were in their prettiest summer garb. In part the gardens
were formal, but there were nooks cleverly wild, yet rescued from the
uncomfortable features of real wildness. They sat down on a rustic bench
near the tennis court and surveyed the arbors, the porches, the solid,
handsome house, the mass of Beth's Cathedral Rocks and their steeple
spires, towering behind and above.
"Grim and mysterious, aren't they, Sarita?"
"Yes, Leslie. I rather like the distant view best."
"We get advantage of the distance for the outlines."
"I wonder if Mr. Ives has built anything into the rock,--I mean bored or
blasted into it See how closely that wall joins the rock."
"That is where Mr. Ives' library and office are, Peggy said, and I think
that she mentioned a safe built into the rock. She said that was why he
keeps everybody away from that part of the house."
"Oh, he does, does he?"
"So Peggy said. She says it's no temptation to her to go near his 'old
office.'"
Sarita smiled. "Peggy has turned out to be the most enthusiastic member
of our 'triumvirate.' Do you like her mother?"
"I don't know what to think of Mrs. Ives. She is lovely to us and she
seems to think a great deal of Peggy, if she does turn her over to other
people. Perhaps she has to. Do you remember Mrs. Peacock? She didn't do
a thing but preen her feathers and play bridge and golf till the crash
came; then she gathered up her kiddies from various schools and went to
work to take care of them."
"Yes. It's hard to tell about the society women."
The girls rose as they saw Peggy tripping down the steps with a picnic
basket in her hand. They joined her and went toward the path which led
around into the rocks. They crossed the path by which they had entered
the grounds from their own and the Ives' woods, crossing also the rocky
way with the steps which led down to the dock where the Ives' yacht was
supposed to stay.
On a narrow ledge to their left they had need to be careful, but it led
to a small cave which they had discovered before. It was not like one
hollowed out by the action of water, but more like a space in the midst
of rocks which some giant had been piling, one upon another. There were
cracks and fissures, too, and the retreat was large enough to be
interesting.
"I've got sandwiches and doughnuts, pickles, some shrimp salad, and a
blueberry pie," Peggy announced, "and there is some lemonade in the
'icy-hot.'" She swung the basket to the rocky floor as she spoke and sat
down beside it.
"You are all hot with climbing and carrying that basket,"
sympathetically said Leslie. "You should have let me carry it part of
the way as I wanted to."
"It helped me swing around that narrow place," laughed Peggy. "Besides,
let the hostess provide the eats."
"Are you hostess?"
"Isn't this Steeple Rocks? I know that you are laughing at the lunch,
but those were the things I found and they all looked good."
"I know by experience, Peggy, that anything from your house is good,"
said Leslie. "This isn't the first time that you have treated us. Hurrah
for blueberry pie in Maine! We found a new place for blueberries, Peggy,
scrumptious ones."
Peggy had saluted when Leslie complimented the Steeple Rocks cooking.
Now she changed expression. "Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the--smoke of an
English-_mun_! Isn't that funny? Don't you smell cigar smoke, girls?"
"I believe I do a little, Peggy," Sarita replied. She was at the
opening, and taking a careful step or two she looked over the ledge, her
hand on a rocky protuberance for safety's sake. "Somebody's going down
toward the dock. Perhaps we are getting a whiff from the pipe he is
smoking."
"Please see who it is, Sarita, if you can without being seen. Mother
said that Dad might be home to-day, and if he is, I want to keep out of
sight as much as possible."
Leslie, listening, puckered her brows and Peggy saw her.
"Now Leslie, don't worry. It isn't bad of me to keep out of trouble. You
just don't understand, that's all." Peggy gave Leslie an engaging look
out of frank, affectionate eyes.
"Little flirt," laughed Leslie. "She knows, Sarita, that she only has to
look at us with 'them eyes' to have us melt. Why don't you try that on
Mr. Ives?"
"You think that I'm just pretending! I don't like you any mare, Leslie
Secrest!" But Peggy was half smiling as she spoke and Leslie did not
apologize.
Sarita was still looking out over the ledge. Then quickly she stepped
back behind the jutting rocks and plumped herself down by the other
girls. "It's Bill," she said. "He was going on down, but I couldn't get
a good look at him till he suddenly turned; and then I was afraid that
he would see me watching him,--hence my sudden retreat!"
"Could there be some other ledge along here, and someone on it?" Leslie
suggested. "This one ends here, I suppose, with that big bulge of rock."
"Suppose we fasten a sign of some sort here and then look up from below
and see just what is near us here. That does not smell like a pipe, and
I can smell it yet. Can't you?"
"Yes, Peggy, though not so much," said Leslie. "Sarita, this is more
like an Eyrie than ours, isn't it? You can see most of the bay, our
headland, the sea and a bit of the village from here. Do you suppose
that we can see this with our 'mind's eye' next winter when we are
digging into our books and have nothing better to look at than the flat
plains of home?"
"I wonder," said Sarita. Below them lay the bay, sparkling in the sun.
Its salty waves leaped up on many a half-submerged rock near the shore,
that sent back the spray. Beyond the rim of confining rocks and the
Secrest headland, the sea surged more quietly than usual, though there
was a line of breakers to be seen. The sky was a deep blue, its clouds
in heaps of billowing, floating white.
"This," said Peggy, "is the home of the 'triumvirate.'"
"'Triumvirate' is not exactly appropriate, Peggy," Sarita remarked.
"No," said Leslie. "How about the Three Bears?"
"Who's been sitting in _my_ chair?" squeaked Peggy in a high voice.
They all laughed. It did not take much to make them laugh to-day. Peggy
was rummaging in her basket and now handed out some paper napkins.
"Let's have a good name, then," she continued. "What would a triumvirate
of girls be?"
"_Femina_ is the Latin word for woman," said Leslie. "Put it in place of
_vir_ and see what you have."
"Tri-tri--" began Peggy, thinking; "trium-feminate!" she triumphantly
finished, flourishing a bottle of olives so vigorously that the cork,
previously loosened, came out and the liquid spilled.
Soon the girls were munching sandwiches and olives, drinking copiously
of the cold lemonade and talking as busily as ever of Jack, Dalton and
the prospective log house; of the queer happenings at camp and at sea;
and of their secret, the 'mystery', in regard to which they had teased
or tried to tease the boys.
"Tell me again, Peggy," said Leslie, "just what you heard said and just
where it was. I want to get it straight. It may be that we ought to tell
Dal and Beth."
"It's all right with _me_, Leslie, if you do," said Peggy. "I'm sure
that Dad has something up with the Count, and if either he or the Count
are going to do anything to you folks, I don't want it to happen. But
I'm hoping, of course, that for Mother's sake Dad isn't into anything
real wicked.
"Well, it was the night after he was supposed to have gone away that
last time. I was as wide awake as anything and I thought that I'd slip
out of the house and go down to the shore a while. The house was all
still, you know, and I guess it must have been about two o'clock. I
would have taken my bathing suit for a dip, but I promised Mother that I
would never go in all alone. So I just slipped out in my silk negligee
and slippers, though it was a little shivery.
"I sauntered down the long flight of steps, holding to the railing, and
all at once I heard Dad's voice below me. I almost ran up the steps in a
hurry, but what I heard was interesting, so I scrooched down on the step
right where I was to listen a minute. _That_ was curiosity, I'll admit,
and I ought to have been noble enough not to have done it,--only that
things are queer, and when they are, a body has _some_ right to find
out. What do you think, Leslie?"
"I don't know, Peggy; but it does seem that way."
"Anyhow Dad was saying next, 'They are not mere children to be
frightened and driven off as you supposed. If I had known that what you
told me was an absolute lie, I wouldn't have gone as far in my statement
to them as I did. Just let it drop.'"
Peggy's air and dignified speech so reminded the girls of the suave Mr.
Ives that both of them smiled broadly. The words were brutally frank,
but Peggy's tone robbed them of sharpness. Now she was the cold Count in
her recital. The girls could fairly see him draw himself up in courteous
resentment.
"'You do not mince words, I see. It was the only way to produce the
effect through you. If you believed it yourself, you could intimidate
them.'"
"'But they were not intimidated. I do not like this intimacy with my
daughter any more than you do. But the first object must be to avoid
suspicion. I would suggest that we employ'--then I missed a few words
just at the important place! Dad dropped his voice a little, and you
know how the surf roars sometimes. But I got _one clue_ or one thing
that might be as important. The Count started in to talk. 'See to it,'
he said, 'that they'--then a mumble of words--'by the twenty-eighth.'
"I said it over to myself, so I wouldn't forget to tell you girls
exactly what had been said, and then I realized that Dad was coming up
the steps. They shook, as you remember they do a little when somebody
walks. It was too far to get to the top before he reached me, so what
did I do but whisk out to the side and drop under the steps to wait till
he passed!"
"But it is some distance, in places, to the rocks underneath!"
Peggy nodded. "I knew it, but it was 'instinctive,' as you say, Leslie,
to get out of Dad's way, and by good luck a nice rock was reachable
under my step. I just scrooched there again till Dad went by and I'm
sure he never saw me. I waited, because I thought the Count might come
next, but he never did, and I was so curious that when I hitched up
again--you ought to have seen my acrobatic performance, girls,--I
sneaked down the steps to the bottom and finally all around the place
and never a sign did I see of the Count. There wasn't a sign of a boat,
either, and there had scarcely been time, I think, for a boat to get
around behind the channel entrance."
"I don't know," Leslie said. "You may have taken more time than you
thought."
"Perhaps so, but wouldn't I have heard a boat?"
"A launch certainly, but not a row boat against the sound of the surf if
it was rather rough that night."
"Perhaps the Count was behind a tree," Sarita suggested.
Peggy looked at Sarita to see if she were in earnest. "You know very
well, Sarita, that there isn't a tree there!"
CHAPTER XI
THE INTENTIONAL "ACCIDENT"
"I wonder what Bill was doing down at your dock," said Sarita.
"It needs some repairs," Peggy replied. "I heard Dad say to Mother that
he was going to bring the yacht down from where _it_ has been undergoing
something or other. I smell that smoke again, Sarita. Where do you
suppose it comes from?"
Peggy jumped up and went out upon the shelf again. "Don't smell it at
all out here," she said. Sniffing, Peggy walked back further within
their rocky den. "Must be a volcano under here, girls. I smell it more
strongly."
"Do volcanoes smoke tobacco?" joked Leslie.
"This must be a new kind," Peggy returned. "Come here, girls."
Sarita and Leslie, rather cramped from long sitting, rose and shook out
their frocks. Leslie tossed a bit of her last sandwich to the rocks
below and said that the birds might have it.
"You are right, Peggy. It isn't very strong, but I do notice a bit of
tobacco smoke. Isn't it queer? Perhaps someone is outside and there is
some current that whisks the scent through here."
"Nothing like having an imagination, Sarita. Perhaps there is a
smuggler's den below us. We may smell the liquor if we stay long enough.
Perhaps Bill has some little cave inside, too." So speaking, Peggy again
ran out upon the ledge to look toward the Ives' dock on this side. There
was no sign of Bill.
"If there is this much of a cave here, why _mightn't_ there be one
somewhere below? We haven't found the way to one, but we just might have
missed it."
"That is so, Peggy," said Leslie. "_Isn't_ this odd!" Leslie and Sarita
were sniffing till Peggy laughed at the whole performance.
"If I looked as funny as you girls do, sniffing and going from one
crevice to another, I wonder that you didn't make fun of me at the
start!"
"We were more interested in the smoke than in how anybody looked,"
Sarita returned. "It is stronger way back here, don't you think so?"
Sarita was back where she was obliged to stoop considerably. There was a
crack, or fissure, and a hole of no great size into what Peggy called
the "inner darkness." "I believe that I could crawl into that," said
Peggy, with some decision.
"Not for the world!" cried Leslie. "My dear chief investigator of the
'tri-feminate,' you might step off into space and fall into some crevice
that we _never_ could get you out of!"
"That _would_ be a calamity," grinned Peggy. "I won't then,--not now, at
any rate. It must be as you think, somebody is smoking somewhere and a
current brings the odor up here,--but some way that theory doesn't
satisfy me."
"That is because we _scent_ a mystery, Peggy," said Sarita. "It's fun to
imagine things. I'd just as lief find _Bill_ to be a villain, but
perhaps we'd better not meddle too much with things around here, Peggy."
Peggy set her lips together. "If there's anything that _ought_ to be
found out, why, then, it ought to be,--that's all there is about it!"
Peggy's attitude settled it. Though the older girls felt that care
should be taken not to go beyond the bounds of courtesy within the
limits of Steeple Rocks, they certainly had no objections to Peggy's
solving any mystery there, particularly if the Count were the chief
villain.
Peggy had not told them of her little adventure in such detail before.
With the words of Peggy's step-father clearly in her mind, Leslie felt
jubilant to think that their possession was to be practically
undisputed. But what other plan was there in which they were probably
concerned? She would tell Dalton, or get Peggy to tell him. Probably
Peggy would enjoy the excitement of it. The date was interesting. That
would be July twenty-eighth, perhaps. Was something to happen to them
before that time? "See that they ... by the twenty-eighth!" Pleasant
prospect!
Such thoughts ran through Leslie's mind and Sarita asked her what she
was thinking about.
"I'm just thinking what the next enemy move will be. Peggy, I hope that
you can find out what the plan is and what they intend to do to us."
"I'll try," Peggy promised. "What I'm wondering about is how we can get
over on the front of the cliff and see if there are any caves there."
"I don't know that I ever used my glasses on the headland when we were
close," said Sarita. "Suppose we take the Sea Crest out and go over that
way."
"You forget how we watched those gulls and things that were roosting up
there," Peggy reminded Sarita in her usual indefinite way at which
Sarita always laughed.
"Gulls and things, indeed. I'm sure that I found an eagle's nest and we
were following a bald eagle as he flew. However, girls, I'm not so sure
that we'd see anything if it were there. We never saw _this_ from the
bay, you know. There is one opening that we know of."
"What's that?" Peggy inquired.
"There in Pirates' Cove."
"But there is the whirlpool, or whatever it is, and the buoys say
danger."
"Sometimes I have wondered if that were a fiction," thoughtfully Leslie
remarked, "just to protect the old pirates or smugglers; and maybe Bill
and his rum-runners take advantage of it. Do you remember, Sarita, how
those gulls the other day were floating near that place? It was fairly
quiet, you know, not much spray on the rocks, and I noticed how wide
that low opening is. I think that a person could almost stand up there,
if there is anything to stand on. I'd like to find out how it looks at
low tide. I'm not sure that we ever were out there or thought of it at
low tide. Were we?"
The other girls did not know, but Sarita suggested that they would not
dare risk going among the rocks there in any event and the girls agreed
with her. "Dalton would go up in the air if we rowed in there, to say
nothing of Elizabeth," said Sarita.
"I'd like to _do_ it, girls," and Peggy's tones vibrated with her
suppressed energy.
"Much you would, if you once got inside and found that the whirlpool, or
undertow, or what not, was no joke. Promise me that you'll not try it."
"Oh, I'll not do anything of that sort without you girls. But if ever
you do, I want to be along."
"It is a bargain," laughed Leslie, with no serious thoughts of its
possibility.
Peggy had asked permission to stay at the Eyrie if she were asked for
supper, rather imagining that she would be, if chance took her there at
the time. Jack probably would be working with Dalton until late. She
welcomed, accordingly, the suggestion of their going out in the Sea
Crest to take a look at the great bulk of the headland where it jutted
out in its irregular masses over the waters that bathed its base. Before
leaving, however, Peggy tarried behind to carry out an idea.
It took the girls some time to climb carefully back to level ground and
they took their own pace through the woods, or along the cliff, as fancy
directed on their way back to the camp. They found Jack and Dalton
perspiringly happy over their wood-chopping activities, for they were
now trimming the trees of their branches and taking these to an open
spot where they would dry for firewood.
"Don't take the Sea Crest," said Dalton. "Catch us a fish for supper,
girls."
"All right, we'll either catch or buy one for you boys. Where's Beth?"
"Haven't seen her this afternoon. She said that she was going to write
to Mrs. Marsh. I went down to the village for her to get some groceries;
so mind you have a good supper for your workmen, Les!"
"We will. I'll stop to see Beth."
At the camp they found Beth bringing up her correspondence, which was
such a waste of valuable time in this glorious spot, the girls thought.
Leslie and Beth planned their meal, which was to be a good one, whether
they caught a fish or not. Peggy received her desired invitation before
they descended the rocky way to where the row boat was moored. Sarita
had stopped at the tent to get her field glass.
They looked rather longingly at the Sea Crest, but their purpose could
be as easily accomplished in the Swallow and there was a better chance
of catching a fish for supper. Leslie was in charge of the fishing
tackle and prepared to lure some unwary denizen of the deep to its
destruction. So Sarita said, as she put her glass in a safe place and
took the oars.
The bay was calm and beautiful. This, after all, was their chief
pleasure.
Rowing steadily, for there was really no time to waste if they caught
any fish for supper they reached the spot immediately opposite Pirates'
Cove and its frowning cavern.
"See? There are a lot of water birds now," said Leslie, pointing to some
herring gulls that floated contentedly in the cove, not very far from
the opening.
"Yes," said Sarita, "but remember that they can lift their little feet
and fly away from any wave or tugging below."
Letting her oars rest, Sarita took her glass and began to scan the rocks
above. "What's that sign up there?" she queried, her glass turned toward
the left. "Funny! I never noticed it before."
Sarita lowered her glass and looked at the girls. Peggy was as sober as
a judge, her eyes widening. "Let Leslie look first," she said, as Sarita
offered her the lenses.
Sarita put them into Leslie's hand and she, too, expressed surprise.
"There doesn't seem to be anything written on it," she remarked, still
looking. "It is just a square white thing of some sort."
Sarita looked again and then offered the glass again to Peggy, who did
not try to keep from laughing now. "You little mischief!" Leslie cried.
"Sarita, that is where we were this afternoon and Peggy stuck something
up there. What is it, Peggy?"
"Oh, there was just a piece of pasteboard in the bottom of the basket
and I had a brilliant thought. That is why I stayed behind and you had
to call to me to hurry up. I just pinned our paper napkins on top of the
pasteboard and then stuck it up. The first good wind will blow it down.
I thought that we could tell from down here what was next to it, you
know, and whether there would be any chance of getting around any
further."
"Did you want our retreat discovered, Peggy?"
"I thought of that, but I imagine that people have climbed all over
there before, don't you?"
"Very likely," Leslie replied. "Now be good children while I get ready
to catch Dal's fish."
The boat had drifted a little, and Peggy, who now was the only one with
oars, looked mischievous as she allowed it to go just within the circle
indicated by the chief buoy and one or two others. The other girls did
not notice. Sarita was scanning the cliff and Leslie was engaged with
the line.
But they heard a hail and saw a boat approaching. "They'd better do all
their calling before I begin to fish," said Leslie, looking at the
approaching boat. "That's Bill and there's somebody else,--oh, it's Tom!
We haven't seen him for an age."
Tom was beckoning and Leslie looked around to see what could be the
matter. "Peggy," she said; "child, you've gotten us inside the forbidden
territory. Pull out!"
Peggy did so without a word, but Tom continued to pull toward them and
came up smiling. "How do you do, Miss Secrest and--?" He did not mention
the other names, but took off his cap in salute. "Bill called my
attention to you and I saw that you were in dangerous quarters, so I
rowed over. See what luck we have had."
Tom displayed the fish in the bottom of their boat with pride, while the
girls acknowledged the presence of Bill with little nods and "how do you
do's." He was not very responsive and one "How do you do, Miss?"
sufficed for all.
"Oh, Tom!" exclaimed Leslie, who felt that she knew the lad that had
shown them how to run the Sea Crest. "Couldn't we buy some of those
fish? We're not doing it for fun this time. The boys are hungry for fish
and Dal doesn't have time to fish these days--he's so busy getting ready
to build our log cabin." Leslie cast a surreptitious glance at Bill,
remembering his warning to Dalton. But Bill was looking at Sarita's
glass, which she held loosely in her hand.
"Of course you can have some of our fish. We were going to sell them
anyhow. It will be all right with you, Bill, won't it? I'm working for
Bill now sometimes, Miss Leslie."
Bill had surlily nodded assent to Tom's question, while Leslie bent over
eagerly to look into the other boat, now close beside them, and to
select her fish.
"Kin ye see very fur with them, Miss?" Bill was now asking Sarita.
"Oh, yes," she replied. "It isn't exactly like a spy glass, you know,
but you ought to look at the moon with it some night when it's full!"
Sarita bid fair to start on her favorite fad now.
"I noticed ye lookin' at the rocks. What wuz ye lookin' fur? Do ye mind
lettin' me look through 'em?"
Sarita handed over her glass immediately. "Certainly you may use it,"
she said, though by this time it had occurred to her that Bill's
question might have some other ground than mere curiosity. But it would
never do to show any reluctance. "I thought that I found an eagle's nest
the other day, and I was looking for that first. Then that forbidding
old cliff is interesting anyway, don't you think so?"
Bill grunted some reply as he focused the lenses with no unpracticed
hand. "Somebody's tacked something up there," he said presently, the
glass pointed in the direction of the "retreat."
"I did that," said Peggy. "That is to show our prowess. We've been
climbing around about as far as we could go, I guess, and I was
wondering if there weren't other places we could get to."
This was very bold, Sarita thought, to the man who was very likely the
chief smuggler. But then, Bill worked for Mr. Ives, she knew.
"You'd better be keerful, Miss Peggy. Fust thing ye know, ye'll miss yer
footing and git drawed under in Pirates' Cove. Here, Tom, I guess she
wouldn't mind if you took a look, too," and Bill handed the glass to
Tom, who wiped his fishy hands first, then took it and looked through
the lenses with deep interest.
"No wonder you are crazy about the birds, Miss Sarita," said Tom. "I can
see every feather on that gull."
"I ought to have showed you when we were all on the Sea Crest so much,"
replied Sarita.
"I was busy then," said Tom.
Bill Ritter now asked Leslie if she had picked out the fish that she
wanted. Leslie then pointed them out and Bill started to gather them up.
Suddenly the boat tipped a little. Bill, stooping, seemed to lose his
balance and fell against Tom, unexpectedly. For _calamitas
calamitatum_,--Sarita's cherished field glass flew from Tom's hand,
seeking a watery grave just inside of Pirates' Cove.
Sarita gave a little exclamation. Bill's boat righted. Bill himself
caught hold of Tom, then of the seat, to place himself again, and the
incident was ended so far as the final disposal of poor Sarita's bird
glass was concerned.
Tom gave an angry and startled look at Bill, then began to kick off his
shoes and pull off his old sweater. "What're you doing?" growled Bill.
"Going down after her glass. You knocked it out of my hand! What did you
mean by falling over me that way!"
"I was trying to get their fish and put it over. Stay in the boat! You
can't dive here. You'll never dive deep enough to git it!" Bill laid a
detaining hand on Tom, who was distressed.
"Oh, yes, Tom," cried Sarita. "Don't go in after it. Bill is right, and
you didn't mean to do it!"
"I should say I didn't!" exclaimed Tom, struggling with a desire to
pitch Bill overboard. "I will get you some other good glass, Miss
Sarita, as soon as I can. No, Miss Leslie, not a cent for the fish.
That's the least we can do now. It was Bill's fault, too. I'll be up at
the camp to see you about this, Miss Sarita."
Seizing the oars, Tom rowed furiously away, paying no attention to
Bill's growlings. "Those squatters on Ives' land have enough money to
pay for our fish. That other girl picked three beauties and had her
money out to pay for them!"
Meanwhile Leslie, rather dazed by what had happened, picked up her oars
and with Peggy's help rowed quietly toward home. Sarita sat idle,
presently putting her face in her hands, while her shoulders heaved a
little. Peggy looked serious. "She cares a lot, doesn't she?" she said
in a low tone to Leslie.
Leslie nodded, her face also serious, and a frown between her brows.
Presently Sarita dropped her hands and wiped her eyes a little. "I
couldn't help a little weep, girls," she said. "You don't know the
things I went without to save up for that field glass! But it doesn't do
any good to cry. Perhaps I can buy another some time. I can't let poor
Tom buy any. He is taking care of his old grandmother now, Dal said.
They live in one of the neatest cottages in the village, but Tom has to
make what they live on. Dear me! Think of the birds that I'm going to
miss!"
"Sarita," said Peggy, "I'm going to buy some glasses. I'll tell Mother
that Sarita has gotten me simply crazy about birds and I must have some
binoculars like what Dad has, or some good field glasses right away!"
Peggy bent over her oars well satisfied with her plans, while the other
girls looked at each other and at her with smiles.
"What should we do without our Peggy?" affectionately Leslie inquired.
"Don't go too far, though, in saying how crazy you are about birds.
Stick strictly to the truth, honey."
"All right, Leslie. But I do like them and I want the glass awfully
anyway. I'd lend Dad's, only I don't suppose you'd want to use that. You
can teach me birds, Sarita, and we'll keep the glass at the Eyrie, so
Dad will not find out. I'll use my own money if you would feel better."
"Please, Peggy, don't do anything about it. I can get along. There are
enough other nice things in this grand place! And please don't say a
word about it at supper. I'll be able to enjoy the fun then. But if the
boys know, they may talk about it and I don't believe that I can stand
it just now."
Sarita's voice was quivering again. Peggy spoke at once. "It's a perfect
shame! Don't worry. I'll not say a word at camp. Besides,--I think that
Bill did that on purpose!"
"I wonder if he did!" exclaimed Leslie, looking at Sarita.
CHAPTER XII
ELIZABETH HAS AN ADVENTURE
It is not to be supposed that Elizabeth Secrest was not having as good a
time as the rest of the party, or that her days were altogether spent in
the work and play of the artist. In a delicious rest of mind and body
she had quickly gained back her nervous energy. Her camp life soon
settled into a brief routine of daily duties, quickly accomplished with
the help of the other girls, and into a rest and freedom from
responsibility that she had not known for a long time.
In this place of beautiful views and big spaces, worries seemed small.
She often went alone to the beach, to walk up and down, sketch a little,
pick up some newly deposited shell, or merely to sit, feasting her eyes
upon the apparently limitless sea.
One afternoon Beth was perched upon a rock, near the place where sand
gave place to rock and their headland. She was thinking of their log
house, so soon to go up now. Dalton was expecting the men on the
following day. Her back was toward the village and she was not conscious
of anyone's approach until she heard herself addressed.
"Pardon me, madam, is this the Ives' headland, and are these what are
called Steeple Rocks? From appearance I should say that they are farther
on, but my directions pointed here."
Beth looked around to see a young gentleman lifting his neat straw hat
and regarding her rather seriously. He looked like any young business
man from the city.
"No, these are not Steeple Rocks. This is the Sea Crest headland," said
Beth, making up the name as she talked. "Steeple Rocks lie around the
bay, or across it from here."
"They are those large masses of rocks with the two towers, then."
"Yes. I call them Cathedral Rocks."
"A good name." The young man smiled, looking at sea, rocks and sky,
turning away from Beth a little and putting his hands in his pockets,
like a boy who has just found a good place to play. Beth said nothing.
He looked good, but Beth was not in the habit of making acquaintance
with strange young gentlemen.
"I wonder if you would mind giving me a little information about this
neighborhood. I have just come by boat and rail from New York. I might
add auto, if one could so denominate the ancient ark in which I was
transported to the village."
Beth laughed at this. "It must have been an ideal ride," she said. "We
know all about that."
"I wonder if you are not Miss Secrest." Beth's interviewer hitched
himself up on a projecting rock near her. "I shall not trouble you long,
but you may be willing to give me some advice. I can not find a
desirable place in the village to stay, that is, a desirable place which
is not already full of tourists or town families.
"I came prepared to camp, but my driver told me that I must get
permission to camp in any of these woods and I was referred to the home
of a man named Bill Somebody. I caught a glimpse of him and I passed the
house instead of stopping! I thought I would stroll a while first. For
some reason I was not prejudiced in his favor." A whimsical smile curled
around the newcomer's lips.
"Bill seems to be the village type of ward boss and manager of the
general situation. My brother found that out when he had occasion to
inquire what sort of protection we might count on here. He found that
there was none at all aside from such as this man and his friends might
furnish."
"Indeed. Have you had trouble?"
"Nothing very serious so far, but it is just as well for a stranger to
know about this. It is a funny little village. I have sometimes felt
that I ought to do something for some of the people whom I have seen
there. Some of the women are so hopeless looking. But my brother tells
me to wait until we are better established. We are building a cabin."
"I am sure that this is Miss Secrest, then. My name is Evan Tudor and I
belong to that great army of aspiring writers that throng New York.
While I am writing that best seller, you know, I am on a certain
newspaper, and have another side line at times.
"Down at the dock a while ago I met a young fellow named Carey, who told
me that you owned the first woods up on the heights and that I might ask
you for permission to camp there for the night at least."
"Yes." Beth was hesitating. She liked the appearance of the gentlemanly
stranger, but would it do to offer him a place to camp in their woods?
"So, if your brother agrees, will you not consent? I make a neat camp
and I will not set the woods on fire."
Beth looked into the smiling face of the earnest young man and returned
his smile. He might be a help, indeed, if they needed a friend at any
time. "We are not stingy about our woods," she said, "to any one who is
careful. It is, I know, a fine place, because of the spring and good
water. We expect some friends to camp with us later on in the summer. I
think that I shall have to talk with my brother before I can say
positively that you can make a real camp on our place, but surely for
to-night we shall not refuse hospitality. Did you say that you have your
outfit ready? We might spare you some things."
"Thank you. You are generous and kind. It is quite a relief to have it
settled temporarily. Where shall I find your brother?"
"He went out with our launch this afternoon, but he may be back at any
time. You will probably want your equipment brought up by the road, not
on the trail along the cliff. I can scarcely tell you now where to go,
but you may select any spot that you like, if Dal is not there, and
someone can show you the way to our camp; whoever brings you up will
know the direction. It is toward the cliff, in any event. I will be
there, or at the Eyrie, our little watch tower on the cliff."
"Young Carey may bring my stuff, or get me some one," he said. "I will
be at the camp or the Eyrie in about an hour, I think."
Evan Tudor smiled as he mentioned the Eyrie, for he was thinking that
the "dove-cote" would be a more suitable place for a pretty, gentle girl
like Beth. But people did not always recognize in Beth's soft speech and
ways of a gentlewoman her real energy and the fire of purpose which made
it possible to do what she did.
Bowing his thanks, Evan Tudor left Beth, treading quickly and surely
close to the line of swirling foam, where the retreating waters were
leaving the sand more or less closely packed. Beth watched him naturally
enough, as he was the only person on the beach except herself. He
carried his hat and let the breeze blow his thick brown locks as it
would while he strode along. If the young lawyer at home had seen the
interest in Beth's eyes, he would very probably have refused the
opportunity which had just come to him to try an important case, and
might have come to Maine on the next train.
Mr. Tudor was above medium height, slender, active, with a lean,
attractive face and a pair of keen gray eyes which were to be employed
with great effect during the next few weeks in the lines of a duty and
interest. Beth followed him with her eyes till he had left the beach for
the village; then she rose to go back to camp. But she had another
slight interruption before she reached the place where the Secrest party
usually climbed to the trail.
Rarely villagers were to be found on this part of the beach, unless it
might be a few children gathering shells. Now, however, an odd party was
slowly advancing along the shore. Two women with little shawls tied over
their heads, long, full skirts and big shoes, were behind a few children
who were shouting in their delight.
The women were talking together and madly gesticulating as they talked.
One of the peculiarly dressed children went too near the water and a
wave which came in farther than the last one, as waves have a habit of
doing, drenched the little one's feet. His mother, presumably, jerked
him away roughly and spanked him soundly.
Beth halted a moment at that and eyed the woman with some disgust. But
that was an ignorant woman's way of bringing up her family. As Beth
paused, one of the older children saw her and ran to show her a shell,
probably attracted by Beth's face. An elfin face, none too clean, looked
up at Beth, speaking a jumble of words in a foreign tongue. Beth shook
her head to indicate that she did not understand, but she smiled and
patted the little shoulder. In a moment the motley group stood around
her.
As Beth had picked up a handful of pretty shells when she first walked
out upon the beach, she divided them impartially among the children. The
mothers began to talk in guttural and foreign words, but Beth replied in
English, knowing that it would be useless to try French, the only
foreign tongue in which she could speak at all.
The women and children laughed, and one little chap spoke proudly,
waving his hand around. "'Merica!" he repeated several times.
"Yes, this is America and the United States," Beth added.
The child nodded. He understood that.
Beth turned to the women and inquired, "New York?" But they looked at
each other and obviously did not understand.
Beth tried it again. "Boston?" she asked, for she felt that they must
have come in on some recent immigrant trip. Again the women shook their
heads. If they had docked at either New York or Boston they had not
learned the name of the port.
The older boy who had spoken before was watching Beth closely. He now
pointed out to sea and said, "Ship,--'Merica." Beth nodded, smiled and
turned to go, with her inadequate words of farewell. But they understood
the friendliness in Beth's eyes and responded with more unintelligible
words from the women and farewell shouts from the children, who went
back to the swirling foam, or as near as they were allowed to go.
More fishermen and their families brought to the village by Bill, Beth
supposed. He must bring them directly from the immigrant
ships,--or--another thought came to Beth. What if these people had no
right to be here! Were they aliens properly coming in under the quota
allowed by the government? Perhaps Bill brought in some of his fishermen
illegally. "Poor little kiddies," Beth thought, "this is probably the
first time that they ever played upon a beach!"
When Beth reached camp, she found that Dalton and the girls had already
returned. "I'm so glad that you are here, Dal," said she, "for I don't
know but I've done something that I ought not."
"What has the head boss done," grinned Dalton, "that she is willing to
confess to a mere underling?"
"Underling--nothing! You are the protector of this camp."
"Come out, Les, Sairey,--and hear what our sister has to say for
herself," Dalton called.
The girls came out from the tent with smiling faces, ready to hear some
joke on Beth. "What's Beth been up to?" queried Sarita. "Has she made
friends with the Count? Promised Bill and Mr. Ives to leave these
shores?"
"Worse," laughed Beth. "I've rented camping space to a dangerously
handsome young man. Seriously, Dal, if the young man I met on the beach
just now is as good as he looks, it may not be a bad thing for you to
have him somewhere near us while you build. But I made arrangements only
for his camping in our woods to-night. You will have to decide the
matter."
"How old is he?" Sarita inquired.
"I'm sure I don't know. He is a writer, from New York, and must have
come here as blandly ignorant of accommodations as we might have been. I
think that he expected to find a suitable room for a night or two in the
village. But he has all his camping outfit, I understand. Tom Carey must
have directed him to us, from what he said."
To her interested audience Beth gave the details of her two adventures.
Leslie was more interested in the children than in the young man and
asked all about the party. "Funny that Bill gets all these new
immigrants," she remarked.
"No, Leslie," said her brother. "You see, Bill ships fish by boat or
rail and he can get these people to work for him for next to nothing.
You ought to see the shacks they live in. I bet some of them wish that
they'd never come to 'Merica."
"But at least they have enough to eat, catching fish," said Sarita.
"I doubt it, if they work for Bill."
"Come, children, I must hurry," said Beth. "There is a meal to cook and
I promised to meet our boarder at the Eyrie." Beth put on an expression
of great dignity.
"Ha!" exclaimed Dalton. "Do you girls realize what has occurred? Never
can we leave our sister unchaperoned again!" Dalton linked his arm in
Beth's and began to stride around the camp with such long and
exaggerated strides that Beth, laughing, had to run to keep up with him.
But when she told him that the stranger would really arrive by way of
the wood, he stopped and more sensibly directed their way into it, while
Leslie and Sarita not understanding what that move meant, waved a
goodbye.
"I'll walk with you a little way," said Beth. "Have you seen anything of
Peggy or Jack to-day?"
"Not a thing. Peggy was coming early, too, for I told them that I was
taking a day off before my men came to work on the house and that we
would take out the Sea Crest."
"Probably Mr. Ives has come home. Peggy so cherishes coming here, or so
she says, that she does not risk him forbidding her to come."
"He knows all about it, though. Didn't Peggy relate what he said about
disliking the 'intimacy' with us?"
"Yes, but that makes Peggy all the more afraid that he will stop it.
Possibly he thinks that he will know what we are doing through her,
however, though I can't imagine his getting much out of Peggy unless she
wants to tell. Leslie worries about it slightly."
"That is because it is not the sporting thing to accept a man's
hospitality when one is opposing him. That is what bothers Les when
Peggy takes her out in his launch or insists on her going around Steeple
Rocks. After all, the hospitality is extended by Peggy and her mother."
"Certainly, Dal. But Leslie and Sarita are not 'opposing' Mr. Ives
exactly, are they?"
"I am not so sure that their search for the 'secret' of Steeple Rocks
will not result in their finding Mr. Ives much concerned in something
decidedly out of the way. By the way, the launch put out from the
village last night, or early this morning. I was awake and I heard it.
It had disappeared in a thick fog by the time I reached the rocks."
"Peggy herself seems to think that something is wrong," said Beth,
thoughtfully, "but our girls scent a 'mystery' chiefly, and Sarita hopes
to find some 'pirate gold.'"
"Much good that would do her if she found it at Steeple Rocks, and the
Ives have enough wealth as it is."
CHAPTER XIII
"WAVES OF BURNISHED GOLD"
Before Beth realized it she was some distance within the thick forest
with Dalton and she was just saying that she must go back, when they
heard someone coming, off the scarcely recognizable trail, and
struggling through bushes. Dalton, called, "this way," thinking that it
was probably Mr. Tudor.
It was the young man himself, fortunately for his good suit of clothes,
in which Beth had first seen him, now attired in camping costume, with
high leather buskins. "I missed the path, didn't I?" said he, smiling
and pulling off his cap, "but I was pretty sure of the general direction
toward the sea."
"Mr. Tudor, this is my brother, Dalton Secrest," said Beth. "He will
help you choose a place for your camp."
Dalton held out his hand, liking Evan Tudor at once. "I'm glad to meet
you, sir. If you are a writer, I suppose that you want a quiet spot?"
"You are right; I should prefer to be back in the woods rather than near
the shore. It will give me exercise to take a run to the ocean every
day. But I want to thank you for allowing me to camp in your woods. I
shall help protect it, I assure you."
"I believe that you will, and we may need you, indeed. There is no
reason why you should not stay as long as you like."
Evan Tudor was surprised and delighted at this quick decision and told
Dalton that he should have no reason to regret it, while Beth, seeing
that her share in the affair was over, excused herself and went back to
camp, though not before she had invited Mr. Tudor to be their guest at
supper. "Perhaps I will send the girls to call you after a while," she
said. "I suppose that you will show him to some place not too far from
the spring, Dal?"
"Yes, Beth."
While Dalton and Mr. Tudor went back along the poorly defined bridle
path to the road, which came from the village to the wood, then took a
great curve to avoid it, Dalton explained that there would be some noise
for several days while the men were putting up the log cabin, but that
there was a good place for a camp of which he was thinking. "You will be
surrounded by woods, though the spot is comparatively open, and if it is
not too far from the spring you may like it. The little stream from our
lake takes a turn there, and there are rocks on which your fires will be
safe. Indeed, you might use that water safely, for the lake is never
polluted in any way. It is little more than a big pool, fed by springs
and a tiny brook above."
"That sounds fine, but are you not building near your 'lake'?"
"Not too close, though we are nearer the spring than we are at our camp.
Beth hated to leave the vicinity of the sea. But now she sees that it
will be better to be closer to the water supply."
Mr. Tudor asked a number of questions and seemed to be interested in the
way to reach Steeple Rocks from the woods. He inquired, too, about who
were spending the summer there, in such a way that Dalton wondered if he
had heard of the Ives before.
Not knowing of any reason why he should not be communicative to this
sincere appearing young man, Dalton mentioned Peggy, her mother and
step-father, the Count, the foreign governess and the guests. He even
told him of Mr. Ives' request that they should leave. "I tell you this,
Mr. Tudor, because you, too, may not be wanted here. I'd keep an eye
out. Have you any way of defending yourself? By the way, though, we'd
rather not have any hunting done here."
"I have no interest in hunting--animals, or small game of any sort," and
Evan Tudor laughed. "But I am armed, after a fashion." Evan Tudor knew
only too well that he would not be wanted, but he hoped to carry out the
idea of a harmless writer on a vacation and to conceal his real purpose
in coming. It was true enough that he was a writer, also that he needed
a vacation. "Is there anyone besides Mr. Ives who feels inhospitable?"
he asked.
"Yes. A man whom they call Bill interviewed me, too, and warned me to
mind my own affairs around here. He has a lot of people fishing for him
and ships the fish. I rather think that Bill does a little rum-running,
for there is much drinking in the village. Bill may ship that, too, for
all I know. You may have to convince Bill that you are not employed by
the government to detect rum-runners."
"If Bill inquires," said Mr. Tudor with a smile, "you may tell him from
me that I am not a prohibition agent, though I might do my duty as a
citizen in that line, if necessary. However, I've another purpose, and
I'll mightily enjoy this woods of yours.
"By the way, I'd like to interview some of those interesting foreign
citizens in the village. The setting for them here is just a little more
intriguing than in New York, for a change. A friend of yours down there
told me a good deal about you. What sort of a chap is Tom Carey?"
"Oh, Tom Carey is straight and all right, if he does work for Bill. Bill
has taken a notion to Tom and I suppose he finds him smarter and more
reliable than most of his workers. You will have to be careful if you
interview those foreigners. Bill may not like it."
"I see. I'm to be careful about one Mr. Bill Ritter."
They were pushing through the woods as they talked. Presently they
reached the road where a man waited with a heavily-laden mule. Evan
Tudor picked up a typewriter from the protection of some bushes and
Dalton gathered up a suitcase, which he saw by the side of the road, and
a basket of what he judged were groceries. "It was quite a walk for you
with these things," he said.
"Not so bad," said Mr. Tudor. "I had help and the mule carries the most
of the outfit."
It took almost as much time to get through the woods as to unload the
outfit, but Dalton assured Mr. Tudor that in the direction of their camp
the woods would be found more open and that it was not as far as it
seemed. Evan Tudor was delighted with the camping spot and started at
once to set up his small tent and arrange his supplies. Dalton began to
help him, but the departing man, after he had received his pay, waited a
few moments and then asked Dalton to "walk a piece" with him. "I want to
ask ye somethin'," he said.
There was a twinkle in Evan Tudor's eye as he glanced after them. He
hoped that Dalton would establish what the modern youth sometimes calls
his "alibi" and successfully divert suspicion; for Evan Tudor was on a
quest.
"Say," said the man, as he and Dalton had reached a spot out of hearing
and Dalton stopped, not thinking it necessary to go any farther. "Say,
Bill wants to know what this chap is up to. Is he any coast guard
feller?"
"Bill came to see us when we first came, and I just told Mr. Tudor that
Bill was the high ruler of this little village and would very likely
want to know about him. He laughed and said that he had nothing to do
with catching rum-runners, or words to that effect. He is a writer
looking for material and taking a vacation, I suppose. He just came from
New York.
"But I'm going to say to Bill sometime that he is going a little too
far. The way he does things around here makes any square people
suspicious. I'm too busy right now to spend any time on fellows like
Bill Ritter, but I am a good citizen of my country and I'm not
_protecting_ that sort of thing, either. Bill had better stick to
fishing if he doesn't want to get into trouble some day."
"I kinda thought you'd feel that way about it," said the man, "but
you'll have to tell Bill that. Some of the rest of us don't like Bill
any too well, but--well, the kids has to have bread and butter. Bill
didn't tell me to ask was he with the coast-guard. That was my put-in.
Bill told me to find out what he was up to. See?"
"Well, now you know, and you can tell Bill from me that I informed Mr.
Tudor about unfriendliness shown us and told him to be on the lookout!"
The man laughed roughly. "I will. Sure he's a writer fellow all right?"
"That is what he told me, and he talked like one. You noticed that he
carried his little typewriter case, didn't you?"
"Was that what it was? I noticed that he parked it kinda careful."
Dalton felt that this conversation had not been in vain. He repeated it
to Mr. Tudor, who was setting up a small heater and began to demur in
regard to taking supper at the Secrest camp. "It's an imposition," he
declared. "I have plenty to eat right here."
"Sure you have, but what will Beth think? Moreover, we caught too many
fish to-day for four people to eat up. Better not refuse to come,--make
it a celebration of getting into the woods on your vacation."
Dalton had scarcely stopped speaking when a feminine "Hoo-hoo" sounded
from the woods across the stream. Leslie and Sarita were calling them.
"Hoo-hoo," replied Dalton in shrill imitation, and added, "we'll be
there, girls; give us ten minutes longer here."
Evan Tudor straightened up from his work to look across at the two
smiling girls. Introduction was impossible, but he raised his cap and
smiled, standing "at attention," Sarita said, till they were lost again
among the green spruces and birches.
The girls reported to Beth what Dalton had said and preparations went on
accordingly. The big fish were baking in the outdoor oven which Dalton
had made. Beth was stirring up some blueberry muffins, to be baked in
the oven of the "portable."
"We were stunned, Beth," said Sarita, "by the style and bearing of your
latest conquest. Not to be conceited at all, he looks like our kind of
folks. Let's see, what's that sweet poem?
"'When I behold thy lovely face
'Neath waves of burnished gold,'--what's the rest of it, Les?"
"That's all we ever did get, Sarita. Beth found us as we had just begun
to read it off, Dal and I."
Beth, her lips tightly pressed together to keep them from laughter,
pretended to be deeply offended. "Such girls! Come, now, Leslie, get out
a glass of that jelly we brought from home and finish up the table."
"It's serious, Sarita," laughed Leslie, still teasing her sister. "She
is giving him our precious jelly!"
"Don't you really want to, Leslie?" Beth asked.
"Of course I do, silly. I know well enough that you are following
Mother's rule of the best for guests. Where are the rest of those linen
napkins? I suppose you will use those this time."
"Yes, if we have any. Look in my trunk, top tray. If you can't find
them, we'll just use the paper ones." But Beth kept laughing at the
girls, for when Sarita suggested that Mr. Tudor was probably about
forty, Leslie corrected her to "I should say thirty, just right for
Beth, and poor Jim writes that they can't come yet!"
"I don't blame him for taking that case, do you, Leslie?"
"No, Sarita, of course not, but what is it that Shakespeare says about
opportunity?"
"Perhaps Mr. Tudor is not as good as Jim."
"He is much more attractive, though I'd vote for Jim now because he is
such a good friend."
"Well you can't help whom you fall in love with or don't."
"Yes, you can. At least you can keep away from people you don't want to
fall in love with, like some _fascinating bad_ man; but I suppose that
you can't very well make yourself fall in love with _everybody_ that
likes _you_."
"I'm _so_ glad that I have you girls' wisdom and experience to guide
me," demurely said Beth, and Leslie was just thinking up some brilliant
reply when they saw Dalton and their guest. But Leslie managed to
whisper to Sarita before real introductions took place, "There's where
Jim will have to do his best, because Beth doesn't care enough for him,
if I'm any judge."
Courteously Evan Tudor met the two girls, but he actually seemed almost
embarrassed about having accepted the invitation to supper. "Really I
think that it is enough to let me camp here, Miss Secrest," he said.
"I finally persuaded him," said Dalton, "by telling him that his 'name
was already in the pot' and that it would upset all your arrangements if
he didn't show up."
"Of course we would have been disappointed," cordially Beth added. "Now
just excuse us a moment till we get up this camp meal."
With her flushed cheeks and pretty smile, Beth made a charming hostess
and Sarita whispered to Leslie as they began to do a few last things,
"For all Beth says, he sees the 'burnished gold' all right."
There was gay conversation and exchange of news during the good but very
informal meal that camping made necessary. The Secrests described the
locality, in which Evan Tudor was so much interested and he, in turn,
had bright accounts of his recent experiences in the great city. "I am
going to forget it all for a few weeks," he said. "If I write here, it
will be because I can't help it. I brought the old typewriter along for
fear the 'best seller' might insist on being written; but all that I
really expect to do toward my future profession is to fill a notebook or
two for future use. Well, I have one or two sketches to get off at
once."
"Will you put us all in for 'characters' in your 'best seller,' Mr.
Tudor?" Sarita asked.
"You might all figure in my fiction, but I'll not use you as 'types.'"
"Thanks. I'd be proud to be in one of your novels, but I'd rather not be
a 'character sketch.'"
"Beth 'sketches' too," said Leslie.
"Now, Leslie, are you going to play the part of _l'enfant terrible_?"
asked Beth. "Please don't mention my efforts!"
"Your brother has already told me that you are an artist, Miss Secrest.
I wish that I might see how you interpret this place."
Quickly Beth looked at Evan Tudor. He spoke of interpretation. Perhaps
he was one who understood. But voices were coming from the woods and Mr.
Tudor turned to look in that direction. "Hitch 'em anywhere, Jack," they
heard. It was Peggy Ives with her cousin.
CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW CAMPER
It could be easily seen that Peggy was under some excitement. She almost
sparkled as she ran into the little clearing, alone first, for Jack was
doing her bidding with the horses. She was wearing a new riding outfit
and cried, "Look at me, folks. Don't I look grown up?"
Not a little was she taken back upon seeing the stranger, but she
recovered herself quickly, especially as Dalton rose and took a step
toward her as if to protect her from criticism. Gaily Peggy extended her
hand high, its fingers drooping. "Congratulate me, Dal," she said, "on
some new clothes. We're having company,--but excuse me, Beth, for
rushing in this way." Then she paused and waited to be introduced.
"Miss Ives," said Beth, formally and sweetly, as if Peggy were as grown
as she claimed to be, "you will be glad to meet Mr. Tudor of New York, a
writer who is taking a vacation in our fine country."
Peggy stepped forward a little to offer her hand prettily and modestly,
as she had been taught to do. "I am glad to see you, Mr. Tudor, and I am
sorry that I interrupted your visit, but this is the first time that the
Eyrie has had company.
"The great excitement, girls," she continued, looking at Leslie and
Sarita, "is that we are having important guests and I can't get over
having new clothes and part of the responsibility."
Evan Tudor had said the few pleasant words of greeting that were proper
when he met Peggy, and stood by, interested. Jack Morgan now appeared,
equally resplendent in riding togs that were new. He came forward as
eagerly as Peggy had done, but as he was not saying anything, he was not
embarrassed when he observed the stranger.
After Jack had been introduced, he began to explain why they had not
been over. "Peggy and I have been trying to help my aunt with her plans.
Uncle is bringing down, or up, from wherever they are a prince and
princess, a grand duchess or two and I don't know whom else for a sort
of house party, I suppose. Aunt Kit had a telegram some time ago, but we
just heard about it lately. Then Uncle wired that he did not know just
when they could get together, but he would bring them in the yacht and
everything was to be ready to entertain them in their accustomed style."
"That might depend upon their recent fortunes, don't you think, Mr.
Morgan?" Mr. Tudor asked. He was standing with his hands behind him, a
little smile on his rather thin face. "European royalty has had rather a
hard time of it in some countries since the war."
"You are right. I imagine that the Russian grand duchess doesn't find it
any too pleasant at home."
"In fact she could not stay there at all," said Dalton, "if I know
anything about it."
"But probably Mrs. Ives' guests are not all exiles," Mr. Tudor added,
open for information.
"Mother and Dad met some of them abroad, I think," Peggy volunteered.
"And I think that Count Herschfeld knows some of them, and the Kravetz,
too."
Beth looked rather disapproving of Peggy's reference to her governess
and Mr. Tudor wanted to ask who the Count and "the Kravetz" were; but he
thought it not in good taste to ask any more questions. Peggy, however,
explained. "The Count, Mr. Tudor, is a sort of secretary for my
step-father. Do come over to see my things, girls. I shall have time to
play around for several days. Dad wrote that they would be here at the
latest somewhere around the twenty-eighth, he thought,--oh, girls,
that--" Peggy had just thought.
But Leslie spoke at once. "Indeed, we shall be over right away, Peggy.
Would to-morrow morning be too soon? It is not very long till the
twenty-eighth, is it, Dal?" Leslie looked soberly at her brother.
"Not very, Les."
"I wish that you would come, too, Dal. You have never been over and
Mother was saying that she wanted to see the rest of the Eyrie family."
"I want to see your mother, too, Peggy, but I'm too busy with the
building, you see. Bring your mother over here."
"I will, when the company goes. But then, she always has somebody."
Peggy looked rather cross at the thought.
"We'll ask your mother out for a little trip in the Sea Crest," Beth
suggested. "Perhaps she will feel that she can run off for a little
while."
"I believe that she might," Peggy replied.
Evan Tudor had noted Peggy's startled pause, and Leslie's question
concerning the date. He had a particular interest in matters here which
he was not disclosing yet, but he welcomed anything which threw any
light upon it. When Peggy and Jack went away after their short visit, he
walked beside Peggy's horse for some distance till it was necessary to
strike off from the trail or bridle path to his own little camp. Several
notes went into his small pocket notebook that night before he went to
sleep. He was inclined to go abroad to do a little investigating, but he
decided that first he should get some familiarity with the woods and
coast by daylight. It might be just as well, too, to have one good
night's rest. He expected to have few before the twenty-eighth.
Early the next morning Evan Tudor was at the roadside, waiting, and who
should come to meet him there but Tom Carey, who then rode to the town
at the railroad and sent a telegram, written at length, and signed E. T.
It was very innocent and related to a certain article which would be
ready for the press to meet the editor's date.
"Are you deeply engaged in the affairs of a certain man here named
Bill?" Evan Tudor facetiously asked Tom, as he handed him the written
message.
"No, sir. I catch fish for him," said Tom. "I might be doing something
else, perhaps, if he meant some things that he said to me, but what I do
I do in the open."
"Do you know what it is that Bill meant?"
"No; I thought that it was liquor, but I am not so sure now." Tom dug
his shoe into the turf by the side of the road with a troubled face.
"Would you consider finding out for me, if I should take you into my
employ without interfering with your work for Bill? Indeed, that would
be a part of it."
Tom looked up quickly. "You are after Bill!"
"I am not sure that I am at all. Something is wrong up here. Can I count
on you not to betray me?"
"Yes, sir. Something _is_ wrong up here. I've got to stay here with my
old grandmom that has been here all her life, and I'd like to see
somebody beside Bill running things."
"I picked you yesterday, from something you said," Mr. Tudor continued.
"I am taking quite a risk to tell anyone that I have a quest here, but I
shall need someone, and I happened to find that I need you right away. I
made this appointment with you not knowing that I should have to send
this telegram, but I hoped to secure your services. I _did_ expect to
enjoy a little fishing, but I suppose that I shall have to keep up my
writing a while, to give you the excuse of bringing fish to me every
day. Tell Bill that the writing chap has ordered fish, shrimp, lobster,
anything that you get particularly fine and every day. I mean to write,
too,--but not _all_ the time."
This mystery appealed to Tom, whose eyes sparkled. "You can count on me,
sir. Prob'ly Bill will charge you fancy prices, though."
"That is all right, and I'll pay you, too. It's going faster than I
thought. Sure you can carry it off so that Bill will not suspect? It's
all right for you to show an interest in me, of course."
"I've kept more than one thing from Bill already, sir."
"Don't forget, then."
Tom carried the telegram into the station with an air of great
indifference, as he happened to see a man who worked for Bill, in fact
one of Bill's chief henchmen, on the platform.
"H'lo, Tom. Wot'e ye doin' here?"
"What ye doin' yourself?" Tom was grinning. Perhaps it would do no harm
to let the man see the telegram. It would be better at any rate than to
make any mystery over it. He went right ahead about the business of
sending off the message, making out the blank and stuffing the original
paper, scribbled by Evan Tudor, into his pocket.
But the man was waiting curiously at the door. Tom hoped that it was
mere curiosity that moved him. "Wot's the matter? Any of yer folks
sick?"
"No. I'm sending a message for somebody else, the new man that came in
yesterday. I s'pose everybody in town knows--"
"Say, wot was it about? Bill was kinda suspicious las' night."
"Bill's always suspicious," laughed Tom. "Read it yourself." Tom pulled
the mussed paper from his pocket. "The man's on some paper. Abner said
that he wouldn't let anybody carry his typewriter but himself
yesterday."
"That so?" The man scanned the paper. "Lemme show this to Bill?"
"I don't know whether I ought to give it to you or not. There's nothing
private in it, I suppose, but he paid me to bring it and I was to ask
whether there was any message for him. Suppose he asks me about this?"
"_Was_ they any message fer him?"
"No."
"Well, I don't want it anyhow. I kin remember if Bill asts me."
But Bill was not quite satisfied with the report of his henchman. He
decided to see himself what the "young chap was up to," as he had done
in the case of the Secrests. Evan Tudor was quite pleased with himself
that he was running his typewriter at top speed, under the trees in his
chosen retreat, when a rough man appeared before him with a "Hello."
"Good morning sir." Evan looked up from his improvised seat on a
boulder. "Too fine a morning to waste this way, isn't it?'"
"Might just as well stay in the city if you have to write."
"Just what I was thinking. But I don't know. This is a pretty good place
to think; and I don't intend to keep it up after I get this off by mail,
and maybe one or two other things out of my system."
"Hunting a quiet place, then?"
"Yes; but it is partly for a vacation, too. Aren't you the man who runs
a lot of the fishing around here?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"I think I saw you in the village, and someone told me. I got hold of a
boy that works for you and I told him to bring me something every day,
fish, shrimp, your choicest of anything. Can that be done?"
"Yes, but you will have to pay for it."
"All right. Want a little pay in advance?"
"No objection."
"Don't cheat me, then." Evan Tudor's tone was not one which would give
offense, rather one inclined to banter. He felt in his vest pocket and
took out a folded bill, for five dollars. "That all right?"
"We'll do the best we kin fer ye." Bill pocketed the money. This chap
was easy. "Say are ye a friend of them Secrests? You was eatin' there
last night."
"Certainly I am a friend of theirs, though I never saw any of them
before last night. And I don't like that, Mr.--" Not recalling Bill's
name Mr. Tudor paused for a moment. "That looks a little as if I were
being spied on. Are there any parties around here from whom I may need
to protect myself?"
Evan's eyes flashed. Bill's eyes fell. He was used to taking the
initiative in threats. This was something new for him.
"If ye mind yer own business, I reckon ye needn't be afraid of nobody."
"That is good. I'll not be, but it is just as well in a new country to
be ready, I suppose. How are the village people about talking to
strangers? I want a little material in the line of characters and I may
wander among those interesting shacks a little. Will they throw me out?"
Mr. Tudor's face wore a whimsical smile.
"They might. I wouldn't advise ye to git too smart around here."
Bill sauntered off. He had come from the direction of Steeple Rocks, Mr.
Tudor noted. He smiled to himself as he started the typewriter once
more. He was _paying_ Bill, Bill the chief sinner, aside from _those who
paid him for doing what he was doing_.
Evan Tudor spent the rest of the day in spying out the land. He searched
the woods, finding it a glorious grove of beautiful trees and
interesting growths of bush and fern. He had the love of a scientist for
the different phases of wild life and spent some time over curious
flowers, taking a list of those he knew for future use in some setting
of a story. Toward dark, he entered the Ives' land and after dark he
wandered around Steeple Rocks, feeling justified in the intrusion, for
his quest was a trust.
But as it grew late he hurried back to his tent, for he rather expected
that some watcher would know whether he spent the night in his tent or
in "snooping." He thought that so far he had escaped observation since
evening fell. And after all, an early trip about would be only natural
to a newcomer. Evan tried to put himself in the place of the evildoer,
suspicious, fearful, and he wished at first to allay those suspicions.
As he approached his tent, he thought he heard a rustle in the bushes.
He put a tree between himself and the noise, but hummed a little. A shot
in the dark would be possible, but scarcely likely. Bill would be the
first one to be suspected, and Bill, whether able to prove an alibi or
not, did not want any investigating authorities.
So reasoning, young Tudor boldly walked to his tent, turned his
flashlight inside of it and finding it empty, except for his undisturbed
possessions, entered, lit a candle and prepared for the night. He lay
awake for some time, a little uncertain whether or not he might be the
intended victim of some attack. He was ready but nothing happened. No
suspicious noise of any human source disturbed him. Finally he had to
fight to keep awake, but when the stirring of the birds denoted the
dawn, he fell into a deep slumber and slept far into the morning.
CHAPTER XV
MORE DISCOVERY
There was early rising at the Eyrie on the morning after they had shared
their supper with the new camper. Jack arrived from Steeple Rocks even
before the men who were to help Dalton, and wore his working clothes. He
reported that Peggy was up, expecting the girls at any time, but he drew
Leslie aside, as he sometimes did, to tell her the developments at
Steeple Rocks. Leslie was glad that Sarita was still getting ready, for
Sarita was inclined to tease her over Jack's preference. It was clear
that Jack valued Leslie's opinion on affairs at least.
"My aunt is nervous and worried, Leslie," said Jack. "She announced this
distinguished company about to arrive, but does not seem certain just
when they will arrive. The Kravetz is back, but disappears for a long
while and pays no attention to Peggy. I overheard her say to Mrs. Ives
that it was absurd to dress up Peggy to help entertain '_for so short a
time_.' Then my aunt said that she intended to have someone of her own
right at hand, and she said it almost in a tone of desperation. The
Kravetz sometimes has an air of dictating to my aunt that I have
wondered about.
"Aunt Kit said 'all my own friends have been sent away on one excuse or
another and I have this lot of foreigners to entertain _again_, half the
time without my husband, I suppose!'
"'He will be here,' the Kravetz said, 'and the Count and I will help
you.'" Jack laughed. "The Kravetz got up and went into the house, and
Aunt Kit, who knew that I was in the hammock, came right over to me.
'Jack,' she said, 'if I ever needed my own people it's now. Promise me
that no matter how insulting Madame Kravetz or anyone may be, you will
stay around.' So of course I promised, though if I get scared out at
'royalty' I may come here and bring Peggy any time. Peg, though, is all
keyed up and tickled over her new clothes. It will be all right if I
escape to the Eyrie, will it?"
"You know that it will, Jack," said Leslie heartily. "Do you know who
any of them are?"
"No, not by name. I supposed that they were people of title that my aunt
and uncle met abroad; but from something she said I think that they are
people whom she has never met at all. Yet she spoke of entertaining them
'again.' How do you account for that, Leslie?"
"Perhaps she has had to entertain a different lot of them some other
time," said Leslie.
"I expected you to say that. I rather think that she has, and if they
are like the Kravetz, well, good-night!"
Leslie laughed at Jack's expression, but Jack looked around to see that
no one was near and bent to say something low into Leslie's ear. "Jack!"
she exclaimed, as if startled. Then she looked into his eyes. "Jack,
you've got it! That must be the matter over there,--and your aunt
suspects it, but isn't sure, or else,--"
Leslie broke off, for Sarita was coming. They both turned with smiles
and Leslie said, "Jack was just telling me of all the excitement over
the guests that are coming. He does not appreciate it at all and would
rather help build log cabins, I guess."
As Dalton came up to claim Jack, the girls started toward Steeple Rocks.
Sarita led the way, partly by the woods, but they decided to enter the
grounds near the cliffs and Sarita suggested visiting the "Retreat," or
Peggy's little Eyrie.
They found the rocks slippery from the mist, but the more cautious
Leslie followed Sarita's lead and they reached the cave without
accident. "That was a bit risky, Sairey," she said. "We'd better come
here when it is dry." But Sarita hushed her and reminded her that they
had come to see if they could notice smoke again.
Stooping, they went as far back as they could and Sarita observed that a
piece of rock was loose at the hole where Peggy had been tempted to
crawl in. She knelt and tugged at it, without any particular purpose
except that of general investigation. To her surprise, it gave way and
she nearly fell backward, losing her hold upon the rock, which rolled in
the other direction, instead of out, though it seemed to stop with a
bump against something.
Sarita looked up at Leslie with a comical expression as she straightened
herself and leaned forward to the opening again. She was about to say
something, when to the girls' surprise they heard an exclamation, "What
is that?" someone asked. Both girls instinctively drew back and put
their fingers to their lips in warning to each other. But what they next
heard they placed more as if the sound were conveyed through a speaking
tube in this curious place.
Another voice was answering. "Rocks fall once in a while. There's quite
a crack by you. It's more or less honeycombed, but there is no danger
here."
"I see. I noticed a little draught when I lit my cigaret." More
followed, but the persons speaking were not in the proper position now
for more than a murmur to be heard.
"How _lucky_ that we didn't say anything near that hole!" whispered
Sarita, as both girls withdrew toward the entrance. "Do you suppose that
anything we _have_ said here has been heard?"
"I scarcely think so. Something would have been done about it, you know.
It looks as if the secret of Steeple Rocks were nearly ours, Sarita,
doesn't it?"
"It certainly does. Wait. I'm going back a minute." Sarita knelt again
at the opening and thrust her head within, to Leslie's disapproval. She
followed her, catching hold of her dress and looking at the rocks above
her to see if any more had been loosened. She was relieved when Sarita
drew back again. "Too dark to see anything, Leslie," she reported when
they were outside.
They covered the rest of the way to Peggy's house with very little
conversation. "That was a stranger," Sarita commented.
"The other voice was like the Count's," said Leslie.
"Shall we tell Peggy?"
"I suppose so," said Leslie doubtfully. She was thinking about that.
What Jack suspected she would keep to herself for the present, but Peggy
had a right to know the secret of her Retreat.
Peggy was delighted to see them and took them to her room for what she
called the "gorgeous display," some very pretty but suitable frocks for
a young girl about to mingle with others who had them. "It is going to
be quite a house party," Peggy said, "and a few of them may stay for
some time, Mother says. It's awfully interesting, though 'royalty'
doesn't mean so much any more. We had a princess once while we were in
Florida and she had wonderful jewels. Mother thinks that there is one
girl about my age. You simply must come over, girls!"
"Clothes, my dear Peggy. Wouldn't we look great to a grand duchess, in
this rig, for instance?"
Leslie turned slowly around, with the air of a fashion show model,
displaying a sweater much the worse for wear and her oldest gym
bloomers. "I really meant to put on something better, like Sarita, but I
thought that I could sneak up to your room without your mother's seeing
me, and we want to go out in the boat afterwards, or we _did_ want to
go."
"I mind the maids more than I do your mother," laughed Sarita. "The last
time, you should have seen the scorn with which your mother's maid
looked at me."
"Pooh! What's the difference? You girl's always look like somebody nice,
no matter what you have on. Jack says so, too. But what has happened to
change you about going out in the boat? Is it going to be bad weather?"
Peggy glanced toward the window, where sunshine was driving the mists
away.
"Mercy no! It's going to be a _wonderful_ day. Leslie, tell Peggy what
we heard. It's a great discovery, Peggy."
Peggy threw across the bed her most cherished frock which she had saved
for the last to show them, and clasped her hands together in her
eagerness to hear what had happened. They all sat down together on
Peggy's low day bed, a pretty wicker affair which stretched at the foot
of the other bed. Peggy was in the middle. A background of silk and
fluffy chiffon and tulle behind them set off the three heads bent close
together, as the girls related in whispers what had occurred.
Peggy was delighted, with little thought of what the discovery might
imply. "Then there _is_ a cave somewhere! Girls, we have simply _got_ to
find it! Will you go back there now with me? I'll call Pugs, to hang up
the things, and get into my knickers and sweater in a minute!"
Peggy's maid came into the room while the girls were still waiting for
Peggy to scramble from one costume into another. She tried to smile and
help Peggy, but the girls could see that she had been crying. Peggy
explained as soon as they started out.
"I didn't know that dear old Pugsy cared that much for me. I've been a
lot of trouble to her. But honestly, she's almost a part of the family
to Mother and me. Perhaps Mother can get out of it, but Dad says that
Pugsy's got to leave. I must have a maid that speaks French now! If it
were Mother that wanted it, I could understand, but what does Dad care
whether I speak French or not?"
"It will be fine when you travel," said Sarita.
But Leslie, thinking of what Jack had said, wondered if Mr. Ives did not
want to employ another foreigner instead of "Pugsy."
A dark-browed maid who was dusting in the hall looked at them in none
too friendly a way. Even Sarita spoke of it afterward. But Peggy paid no
attention to their surroundings as they left the house behind and darted
past flower beds and masses of shrubbery on their way to the rocks.
Once there, Peggy viewed the hole and was duly impressed. She had
brought a flashlight, which disclosed nothing but rock beyond the hole,
with a slight descent to where the loose rock had rolled. Granite walls
and an arching ceiling were above.
Leslie knew that it was foolish for all of them to enter, though Sarita
declared that never a rock could fall on them. Nevertheless the prospect
was so tempting that Leslie crawled in after the others. There was at
least good air within. They hoped to find a passage to the cave whence
the voices had come; but after a short distance, which they could cover
without stooping, they were stopped by a granite wall as hard as the
rest of Steeple Rocks. There was a deep fissure, however, and there they
could feel a decided draught.
The light turned off, they sat down to listen. Perhaps they could hear
something more, if the people were still in the cave. Peggy suggested
that perhaps they had heard the Count and someone back in the office. "I
feel pretty sure that they have something back in the rock," whispered
she, "perhaps a real cave, and more than just Dad's safe."
But Leslie shook her head. "I may be mistaken, but I think that this
came from below."
As if to confirm her words, there came the sound of conversation, a mere
murmur at first, then a few words very loudly conveyed by this queer
speaking tube which nature had provided. The next were fainter, and then
there was the murmur. "He's walking around," Leslie suggested.
Peggy had a picture of someone restlessly pacing a cave.
"Well, I hope that Ives will hurry up this house party. I'm certainly
sick of staying here. How do I make up as an English lord, Bill?"
A hoarse laugh was the answer to this, but Bill was not standing so
close to the fissure, it was obvious.
"And how am I going to get out of this?"
"Same way you got in, by boat and at night."
"Why can't I leave in the daytime if you can?"
"Well, in the first place, you wouldn't care to play the fisherman, I
think, the way you look now, or to stay in one o' the shacks with the
rest o' the crowd. I kin take you out to-night, if you want to go, but
what I'm going to do now is to swim under water a ways. Want to try it?"
"No thanks. But I'll join the rest to-night. A little dirt on my face
will make it all right, and I'd rather be with folks than in this
terrible place."
"A little timid, huh?"
"I'll show you whether I'm timid or not!"
The girls were breathless, wondering what was going to happen, but the
ferocious Bill was evidently possessed of soothing powers. "No, now
there ain't no call to git excited. There's going to be enough people
here when the schooner comes in."
"Yes," sarcastically said the other man. "You're going to make enough
money to give up fishing by that time, aren't you?"
"I might if they wasn't others I had to divide with," growled Bill. "You
pay attention to yer own affairs. You got it fixed with Ives about
yerself?"
"Yes."
The girls heard Peggy gasp, but the voices were not sounding as if
either man were very near the "Steeple Rocks speaking tube," as Leslie
began to call it. Probably Peggy would not be heard.
For some little time the girls sat still, in uncomfortable positions,
but they heard nothing more. Peggy was the first to jump up, and by the
light of the flashlight which she carried, they all found their way back
to the opening and crawled out. "I forgot to look, girls," said Leslie,
"to see if there were other rocks that could get loose outside, and
after we were in there, listening to Bill and that other man, I began to
think what if a rock fell down and closed up this hole!"
"We could have called down the speaking tube, Leslie," Sarita suggested.
"Yes," said Peggy, "and have Bill see that we stayed in there forever!
'Sad loss of three bright young people at Steeple Rocks', would be in
the paper."
Peggy was so funny as she said this that Leslie and Sarita both laughed,
though the subject was far from laughable. Peggy was frowning now.
"Let's go right now and tell Jack," she said. "I certainly heard enough
about Dad, didn't I?"
Neither Leslie nor Sarita replied to this question, for they knew that
Peggy did not expect comment. They were helping each other around the
jutting part of the cliff now and did not resume conversation until they
were on the path. Then Peggy cried, "Oh, girls! I was going to watch to
see where Bill came out, weren't you?"
"Yes," said Leslie. "I thought of it when Bill said that he was going to
'swim under water a ways.' What possessed us? But, after all, we could
not have seen anything from the Retreat. Come on; let's climb down sort
of near your yacht dock, Peggy. Perhaps we can see Bill come out of the
water yet."
This was no sooner said than done. As quickly as possible, the girls
found a spot which would command most of the shore around the bay. The
girls looked over the surface of the cliff, as they had done many times
before, without finding any opening. "If he has to swim under water, the
cave _must_ be at the bottom," said Leslie, decisively, "and the only
place, girls, where a boat could go in, is in Pirates' Cove!"
"Then Bill will swim out there and get to the rocks outside on _this_
side,--unless he has a boat tied in the channel."
"I think that it would be too great a swim to the channel, unless it
would be right near our dock around there, and Bill would run the risk
of Mother's coming down to the beach or of somebody's seeing him from
the house."
"Your mother wouldn't be surprised to see Bill there,--not very, would
she, Peggy?"
"Perhaps not. Let's get up a step higher. We can look over these rocks
then, and duck down if Bill should come out anywhere near the dock.
_Then_ we shall have to scamper up and out of sight as quickly as
possible." In spite of Peggy's evident chagrin at the implications about
Mr. Ives in the conversation which they had overheard, she was enjoying
the excitement, Leslie could see. There might be some compensations for
Peggy, Leslie thought, in the discovery of Mr. Ives' operations, if it
led to her freedom from their shadow. But would it? What ought to be
done now? She must tell Jack at once,--so much was clear. But it might
be even dangerous for anyone who interfered. Could Jack and Peggy keep
their knowledge from Mr. Ives and that household of suspicious foreign
servants? The more Leslie thought, the more undecided she felt.
For some time the girls waited uneasily. Perhaps Bill had gone, or
perhaps he was taking some time, making ready for the "enough people"
who were to be there when the "schooner" came in! Probably they would
miss him altogether. No! There he was!
Peeping over the rocks, the girls caught each other's hands in their
excitement. Bill came up out of the water and shook it from him like a
big mastiff. He looked around hastily to see if he were observed and the
girls kept very still. Sarita and Leslie, indeed, ducked behind the
rocks, but Peggy, who had taken a black silk handkerchief from her neck,
wrapped it about her head and kept on looking.
It was not very likely that Bill would see them, yet he might if he
looked above on his way over the rocks from those at the base of Steeple
Rocks, where he had emerged from the Cove waters.
Peggy gave the word to start up. "He's going over the rocks now. Stoop
low and you'll get to the top in a jiffy! He'll only hope that we
haven't seen him, if he does see us. But it isn't so wonderful for a
person to go in swimming anywhere here."
CHAPTER XVI
THE DILEMMA
From the rocky steps where they had been watching the return of Bill
Ritter, Leslie, Sarita and Peggy plunged into the woods as soon as
possible and by that more devious route reached the Secrest camp. They
were rather surprised to find it not yet ten o'clock, but they had spent
much less time with Peggy, at what she called her fashion show, than
they had expected. Then the time spent in the Retreat and in waiting for
Bill's appearance must have been much less than it seemed.
When they reached the new clearing on the slight rise of ground not far
from the spring, they found Dalton and his men hard at work and Dalton
jubilant over the prospect of speedy building. Beth was sitting on a
pile of logs making a sketch of the place and the workers, "for us to
remember how it looked," she said.
Dalton dropped his work to join the girls and look at the sketch.
"Pretty good, sister," said he. "Do you know I've a great notion to
plaster this house and stay here through the winter."
"What do you mean, Dal,--stay _alone_, or no school for any of us?" The
tone of the surprised Beth was not as reproving as Dalton might have
expected.
"No school for anybody," asserted Dalton, though he had really not
thought this out before. "It would be the best thing in the world for
you, Beth, and think what snow scenes you could immortalize with your
pen, pencil and brush!"
"Ridiculous boy!"
"Oh, let me board with you instead of going to Florida. I never _have_
had any winter sports!" Peggy's voice was coaxing. "We'll have skiing
down the hills, that hill where you saved my life, Dal,--and skating,
and ice-boating and everything on the bay!"
Even Leslie and Sarita, who were more interested in lessons than Peggy,
brightened at the thought. "Poor me!" exclaimed Sarita. "I'd have to go
home and miss it all!"
"Vacation, Sarita," suggested Peggy, "the Christmas vacation."
"We'll skate on our little lake, Peggy," said Dalton, "as if it were
already decided, and we can have a dog-sled to take us to town,--"
"Crazy!" laughed Leslie. "But, Beth, I believe that Dal is in earnest."
"Wait till he has fires to make some morning when it is below zero, ice
to break, water to carry and everything frozen up."
"Not much worse than a furnace to take care of, Beth," said the man of
the house. "We'll have a big fireplace in one room and a big heater
somewhere, a shed full of coal, and wood on the place,--think it over.
I've got to work." Whistling a little, Dalton went back to help and
direct.
"Dalton just loves this," said Leslie, "but look, Beth, here comes Mr.
Tudor."
With a salute to everybody, Evan Tudor stopped first to speak to Dalton,
then joined the other group with greetings. Peggy, remembering her
impulsive entrance of the previous day, bowed sweetly, but with dignity,
while Leslie asked if he had been annoyed by the sounds of building so
early.
"I slept as if I should never waken this morning and I have only just
eaten my breakfast. There must be something in this air, as advertised!
I prowled around a while last night, enjoying the woods and the shore.
At this rate, it looks as if you would have a house up in no time."
"They will," said Peggy, "and Dal is planning to make it so they can
stay all winter." Peggy looked wickedly at Beth.
Evan Tudor looked surprised, but said, "It would be very beautiful here
in winter."
"I'd like to try it once," said Leslie, "but not unless the whole family
wanted to do it, for Beth might get pneumonia and then we'd be in a
pretty pickle!"
"It would be lovely here, with the ice and snow," Beth acknowledged,
relenting a little, "and I seldom ever take cold. I'd have to watch the
rest of you to see that you were not careless."
"Oh, Beth," cried Peggy, assuming her own presence, "we'd fish through
the ice, and Leslie and I would do the cooking!"
Then Leslie and Sarita did laugh, for Peggy could not cook anything and
had confessed the fact before. "Well," Peggy continued, answering their
thought, "couldn't I _learn_?"
At this point Beth glanced at her wrist watch and asked if a short trip
in the Sea Crest would not be possible before lunch, in order to show
Mr. Tudor the bay and the rocks. "If we should be late, Dal will make
the hot coffee for the men. They bring their lunches, but we give them
something hot, and I have everything ready, beans all cooked and some
meat."
Everybody thought this a good plan, especially as they could take Peggy
home by launch and Jack, if he thought best. Otherwise, Jack could have
beans and coffee with Dalton. But Jack decided to go with them, for
Peggy privately informed him that she must consult him about something.
On the way to the boat, Beth exhibited the Eyrie to Mr. Tudor, while
Jack, Leslie, and the other girls went on down the rocks to get the
launch ready and start the engine. None of them were disappointed by any
lack of enthusiasm on the part of their guest, for though Evan Tudor was
not particularly voluble in his speech he gave the impression of not
missing any practical or inspirational detail in the comments which he
made.
After the start Mr. Tudor sat or stood with Beth, who pointed out the
sights, while Jack at the wheel listened to what the girls had to tell
him with Peggy as chief spokesman. He made little comment at first and
the impatient Peggy urged him, saying, "Well, Jack, why don't you go 'up
in the air' about it?"
"It is too serious, Peggy. I don't think that you know just how serious
it is. That fake English lord in the cave only proves what I have been
suspecting."
"_What_ have you been suspecting, Jack?"
"I'd rather not say, Peggy. Suppose we wait a little. I am thinking that
about the twenty-eighth we may find some others of the same sort, only
pretending to carry out the house party idea with your mother, and then
some that are very likely real titled exiles."
"But why would they do that? Why should this man hide away? Is he afraid
of somebody? And why should Dad let him hide there? Just what is it that
Dad is doing?"
"I am very much afraid, Peggy, that your step-father is helping these
people into the country against the law, and probably for a good price.
I hope that it is the Count who is doing it,--that is, I have been
hoping that, with Uncle's just letting him use the place and
entertaining as his guests only some people brought here in his yacht
that really have a right to be here. But I think now that the yacht is a
blind and that everybody will come in on the 'schooner.'"
"Oh!" Peggy began to understand more clearly. "Shall I tell Mother,
Jack?"
"No. I've got to find out _what_ to do."
But as it happened, neither Jack nor Peggy nor any of the Secrests
decided what was to be done; and it was better so.
The little cruise was delightful. Troubles seemed far away after they
gave themselves to the lure of the water and sky and the motion of the
boat. Even Peggy, who had at first been startled and distressed at
Jack's clear statements, seemed to forget and joked as usual with the
girls. Leslie was thoughtful, wondering what their duty was. It was not
pleasant to have such a problem presented to them.
Evan Tudor, who could run a launch quite well himself, was entirely
content to be a passenger, visiting with the pretty artist and
forgetting his quest in these parts, except to fix in mind the location
of Steeple Rocks and Pirates' Cove. He intended to go out in a row boat
to investigate that region.
Jack and Peggy were left at the dock in Ives Bay, while Leslie took the
wheel for the homeward trip. This they made quickly, landing in time for
Beth to superintend the hot lunch. Mr. Tudor was invited to partake, but
he thanked Beth and declined, saying that he had work to do and that his
late breakfast made a late lunch desirable.
For Leslie and Sarita it had been a full and surprising morning. After
lunch was over, with its work, they found a quiet place apart where they
could discuss the present dilemma.
CHAPTER XVII
PIRATES' COVE
Bill's men, out in the boats, reported to him at noon the short trip of
the Sea Crest and the passengers upon it. Bill accepted the report,
thinking that the "writin' feller," if he liked the girl who made
pictures and kept himself to his work and his visits with the Secrests,
was probably harmless so far as Bill's pursuits were concerned. He
dispatched Tom Carey with an excellent choice of fish, which he could
leave at the tent if the man had not returned. But Tom chose to wait for
Mr. Tudor.
"Hello, Tom," Evan Tudor called, as he approached his tent and saw Tom
stretched out on a rock by the stream. "Have you been waiting long? You
might have left the fish, but I'm glad that you did not. Anything to
report?"
This last was in a lower tone, after he had jumped across the stream by
its little stepping stones to the rock where Tom now stood.
"Yes, I have. Here are the fish."
"Good. Those are fine. Bill must think that I have an appetite, but then
I did not limit the quantity and the more delivered the better business
for Bill."
"Yes, sir," grinned Tom. "I didn't expect to have any news for you so
soon, but Bill is about sick to-day, having a chill or something. So he
wants me to take a boat, go to Pirates' Cove, row into the cave and
bring out a man."
"What?" Evan Tudor was a little puzzled. "I thought, from what I have
been told that it was not safe to go into the Cove at all. Miss Secrest
just spoke of it on a trip that they took me around the bay and through
the channel to Ives Bay."
"Yes, sir. I was there when a man told Bill about your being with them."
Tom and Evan Tudor exchanged glances.
"Miss Secrest told me quite a tale of disappearances and of the danger
where that opening occurs."
"Yes, sir; that is what is generally thought around here. But my
grandmother has always laughed to me about it, and she remembers the
time when people used to visit the pirates' cave."
"Then probably smugglers built up this tale for their own purposes."
Tom nodded assent. "I've told you how Bill wants to get me into all
this, and get some hold on me, you know. If you weren't here I'd never
do it in the world, but I've pretended to listen to what he says about
'making good money.' I don't know why he doesn't have someone else go,
unless it is dangerous and they will not do it, or there is some
smuggled stuff that he can't trust them with, or he just wants to get me
into it. I'm not afraid to go, and it is a good chance to find out."
"Don't risk anything on my account, Tom; but if you think it safe to go,
I shall be among those rocks somewhere with a boat. Call if you are in
any danger. I am a good swimmer."
Tom, rather glad that there would be help at hand if any were needed,
went away and Mr. Tudor examined his fish. Soon they were cooking over a
good fire, while a well satisfied young man watched them and made more
plans. This was a great opportunity. He would visit the cave after Tom
and the man had left. There was a possibility of there being others in
the cave, but he would risk that. It was not very likely. Perhaps Tom
could let him know in some way if there were, though no signal had been
agreed upon. Indeed, he must keep out of sight.
Evan Tudor did not know, of course, that he would not be the only
watcher that night. The only decision that the girls and Jack had been
able to make was that of immediate action in seeing Bill take out the
man whose voice the girls had heard through the "speaking tube." It
would never do to miss that. Leslie thought that perhaps Peggy would
want to give up their plan after hearing Jack's plain statements. But
the last thing that she said before the Sea Crest left her and Jack at
their dock was, "Now don't forget to-night!" Peggy still loved mystery.
More than once Peggy afterward remarked to Dalton, with whom she became
so very, very well acquainted, that it was funny how the different
people who were engaged that night in Pirates' Cove affairs had no
knowledge of each other. Bill's man escorted Tom part way, but did not
know about Tom's relation to Mr. Tudor. The pretended nobleman had no
idea how near discovery he was. The Ives-Secrest group knew nothing
about Mr. Tudor and he knew nothing of their interest or presence at
first.
Peggy and Jack decided that rather than steal out of the house late at
night it would be better to go out openly for a row to the Eyrie, early
in the evening. Peggy's mother would assume that they had returned, they
hoped, for Mrs. Ives was concerned about other things. Their plan was to
return with the girls and hide among the rocks in the channel, where
there was a view of the Cove. About the time the last boats were going
in they would quietly row out from the Eyrie. This plan was carried out.
It was about one o'clock when a boat came into the bay from the sea, and
after reaching quiet waters, edged around into the channel. Naturally
Leslie did not know that it was their own Swallow, borrowed from Beth
and Dalton by Mr. Tudor, though he had not come for it till long after
the first party had left the Eyrie. Sarita had gone to sleep, lulled by
the gentle rocking of their boat, for the wait seemed long. Her head was
on Leslie's shoulder, but she was startled awake when Peggy clutched
Leslie and whispered, "Oh, who is this? One of Bill's spies?"
"Sh-sh," Jack warned. But it would not be easy to see them among the
shadows of the rocks, and presently they saw the boat no longer as it
gently glided farther within the channel, and none too soon for its
occupant, for two more boats, rapidly rowed, approached the mouth of the
Cove. In one was Tom, who was given final orders and directions by the
man in the other boat.
Bay and Cove were comparatively calm. The night, too, was clear so far,
bright with stars and a late moon, a condition good for the watchers,
but not so favorable to any underhand project. The girls located the
dark opening into the cave and watched tensely.
The one boat waited at the rocks which marked the beginning of the Cove.
Tom's boat entered the Cove and went straight across to the mouth of the
cave, with only one exception, when Tom avoided a foaming, restless
stretch where some hidden rocks lurked like Scylla of old.
"Look! He's gone right on in," said Leslie, "without a bit of trouble!"
"Wait till you see if he ever comes out again," Sarita returned, for she
still more than half believed in the old story.
"If he does and they get away all right, let's go in, too," Peggy
suggested, a wild desire to see the inside of that cave taking
possession of her. They could take the same course. That boat had kept
steady, unharmed, not tossed about by any current or whirlpool.
"It would be safe enough," said Jack, looking at his watch, "if we can
do it before the tide comes up much. It is not quite low tide now. I
looked up the tides before we came out. It will be easier to get in at
low tide, though we may have to watch for rocks more. Make up your minds
what you want to do, girls."
"If it were a question of _wanting_," said Leslie, "I'd say go at once,
but I'm not sure it would be very safe. What do you think, Sarita?"
But Sarita did not answer, for at that moment Tom's boat shot out from
the dark, spray-washed entrance. All had seen the flash of light,
presumably from Tom's flashlight, as he took his bearings before
starting out of the cave. Two figures were in the boat this time. Over
the legend-cursed waters of Pirates' Cove Tom's boat sped, faster than
when it was attempting an unknown course. Again they saw him avoid the
one tempestuous spot. Again they saw him reach the rocks and the buoy
where the other boat waited.
The watchers did not hear, however, the rough jeer with which the man
who rowed the accompanying boat greeted Tom. "So Bill's got ye at last,
has he? Ye'll work fer him now or yer life won't be safe. That's yer
'nishiation, did ye know it?"
Tom was spared an answer by the rough order of the man whom he had
brought from the cave. It was to the effect that this was his trip and
that he wanted to get to land as quickly as possible. So did Tom.
The two boats bobbed over the waves and out of the bay to some mooring
at the village. The boat load of young people watched, still keeping in
the shadow of the rocks and discussing in low tones the likelihood of
their being still watched, if at all, by the other boat which had come
into the channel.
Then they heard the soft plash of oars. Startled, Jack braced himself
for possible trouble and Peggy clutched Leslie again. The boat passed
them, its occupant leaning to look in their direction. Then it shot back
and a voice addressed them. "Why, it's the Eyrie crowd, isn't it?"
What a relief! It was only Mr. Tudor!
"My, how you scared us, Mr. Tudor!" cried Peggy. "How did you happen to
get out here? Did you see that boat come out of the Cove?"
"Yes. It would seem that the old story is not true, yet I heard Miss
Secrest tell it only to-day."
"We're going over. Don't you want to go with us?"
"Peggy!" Leslie exclaimed. "Have we decided to go?"
"I have, unless you really hate to go."
"We're crazy to see it," said Sarita.
Mr. Tudor was inwardly amused at the turn of events. Again they were in
his favor. "If you think that it will not be a trespass, Miss Peggy, I
should like to go with you. It seems safe to me. Suppose you let me go
first, however. I noted the boatman's course, and we shall avoid the
same rocks that took him aside."
"Good!" cried Peggy. "Have you a light? We brought some."
"Yes. I have a large flashlight."
It seemed like a dream,--the late night, the restless waters, the
mystery of the Cove, the yawning entrance of the cave. The Ives boat
followed exactly the trail of the Swallow, which the girls now
recognized. Now they passed the boiling surf. "Between Scylla and
Charybdis," quoted Leslie to Sarita, and Peggy, who did not know what
she meant, decided to look that up.
Bowing his head, Mr. Tudor pulled upon his oars, and his boat
disappeared into the yawning maw of the cavern. Jack was wondering if it
were safe to follow immediately, but he heard a call, "Come on," and the
entrance was illuminated by the light which Mr. Tudor carried and which
he flashed upon the churning waters in the center of the opening. Down
went the heads,--a breathless moment! Now!
The Secrest-Ives combination were within the pirate cave! Looking about
by the steady light which Mr. Tudor held for them, they saw his boat
drawn aside a little and near a floating dock, as it might be called, a
mere plank tightly fastened to posts at the very edge of a worn rocky
ledge, the floor of the cave. Waters stretched to the right and left of
them. Above, the roof of the cave was low at the entrance, but lifted to
a high vault farther in. "Snug place," said Leslie, turning her own
flashlight from side to side.
Mr. Tudor examined the landing, made it firm by some quick manipulation,
and leaped out of his boat, which he had fastened. "Want to get out?" he
inquired, leaning toward the passengers of Jack's boat, which now
occupied the other side of the landing space. He held his hand to the
girls, while Jack kept the boat steady. "Let us keep together,"
suggested Mr. Tudor. Having the largest light, he naturally took the
lead.
They found it a large cave, quite evidently often and recently used.
Nature had been assisted in making it a safe storage for either goods or
persons, for they found more than one room, with steps cut in uneven
places, and a long passage leading somewhere. They did not follow that
very far, for Mr. Tudor suggested that it would not be best to stay long
"this time" on account of the tide. There were cots standing on end, and
one which had been left with bedding on it.
Peggy shuddered. "Think of sleeping with such damp bedding!" she said.
"This room seems fairly dry, though," said Leslie, "and I feel quite a
breeze from somewhere."
"Oh, it must be the place where the men were when we heard them
talking!" Peggy exclaimed. She and Leslie searched the wall and ceiling
and found a crack which they decided to be the opening to the "speaking
tube," for the immediate surroundings were like a wide funnel.
A pile of old and foreign-looking clothing in one corner gave Mr. Tudor
good evidence of what he was seeking. There was a portable stove all
greasy and rusty, with a cask which they thought contained gasoline. A
wooden door boarded up one opening off from the passage but it was
locked. As there was a narrow opening across the top of the ill-fitting
door, Mr. Tudor suggested to Jack that he climb up to see what was
inside. "Stand on my shoulders," he said.
Jack helped himself first by the edge of a thick board in the door,
which had been made by nailing horizontal planks across a frame. Partly
lifted or supported by Mr. Tudor, Jack clung to the top of the door,
with one foot on Mr. Tudor's shoulder, and looked over. "Case after
case, and a lot of loose bottles of liquor," he reported.
"Bill's activities include more than one line of smuggling," Mr. Tudor
replied, as Jack dropped to the floor again.
"My muddy feet will not help your coat any," said Jack.
"It will dry and brush off. We have not found any pirate treasure for
the girls yet," he continued. "Perhaps there is a safe somewhere with
the pirate jewels; but we must hurry. I want to see the front space
again. Come, please."
The party went back into the front of the cave, while Mr. Tudor and Jack
searched the wall on the side toward the Ives' little bay and dock.
There, indeed, in a little recess, were some steps, the same sort of
rocky steps, where the hand of man had assisted nature. At the top there
was another door, locked. But this time Mr. Tudor drew a key from his
pocket which unlocked it. A breeze blew in, fresh and sweet and cool.
Carefully lighting his steps before him Mr. Tudor stepped outside, then
made room for the rest.
They found themselves on a rocky ledge, rather narrow and walled in by
rock. Mr. Tudor rounded a corner carefully, looked and came back. "Very
clever," said he. "This door is concealed by the mass of rock, and when
you turn that corner, there you are in a narrow opening between rocks
that looks just like a hundred others. Look, but be careful not to step
off the edge."
Each followed directions and looked. "A long plank would reach over to
our steps," said Peggy. "I've often wondered why that wide, long board
was laid along the side of the steps. There is a sort of fastening
there, too. I asked Mother about it once and she said she supposed it
was there to strengthen the stairway. I wonder why they go in and out by
boat when that is there."
"Perhaps," said Jack, "there is more danger of discovery, or maybe it is
not as safe a way."
"That is what became of the Count that time. I was not far enough down,
or not smart enough to see it."
Mr. Tudor looked inquiringly at Peggy. "Count Herschfeld?" he asked.
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"I know of him."
They were now back within the cave and Mr. Tudor locked the door again.
"A place like this develops," said he. "It is not planned from the
first. It has probably been the resort of smugglers from early times."
"But we'd better hurry away while the tide is low. There is a plank to
be found inside, if you girls would prefer to cross to the steps. I am
sure that I saw one somewhere."
"No walking the plank for me _yet_," said Peggy. "Are you going to tell
on Bill yet, Mr. Tudor?" From what he had said, Peggy knew that he must
know about Bill. What else did he know? But she would not be the one to
tell about her step-father.
"What do you think we ought to do about it, Miss Peggy?" Mr. Tudor
countered.
"I suppose we can't let smuggling go on."
"No," soberly Evan Tudor replied. "It will have to be broken up
sometime. Probably we should have a little more proof about Bill and his
friends."
"Oh, yes," eagerly Peggy replied.
"Poor child," Evan Tudor was thinking.
Safely they all went through the spray. Mr. Tudor went first, then
turned his light upon the place for Jack's exit. To their surprise they
found it foggy and by the time they reached Ives Bay and the dock there
the fog was rolling in so thickly that it was decided to leave the
Swallow among the Ives boats till the next day. Evan Tudor and the girls
would walk home.
Jack was distressed about this and wanted to accompany them, but Peggy
insisted that it would be foolish and the rest agreed. "The more quickly
and quietly we get into the house the better, Jack," said Peggy, "and no
one will notice the Swallow, Mr. Tudor. We do all sorts of crazy things
going back and forth, and Jack and I might easily have rowed home in the
Swallow, or all of us landed here and gone on some hike or other."
Tired as the girls were, they managed to give a full and clear account
of their suspicions and discoveries to Mr. Tudor on the way home. It was
a comfort to pass over some of the responsibility to him, though he did
not tell them that this smuggling of aliens was the subject of his
quest, nor that he represented the law and the United States government.
The other smuggling would naturally be attended to at the same time, but
it was desired to find the heads of a ring having operations at
different points.
"We have been so troubled, Mr. Tudor, about our duty, how to notify the
right authorities, or whether to do so or not, with Peggy and her family
to consider,--though I suppose that it is wrong to be hindered by that."
So Leslie told the man who represented the right authority.
"It would be a hard thing for you to take up without more proof, Miss
Leslie. Suppose you just do nothing but keep your eyes open and tell me
about it. I will watch, too. Did you say that a schooner was expected
about the twenty-eighth?"
"Yes, sir."
"I will talk it over with your brother and Miss Beth. Good-night; do not
worry about this."
CHAPTER XVIII
THE NET IS SPREAD
The girls found Elizabeth up and greatly worried. She had gone to bed
and fallen asleep, she said, waking at midnight to find that they had
not come in. "If Dalton had not needed his sleep so much, I would have
wakened him," she said.
Again the sleepy girls told the story, gathering up the details in the
process and filling in what Beth did not know. "But we have passed the
responsibility over to Mr. Tudor, Beth. He thinks that more proof is
necessary, too. We've found out more than enough for poor little Peggy,
though she is the stoutest little piece you ever saw. One thing, she
does not like her step-father, or trust him, and she sees that he makes
Mrs. Ives miserable. Mr. Tudor asked if she would be likely to warn her
step-father and of course, we could not know. So far she has not said
anything to her mother."
"Do you suppose that Mr. Tudor will do anything?" asked Beth, very much
interested.
"I don't know. He said that he would talk to Dalton and to you. I'd say
wait till they get here, anyhow. We surely are going to watch for that
schooner, Beth,--but not to-night!"
On the very next day another young man arrived at Evan Tudor's camp.
Largely for Bill's benefit, a heavy package marked manuscript was mailed
by Mr. Tudor from the village post office. When Tom arrived that day
with the regular supply of fish, he was told that he might make his
report in the presence of the other young man. He did so, showing some
money that Bill had paid him for the trip, a sum which Tom had inwardly
hesitated to take, feeling like a traitor. He spoke of his feeling in
the matter, but Mr. Tudor assured him that he must seem to be a part of
the smuggler group. "You may even have to be arrested with the rest,
though if there is any resisting, get out of range! Can you meet that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Our people will be instructed about you, and you have only to tell who
you are. I'm not anticipating any war. Things are coming to a climax
now. Have you any information about the schooner that is bringing in the
immigrants?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Ives is out with the yacht now. He is expecting to take
them off the schooner some distance out, but the yacht has trouble with
the engine and they may have to dock her. In that case they'll bring
what Bill calls the big bugs to the yacht, by the launch, of course, and
take the rest into the cave till they can get them 'distributed.' That
is what Mr. Ives calls it. I saw him. He came in to Bill's on the
launch, about ten o'clock last night."
Mr. Tudor had also seen him, but he did not mention the fact to Tom.
"Does Mr. Ives know that you are in this with Bill?"
"Yes, sir. He asked me questions and gave me a ten dollar bill. I feel
like a Judas."
"Remember what he is and you will not feel so. You can give the money
back later, if you like."
The more puzzling part of this matter to Mr. Tudor was to make no
mistake about having the government officers and men on hand at the
right time. With careful scouts out on land and sea to guard against
surprise when the schooner actually arrived, Mr. Ives and Bill would be
thoroughly informed about any suspicious movements. But an innocent
looking hunting and fishing party had just arrived at a camp a few miles
away, and a few miles down the coast a small passenger vessel had put
in, apparently for repairs. A regular coast guard steamer had passed as
well and had duly been reported to Bill and Mr. Ives, who were feeling
none too easy about this next cargo of aliens to be smuggled in. But
thousands of dollars were already in their pockets and they expected to
make as much again.
Patriotism? Bill had been smuggled in himself years before, and Mr. Ives
often told his wife that he owed nothing to Uncle Sam or the flag. He
was a brilliant scoundrel, thoroughly selfish and of the type that
enjoys intrigue and power. The Count had been embittered by the results
of the world war and was glad to do what he could against the country
and its laws. Some of the alien immigrants themselves were to be pitied,
though they were lending themselves to this scheme. Many of them were
caught in some unhappy circumstances at home and cared nothing for
governments, only for a refuge.
Others were of the dangerous class of communists that were willing to
pay and pay heavily for the chance to spread their doctrines in a
country that wanted none of them. Then there were the ignorant ones, of
"low degree," who believed almost anything that they were told of the
chances in America. They were to be largely Bill's prey, robbed of their
savings and forced to work for him if he chose. That was the "fine
opportunity" waiting for them in America!
The new man with Mr. Tudor carried the messages now, at night, for it
was no longer best to telegraph from the nearest town. After the sending
of the manuscript, the two men now spent long hours in fishing or in
tramping about after the manner of tourists. They took notes in
prominent places, to carry out the idea of their profession, and,
indeed, both of them were correspondents for certain papers. Mr. Tudor
told Beth that his "best seller" could more easily be a detective story
than anything else.
Dalton was admitted to councils now, but he was more anxious to get on
with the house than to do any detective work. The chief benefit to him
was the knowledge that someone else was watching Bill and Mr. Ives. His
family was safe without his being on guard any longer. Like magic,
Leslie said, the house went up and it was decided to finish it within
and without for cold weather. They would at least have what Sarita
called a "proper home" and if they wanted to stay through part of the
cold weather they could.
At night watch was kept in the Eyrie, as they had planned, for now it
was but a short time till the schooner was due. On the twenty-sixth the
Ives yacht came into the bay and men were sent for to fix some part of
the machinery. Mr. Ives, "cross as two sticks," according to Peggy,
appeared at his home and had long consultations with the Count. At other
times he could be heard pacing up and down in his office. "He has
something on hand that worries him terribly, Peggy," Mrs. Ives told her
daughter, "and just at the time of the house party, too! He says that
perhaps the yacht will not be ready in time to go for them, but that if
it isn't he will get them here some other way."
Peggy did not confide this to the other girls. She had stopped talking
about the matter. It was not fun any more. They missed her at the Eyrie,
for while Jack came as usual, still interested in the house and Dalton,
and still wanting to confide in Leslie the matters of the Steeple Rocks
mystery, now a mystery no longer, Peggy tried to seem interested in her
clothes and the plans for the house party. Would it come off? Would Mr.
Tudor tell? He didn't talk as if he would right away. What ought she to
do about telling her mother?
Peggy's mind was somewhat in confusion. The servants were quiet,
inclined to watch Peggy, she imagined. It would have been hard to find
opportunity for the secret talk with her mother which she rather longed
for sometimes. She and Jack did not attempt to discuss the matter and
Mr. Ives asked Jack to drop his "carpenter work" at the Eyrie. Once,
while they were playing tennis, Jack muttered to Peggy, "No use, can't
do a thing now, Peggy. We'll just wait."
A very pleasant thing happened at the Secrest camp in the shape of a
surprise for Sarita. Through Mr. Tudor, Tom Carey sent her a package in
which was her lost glass. Tom had recovered it that very night after it
had fallen into the water, by swimming from his boat and diving where it
seemed safe. The glass had lodged upon a rock not far from the surface,
he discovered, and while its appearance was spoiled, the lenses were not
broken.
Keeping the recovery a secret from Bill, Tom had made a trip to town and
had the field glass put in shape again, with new covering. A little note
explained the facts and Sarita was quite overcome, almost sorry that Tom
had gone to the expense but admiring his spirit. "Oh, the poor boy!" she
exclaimed.
"He paid for it with Bill's money, though," said the smiling Mr. Tudor,
in whose presence Sarita had opened the package, "and as he is making a
little more than usual, you need not worry about Tom. I will explain in
a few days, Miss Sarita. It comes just in time for good service."
Meanwhile the net was being drawn more tightly. It was desired to take
the Count and Mr. Ives after their connection with the smuggling was
further proved by the presence of the aliens illegitimately brought in
in the Ives home or upon the Ives yacht. On land and by sea the arrival
of the schooner was awaited.
CHAPTER XIX
SAILS ON THE HORIZON
On the night of the twenty-seventh, Leslie Secrest and Sarita Moore were
sitting in the Sea Crest to talk. Gently the boat rocked a little in the
lapping water of their little cove. Beth and Dalton were above in the
Eyrie, where they had a spyglass, not one belonging to Peggy, but one
which Dalton had procured. "It would be a fine thing, wouldn't it," he
asked, "to hunt down Peggy's step-father with a glass that he will
probably pay for?"
Idly Leslie dipped her hand in the water. "Let's go over after Peggy,"
Sarita suggested. "Lots of boats are out yet, and the sunset isn't over.
See what entrancing shades there are. Beth is probably copying those
over there in the east. Too bad the sun itself isn't in that direction!"
Without a word, Leslie sprang into action. "I see a few twinkles of
stars coming out, but it isn't too late," she said. They were soon out
upon the bay, Sarita waving a farewell to Beth, who had walked out upon
the rocks. Before they had gone far toward the channel, by which they
would reach Peggy's, to their surprise, the Ives yacht gave forth a deep
and sonorous sound.
"Listen to Peggy's yacht tooting!" cried Sarita. "Look out, Les. Let's
keep out of the way."
The yacht, indeed, was moving out; but as there was but one straight
course for it out of the bay, Leslie was not concerned. She drove the
Sea Crest in another direction, and circled around, as they often did.
To their surprise again, there was Peggy herself, waving from the deck.
Leslie chose to follow in the wake of the yacht, which drew farther and
farther away from them, and finally turned north along the coast,
disappearing from view. It had not been Leslie's intention, to be sure,
to go out into the open sea very far, but she saw Mr. Tudor and his
friend in another launch no bigger than the Sea Crest and she found the
sea very little rougher than the bay. "It will be fairly light for more
than an hour, Sarita, let's stay out a while."
Sarita was willing, and they turned the little Sea Crest toward the open
sea and sped on. Suddenly, upon the horizon, a lovely sight greeted
their eyes. There hung a large schooner as if suspended from the clouds.
It was in full sail, the last pink and lavender of the sunset imparting
a tinge of color to the swelling sails.
"How lovely!" exclaimed Leslie. "Is it a fishing schooner, or _the_
schooner, I wonder?"
"It might be either, or both," laughed Sarita. "How odd! It's simply
fading from view! See, it's turned, too."
The girls watched the schooner till they could see it no more. Then
Leslie turned the launch and ran straight for the bay. "Do you suppose
that it _is_ the schooner and that the yacht has gone to meet it now?
They certainly would not take Peggy and Mrs. Ives, would they? How
terrible it would be if they were boarded out there and Peggy would be
in the midst of it!"
But as they came on, they saw Mrs. Ives and Peggy in a launch run by no
less a personage than Bill himself. Peggy said something to Bill, who
ran the launch within speaking distance while she called, "Engine
stopped and we had to signal for help. Dad and the Count may have to
stay there all night!" Peggy's face was bright. There was much else that
she wanted to tell the girls, but Bill wouldn't want to wait, she knew.
After nodding brightly to Peggy, Leslie and Sarita looked at each other.
"Camouflage," said Leslie "They meant to send them back all the time.
Their engine is all right and that's the schooner! Bill will go out with
the launch, of course, taking the plumber!"
"Plumber!" laughed Sarita.
"Well, isn't that whom you send for when anything is out of fix?"
Quick-witted Leslie's imagination was right, as it happened. Sending on
her boat at full speed, she felt very much relieved to think that Peggy
would be safely at home. "I'd pay five cents," she added, "to know if
Mr. Tudor is taking this in."
As that was Mr. Tudor's chief business at this time, he was not ignorant
of all the moves. Like Leslie, however, he was going in to shore. The
schooner would be taken care of at the proper time by others. He knew
who was on the yacht and where it lay. He was not so impatient as the
girls, for he knew what it all involved. The denouement might be
dramatic. He hoped that it would be neither dangerous nor fatal to
anyone. No move at all was to be made until the alien passengers were
transferred from the schooner. Bill's scouts were then to be quietly
seized, in order that no signal might be given the yacht, though even
then the chase upon the open sea would probably be successful. Tom Carey
was of great help in learning who these scouts were.
Again that night, like a wraith from the sea, the schooner was seen.
Leslie in the Eyrie, where poor Dalton was trying to keep awake after
his day of physical labor, found it with the spy-glass and exclaimed.
The rest sprang up to look, and while they still tried to distinguish
the vessel, whose lights had apparently been extinguished, there was a
knock at the door. "It's Tudor," spoke a voice.
"Come right in." Dalton hastened to open the door for Mr. Tudor, who was
not quite as calm as usual.
"Good evening, friends. Have you seen the schooner?"
"We have just been looking at it," said Beth, offering the glass to
Evan, who looked for some time.
"It is flying here and there, like a bird trying to reach its nest and
avoid the owl that is watching. Ostensibly it has fishing grounds in the
vicinity. Perhaps it was a mistake to have our boat pass again, but it
is not investigating. The Ives yacht is lying off the coast with some
broken machinery, they say. Bill has just brought off the Count and Mr.
Ives.
"It will probably be to-morrow night when the schooner unloads. Our boat
is leaving just a little before dawn, to assure them that they are not
to be searched, and also to prevent their unloading to-night. I believe
that our ship is to hail the schooner, appear to be satisfied with
inquiry and steam away. Our boat is not very large,--but there is
another, not too far out at sea.
"Circumstances often determine what it is best to do. I thought that you
would like to know what is going on. I am going to take a sleep now, my
friend on guard. If I were you, I should sleep, too."
After this explanation, Mr. Tudor took his leave. The rather serious
Secrest group decided to take his advice. The girls were soon asleep in
the Eyrie with their door barred, though Leslie wakened before daylight
to lie and think about Peggy.
Peggy herself had many thoughts on the morning of the twenty-eighth. She
did not know that the schooner had arrived, but that was the date of the
house party. Mr. Ives was still nervous but in better poise, giving
orders in regard to certain provisions for the guests. Mrs. Ives was
mistress of herself and the situation, for her house was ready, the
menus made out with the housekeeper.
Never had Peggy had such a problem to face. She could not bring herself
to inform authority against her step-father, and in her indecision she
was ready to see who came, what sort of people they were and whether it
were really Mr. Ives who was the real smuggler or not. Perhaps he could
be persuaded to give it all up, she thought. Mr. Tudor's knowing worried
her. She now felt persuaded that he had been investigating, though she
hoped that she was only imagining it.
It was out of Peggy's hands, however. If the girls had never started to
find a mystery out for themselves, the result would have been the same.
Before midnight men were hidden in the pirates' cave, for Tom had
fortunately been appointed watch there. Whether tide and hour would
permit entrance by water or by plank and the door, they were ready. Tom
Carey could tell them little this time, for plans were known only to
Bill. The rest followed his orders.
One government boat was to take the yacht, another was to follow the
schooner, and lest slippery Bill should escape in the launch, provision
was made for that. It was hoped that the entire number of aliens, high
and low, might be transferred to the yacht first because of its size. No
interference was to be made until after that occurred. Mr. Tudor told
Elizabeth that the smugglers were doubtless hoping for fog to conceal
their activities.
The first excitement at the Eyrie occurred about ten o'clock that night,
when Dalton, uneasy, sauntered down to their cove and discovered the Sea
Crest foundered, not in very deep water to be sure, but it was an
unwelcome calamity. The Swallow was floating, but Dalton examined it to
find that someone had begun to cut a hole in it. "My coming probably
frightened the man away," Dalton reported at the Eyrie. "They do not
want the Sea Crest abroad to-night."
It did grow somewhat foggy, though not enough so to annoy what boats
were out upon the bay. Long since the "engine trouble" of the yacht had
been overcome and it had steamed away, up the coast and out of sight.
Now, shortly after midnight it appeared, regardless of who might see it,
well lighted, its pennants waving in honor of distinguished guests. It
approached the bay, at full speed and cutting the waves valiantly.
CHAPTER XX
CAPTURE
Peggy and Jack, at Steeple Rocks, had gone to watch for the yacht at the
tops of the steps which ran down to the dock where the yacht was
expected. At the sight of it, Jack waited, but Peggy hurried in to
announce the arrival. Mrs. Ives and Madame Kravetz were sitting in the
drawing room, while Timmons, the butler, was in the hall.
"The yacht is coming," said Peggy in her clear voice, "all lit up and
everything. It just passed another vessel that was going along and it's
coming into the bay! Shall I tell Jack to light the lights outside?"
"Timmons will do it. Timmons, rouse the maids if they are drowsy." But
Mrs. Ives wondered at the alarmed expression on the face of the butler,
and that Madame Kravetz went outside immediately. Mr. Ives and the Count
had gone out to the yacht in the morning, ostensibly to go to the port
where he was to meet his guests. Some train must have been late to delay
them this long, or perhaps the engines had not worked properly. It was
all decidedly queer. She looked at Peggy.
"What's the matter with 'em?" bluntly asked Peggy.
"I am sure I do not know, unless Timmons is excited for fear things may
not go as they should."
The bay was a trap. No sooner had the yacht gotten well into it than the
passing vessel, manned by government men to catch both aliens and
smugglers, turned about and rapidly sought the mouth of the bay. The
pursuit was short, as Mr. Ives and Count Herschfeld, on board the yacht
knew it must be. Hastily the word was passed around among the more
important passengers, who were panic-stricken, facing deportation,
having many jewels which they were smuggling in.
Smaller boats also gathered around the yacht, but it reached the dock,
though boarded at once. It attempted no useless defense, for it was
immediately seen that a concerted plan on the part of the government
forces made them too strong for the smugglers.
How Mr. Ives got away, no one knew. He was not seen upon the rocks, but
someone saw him take off his coat and leap into the water, though it was
thought at the time that he was at once picked up by one of the boats.
The approaches to the house were all guarded, it was supposed, but a
secret entrance from the cliff, which the girls had not discovered,
admitted Mr. Ives to a rocky chamber behind his office.
Peggy, sitting in the drawing room with her mother, heard the door to
the library and office open behind her. Mr. Ives, a wild figure,
appeared. Water was dripping from him. He was drawing on a dry coat as
he entered and stuffing its pockets with money from his safe.
"Get the car quickly, Kit! They're after me! Call Timmons! Peggy, run up
and get my overcoat and all the clothes that you can lay your hands on!"
Mrs. Ives in her pretty evening dress ran outside, followed by her
husband, while Peggy instinctively started after the overcoat and
clothes. But she met Timmons on the stairs, a hurrying Timmons, dressed
for departure, carrying her step-father's top-coat and two suit-cases.
Her assistance was not necessary. Timmons must have seen the capture at
which Peggy guessed. She stood aside to let him pass, but followed
rapidly herself.
At the foot of the stairs Peggy and Madame Kravetz nearly collided. The
governess was rushing out from the dining room with what appeared to be
a sack of food, a brown paper sack carried by the particular, elegant
Kravetz! She picked up a suitcase in the hall and dashed out of the
front door.
Peggy heard the sound of the car and immediately thought of her mother,
outside in the chill air with only that thin dress to protect her.
Perhaps her husband would make her go with him! Luckily Peggy had
wrapped herself in her mother's coat when she had gone with Jack to look
for the yacht. There lay the pretty silk-lined evening wrap with its
warm fur collar. Peggy snatched it up from the hall seat and rushed out
as wildly as any of the fleeing conspirators had done. It was only a
moment after Madame Kravetz had passed her, before Peggy was at the side
of the car with her mother's wrap.
She tossed it in, hearing Mr. Ives say, "Very well, ride a short
distance with us, Kitty. You have been a good wife,--" But the car
started to speed, Peggy knew, over the terrible roads till they reached
the good highway and what hiding place Peggy could not imagine. But
while she stood there, watching the darkness into which the car had
taken her mother and scarcely seeing the stupefied maids that gathered
around her, Mr. Tudor, breathless and much chagrined over the escape of
Mr. Ives, came hurrying around the house from the dock. Unfortunately
for plans, guards around the house had all rushed to prevent escape at
the yacht.
"Where is your mother, Miss Peggy?" he asked. "Is your father inside? It
will be better for him quietly to surrender."
"Don't ask me anything, please," said Peggy, suddenly feeling utterly
alone. But her maid, the beloved "Pugsy," who had avoided being sent
away after all, came with alarmed face from the house just then and went
to Peggy, who collapsed upon her shoulder in a storm of sobs.
"I am very sorry, Miss Peggy,--_believe_ me, I am," Mr. Tudor stopped to
say, though he had one eye on two officers who were entering the house.
"I know it," sobbed Peggy, "but do go away now, and find out things for
yourself!"
Jack, who had been down at the yacht, joined the maid in soothing Peggy
and between them they persuaded her to go to bed, promising to let her
know when her mother came back.
Mrs. Ives was one of the women who believe that vows for better or worse
should be kept. Had her husband desired her to accompany him, she would
have done so, though it took her into danger and unhappiness. His wet
hands drew the cloak around her, as he outlined briefly what had
happened. Amazed, in spite of previous suspicions, she listened, while
the ear jolted them from side to side. They were all in great suspense.
It was a terrific dash for freedom, but at last they reached a good
highway where they went on for some miles, turning off finally upon one
short, bad stretch to a small village. There Mr. Ives said that he had
kept horses for some time, using them in "his business" as he needed
them.
"Go back with the car," he directed, "stopping somewhere for something
to eat, if any place is open. We shall be aboard a ship after a short
ride with the horses. I will get word to you, from abroad, probably, in
some way. I have plenty of money now."
Mrs. Ives knew that scouting parties would be out in every direction as
soon as it was known from the servants how Mr. Ives made his escape.
Accordingly, she quickly took the car to the main highway and drove
slowly homeward, faint and worn, and in no mood for questions. But
unlike tempestuous Peggy, she responded courteously when she was
stopped. Yes, she had accompanied Mr. Ives part way. They could scarcely
expect her to help them, could they? She knew very well that trains
would be examined, the woods searched and the coast followed. As it was,
her husband was foolishly expectant of escape, she thought.
But Mr. Ives was clever enough to elude them, it happened. The Count had
been taken, on the yacht. He was the real organizer of the ring. Bill
Ritter, trying to escape, had been arrested and through Tom Carey's
information, all his chief assistants in this work were gathered in. The
village was in a turmoil, for some of the people there were due to be
deported. Through Evan Tudor, however, the work of investigation was
carried on in a way as little distressing to these poor victims of
others' greed as was possible. Tom Carey set to work to organize again
the fishing industry, filling orders and carrying on the shipping.
Through Jack, Mrs. Ives sent for Mr. Tudor, who was still in his camp,
in the intervals of these affairs in which he was concerned. He came to
Steeple Rocks rather uncertain of his reception, but Mrs. Ives, sober
and depressed, made no reference to his part in the disclosures.
"I have heard of you from Peggy, Mr. Tudor," she said, "and I want to
consult you as representing the government interests. Your report will
probably be accepted, will it not?"
Mr. Tudor, relieved, bowed. "Yes, Mrs. Ives."
"I want it understood that whatever in the way of restitution is to be
done, I will do. I am sorry that I could do nothing for those poor
foreigners that were hurried right away. Whether Mr. Ives is ever found
or not, I should prefer to have everything made clear and to be free
from obligation. So I have made out a list of our property, not
including, of course, the small estate which is Peggy's from her own
father. My husband told me that the liquor in the cave was Bill
Ritter's, though I suppose that my husband was partly responsible for
letting it be housed upon our property.
"I want to show you the safe and what I found in it, some bonds, cash
and important papers. Now will you act for me?"
"I will be glad to do so, though I am not a lawyer."
"You will be more a witness, I should think. I am dismissing most of the
servants; indeed, some of them left because they were afraid of being
arrested as aliens. Steeple Rocks will be for sale. I have not found any
smuggled jewels, and I scarcely think that my husband ever was concerned
in that."
"The whole place was thoroughly searched, Mrs. Ives, before your return.
After the steamer took charge of the aliens, the force searched yacht
and house at once."
Mrs. Ives sadly shook her head. "It is a tragedy to me, but if only the
shadow does not rest on Peggy, I can bear it."
"Nothing of all this attaches to you, Mrs. Ives, and I have seen to it
that a very general account so far has been published by the papers. My
friend and I so promptly sent in our reports that they are the ones
given. I will send you some of the papers."
"Thank you. It is a relief to know that all the details are not spread
broadcast."
Following this conference with Mr. Tudor, Mrs. Ives and Peggy quietly
went about Steeple Rocks making ready to close it early, for Mrs. Ives
felt that she must get away from the place. Peggy, on the other hand,
wanted to stay and asked her mother if she might not stay at the Eyrie.
"Will they want you after this?"
"I don't see why not. I belong to the 'trium-feminate', you know. Sarita
likes me for taking an interest in birds, and Dalton saved my life. I
know that _he_ likes me. Leslie is just like Dalton and Elizabeth is
_always_ sweet to me. Dal would like to stay all winter and keep Beth
from teaching. Why, Mother, why couldn't she tutor me? They might like a
boarder that would pay and work, too, and it wouldn't be as expensive
for you, I'm sure. Think of traveling expenses and boarding, especially
if we have to give nearly everything we have to the government!"
Mrs. Ives smiled. "It is not quite as bad as that, Peggy, but we shall
see."
"I'm going right over now!" declared Peggy.
This is how it came about that after a quiet summer, without the
expected visit from the Lyon-Marsh party, but with cruises and hikes and
picnics, Peggy Ives was still with the Secrests. She was called by her
own name, Peggy or Marguerite Nave, though the girls occasionally called
her Angelina for fun and Dal said that he was "always sure an angel
descended when she leaped out of the air into the blackberry bushes."
Beth had consented to tutor Peggy and take care of her as long as it
seemed best for her to stay at the Eyrie, "and that may be all winter,"
Peggy confided to Dalton, who nodded assent.
Jack tried in vain to persuade Dalton to go to college with him, but
Dalton could not be persuaded. "No, Jack," he said at their final talk.
"You go to college, and Leslie and I may both come year after next. But
I want to finish this home, and keep Beth out of school this year if
possible. The way it looks now, she never will go back. It will be nip
and tuck between Jim Lyon and this Evan Tudor, I think, though Jim seems
to be losing out at present. I think that Beth is the heroine in that
best seller that Mr. Tudor is always joking about."
Jack nodded. "All right, Dal. I don't blame you for wanting to fix up
this place. And if you bring Leslie to my college year after next,--it
will be worth waiting for."
By fall the quaint new home was ready for cold weather. Plans had grown,
with their interest, till now it included the living room with its big
fireplace, two bedrooms and a tiny kitchen, though that would not be
used much when it grew cold. Dalton was full of plans for plumbing and
electricity and a still larger house, but Beth, while she never threw
cold water on the projects, was quite content to regard this as a happy
interlude and a summer home. There were more school days for Dalton and
Leslie, and as for her,--she had just received a letter from Mrs. Ives
which informed her that the father of Evan Tudor wanted to buy Steeple
Rocks! Simply, too, Mrs. Ives wrote that she was now a widow and that
the long strain of anxiety about her husband's always impending capture
was over.
On Christmas Eve, Peggy and Dalton were decorating the large room with
spruce boughs and some holly wreaths and mistletoe sent by Mrs. Ives.
The most perfect little Christmas tree that the Secrest woods could
furnish stood in front of the window, ready to be lit up for the world
to see, though that world might consist only of a few village children
in whose welfare Beth and the rest were interested.
Leslie sat in front of the fireplace stringing the last bit of corn out
of the popper for festoons upon the tree. Beth was finishing little net
stockings for nuts and candy. "We _must_ stop for some supper,
children," she was saying.
"Oh, never mind about supper; there's too much to do." Peggy gave Dalton
a mischievous glance as she spoke.
"Never," he promptly replied. "Didn't I bring home the bacon myself?"
"Yes, you did," answered Leslie, emptying the corn popper and rising
from the floor. "I'll cook that rabbit myself. I can watch it while we
finish up. What more is there to do, Beth?"
"Not so much. Anita's doll has to have a sash, Sonia's a cap and Josef's
drum needs hanging on the tree. If you will get the supper, I will
finish, Leslie. The baskets of food for them need a little more
arranging. Peggy and Dal may drape the popcorn on the tree, if they
will."
Something was already bubbling in an old-fashioned iron pot in the
fireplace; but it was the same old reliable and speedy "portable" which
Leslie used to cook the rabbit. Behind a tall screen in one corner of
the room stood a table, the stove and a cupboard, but primitive ways of
cooking in the fireplace, were fun when "used in moderation," as Peggy
put it.
Soon the savory supper was over and everything cleared away. Peggy and
Leslie lit the candles on the trees, for they knew that eager feet were
trampling the light snow in the path from the village. Childish voices
were heard outside before long and then there came a pause. Leslie was
about to fling open the door, but Beth signaled to her to wait. It was
Anita whose clear voice led the Christmas carol which Beth had taught
them, but the children were almost too excited to finish it properly for
the lights of the tree shone out over the snow to invite them within.
"I couldn't make 'em sing it vera good," said Anita, as Beth drew her
inside with the rest of the children and several mothers, one of whom
Beth had first met that day on the beach when someone else important
entered Beth's life to stay.
"It was _beautiful_," Beth answered lovingly. "Now we'll all sing
together while you warm your toes and fingers by the fire. Leslie, get
your guitar, please, and Peggy, you may lead us if you will. We shall
have Sarita to sing with us after Christmas. After we sing about the
little Christ-Child, we shall see what Santa can find for us on that
tree!"
Obediently the children sang and how they shouted when Dalton, who had
disappeared during the singing, appeared as Santa Claus with a
rosy-cheeked, white-bearded Santa Claus mask. There was no delay in
presenting the gifts, in providing which some absent friends had a
share.
It was much later, after the guests had gone, that Beth sat alone by the
fire. Dalton, Leslie and Peggy had taken their skates to the lake. Beth
felt a little lonely and was not in a mood to read. She was thinking of
someone whom Tom Carey had promised to take in whenever he could get
away for a trip to Maine. She was still thrilled over his last letter
and she wondered if he had yet received her reply. The flames curled
lazily around the last log that Dalton had put on before he left.
Unexpectedly, but appropriately to her thought, there came a little rap
that Beth knew. "Oh,--why--" she said, as she opened the door quickly to
a traveler in a big fur coat.
"I couldn't help it, Beth," said Evan Tudor, closing the door upon icy
breezes, tossing off his thick gloves and taking both her hands. "Beth,
dear, I have sold the 'best seller'! It has just been accepted and I had
to come on to make _sure_ that I am, too. It's Christmas Eve, Beth!"
"I didn't make any conditions, did I, Evan, in my letter? I'm glad about
the 'best seller'--and--you needn't worry about the rest. Oh, how
_wonderful_ to have you for Christmas!"
THE END
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