The girls were as eager as the boy to view the old ruin from the water, and the breeze being brisk, they were quickly blown down the coast and into the quiet sheltered water beyond the point. “O, Gib,” Dories cried fearfully, “do be careful! There are logs under the water along here that come nearly to the top. Is it a wreck?”
“No, ’taint. It’s all that’s left of the long dock I was tellin’ yo’ about whar the Phantom Yacht used to tie up. Pa said ol’ Colonel Wadbury had lights clear to the end of it and that, when ’twas lit up, ’twas a purty sight.”
“It must have been,” Nann agreed. Then Dories inquired: “Doesn’t it make you feel strange to realize that you are on the very spot where the Phantom Yacht once sailed?”
“And where some day it may sail again,” Nann completed.
The high rocky point cut off the wind and so Gib let the sail flap as they slowly drifted toward the swamp.
“Thar’s all that’s left of that sea wall I was tellin’ about,” the boy nodded at huge rocks half sunken in mire.
“The reeds are higher than our heads,” Dories commented; then she asked, “Is there a path through the marsh, do you think, Gib?”
“No, I’m sure thar ain’t one,” the boy declared. “Me’n Dick Burton would have found it if thar had been. We’ve looked times enough from the land side. We never could get here by water, bein’ as we didn’t have a boat. That’s why I’ve been savin’ to get a punt. Dick, he put in some toward it, an’ so its half his’n.”
“Who is Dick Burton?” Nann inquired.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Gib seemed surprised. “Sort o’ thought o’ course you knew ’bout the Burtons. Dick’s folks own the cabin that’s nearest the rocks. He’s a city feller ’bout my age, or a leetle older, I reckon. He’s been comin’ to these parts ever since we was shavers. You’d ought to know him,” this to Nann, “he lives in Boston, whar you come from.”
The girl addressed laughed good-naturedly. “Gib,” she queried, “have you ever been up to Boston?”
The boy reluctantly confessed that he had not. Then the girl explained that since it was much larger than Siquaw Center, two people might live there forever and not become acquainted.
“Yeah.” Gib had evidently not been listening to the last part of Nann’s remark. “I do wish Dick was here now that we’ve got the punt,” he said. “I sure sartin wish he was.”
“Why?” Dories inquired as she let one hand drift in the cool water.
“Wall, me’n he allays thought maybe thar was a channel through the swamp up toward the old ruin. If he was here we’d set out to find it.”
“But why can’t Dori and I help you as much as he could?” Nann queried. “I believe you are right, Gib,” she continued before the boy had time to reply. “I’ve seen swamps before, and there was always a narrow channel through them where the tide washed when it was high. See ahead there, where the swamp comes down to the water’s edge, I wish you’d take the sail down, Gib, and row as close to it as you can.”
The boy looked his amazement.
“But, I say, Miss Nann, like’s not we’d hit a snag, like’s not we would.”
“Who’s skeered now?” the girl taunted. The boy flushed. “Not me!” he protested, and taking down the sail he rowed along the water side of the dense reedy growths. “Yo’ see thar’s nothin’,” he began when Nann, leaning forward, pointed as she cried excitedly, “There it is! There’s an opening in the swamp leading right up to that haunted house.”
Nann was right. A narrow channel of clear water appeared among the reeds that were higher than their heads. It led toward the middle of the marsh and was wide enough for a larger boat than theirs to pass through.
“Now, the next question is, do we dare go in?” Nann was gleeful over her find and how she wished that Gib’s friend, Dick Burton, were there to share with them that exciting moment.
“Well, that question is easy to answer,” Dories hastened to say. “We most certainly do not dare.”
The boy, having removed his nondescript cap, was scratching his ear in a way that he always did when puzzled. Then there was a sudden eager light in his red-brown eyes. Replacing his hat, he seized the oars and began to row rapidly back up the shore and toward the row of eight cottages.
Nann was puzzled and voiced her curiosity. “Got to get back to Siquaw in time for the ten-ten train,” was all the information she received.
Since he had said nothing of this when they started out, and had seemed to be in no hurry whatever, Nann naturally wondered about it.
Some light might have been thrown on his action had she seen him, one hour later, as he sat on the high stool at his father’s desk in the general store. He was painstakingly writing, and, when the ten-ten train arrived, Gibralter Strait was on the platform waiting to send to the nearby city of Boston the very first letter that he had ever written.
All the next day the girls waited and watched, but Gibralter Strait appeared neither on land nor on sea to explain his queer actions. Their hostess asked Dories to read to her and so the morning was passed in that way. Nann, busy at a piece of fancy work she was making for a Christmas present, sat listening. In the afternoon the girls were told to amuse themselves. This they did by climbing to the “tip-top rock,” sitting there in the balmy sun and speculating about the old ruin; about the reason for Gib’s sudden departure for his home the day before, and about the boy and girl who had sailed away on the Phantom Yacht. It was not until a fog, filmy at first, but rapidly increasing in density, began to hide the sun that they thought of returning homewards. As they passed the cabin nearest the rocks, Dories said, “This is the Burton cottage, I suppose. I wonder if Dick is our kind of boy?”
“Meaning what?” Nann wondered.
“O, you know as well as I do. I like Gib, of course. He’s a splendid boy, but he hasn’t had a chance. I merely meant a boy from families like our own.”
“I rather think so,” Nann replied, as she gazed at the boarded-up cabin. Then suddenly she stopped and stared at one of the upper windows. The blind had opened ever so slightly and then had closed again, but of this Nann said nothing. She was afraid that she was becoming almost as imaginative as Dories. Then suddenly she recalled something. Gib had said that his father had seen a light in the old ruin the night before. And what was more, she and Dories knew there had been someone carrying a lantern on the beach near the rocks at least twice since they had been there. What if the lantern-carrier hid in the Burton cottage during the day? He couldn’t live in the old ruin, since it had only one wall standing.
Luckily, Dories had been interested in watching the waves breaking at her feet. Turning, she called, “O, but it’s getting cold and damp. Let’s run the rest of the way.”
When they reached their home cabin, Nann went at once to inquire if Miss Moore wished her supper. The girl was sure that she heard a scurrying noise in the old woman’s room. The door was closed and there was silence for a brief moment before she was told to enter. Puzzled, Nann glanced quickly at the bed and noted that the old woman’s cap was awry. She also saw something else that puzzled her, but she merely said, “What would you like tonight with your tea, Miss Moore?”
“Nothing at all but toast, and tell Dories to be sure it doesn’t burn. I don’t relish it when it has been scraped.” The tone in which this was said was impatient and fretful. It was evident that the old woman was not in as pleasant a mood as she had seemed to be in the morning.
Returning to the kitchen, where the kettle was already boiling, Nann made the tea and toasted the bread as well as she could over the blaze; then Dories arranged her aunt’s tray attractively and took it in to her. While she was gone, Nann stood staring out of the window at the gathering dusk. She believed she had a clue to one of the mysteries surrounding them, but decided not to tell her friend until she was a little more certain about it herself.
When Dories returned to the kitchen she said, “Day-dreaming, Nann?”
“No, dusk-dreaming,” was the smiling reply; then, “Now let’s get our evening repast. What shall it be?”
Together they looked in the closet, each selecting a canned vegetable and something for desert. “This is a lazy way to live,” Nann began, when Dories exclaimed: “Do you realize that we haven’t had one of those notes today? I believe my bell scared away the ghost after all.”
Nann laughed merrily. “Nary a bit of it, my friend. Didn’t his spooky highness tie his last note to the bell clapper? I suppose that is why we didn’t hear it tinkle again.”
“But we haven’t found a note today—O dear!” Dories broke off to exclaim: “The fire must be going out, Nann,” she called; “you’re the magician when it comes to stirring up a blaze. What do you suppose is the matter?”
A quick glance within brought the amused answer: “Wood needed, my dear, that’s all! Which reminds me of Dad’s wondering why the car won’t go when it’s out of gas.” As she spoke she turned toward the wood box and found it empty. “Hmm!” she ejaculated, “that means one of us will have to hie out to the shed after more wood if we want a hot supper.”
Dories, after a swift glance at the black fog-hung window, suggested, “Let’s change our menu and have a cold spread.”
“Nixy, my dear,” Nann said brightly. “I’ll be wood-carrier. I’ll sally forth with a lighted lantern, like that mysterious midnight prowler. I won’t be able to bring in much wood, but I believe a piece or two will provide all the heat we’ll need to warm up canned things.” She was lighting the lantern as she talked. The lamp was burning on the kitchen table, and, while her friend was gone, Dories laid out the dishes and silver.
Nann, having reached the shed, groped about for the leather thong. To her surprise the door was not fastened, and, as she stood peering into the dense blackness, she was sure that she heard a scrambling noise inside. Then all was still. Nann scratched one of the matches that she had brought with her. In the far corner stood an empty barrel and in front of it was piled the wood that she and Dories had gathered on the beach. Not another thing was to be seen, and although she stood listening intently for several seconds, not another sound was heard.
“A rat probably,” the girl thought as she placed her lantern on the floor and picked up several pieces of wood.
Returning to the kitchen, Nann threw her armful of wood into the box near the stove, when Dories suddenly leaped forward, exclaiming excitedly, “There it is. There’s the note we have been wondering about.”
“Why—why, so it is!” Nann stared as though she could hardly believe her eyes. Then, springing up, she cried joyfully: “Dories Moore, we’ve caught the ghost. He was leaving this paper when I went out. He must still be in the woodshed somewhere, for I bolted the door on the outside. He must have been hiding in that old empty barrel when I looked in. Light the lantern again and let’s go out this minute and see who is there.”
Although Dories was not enthusiastic over the prospect of capturing a ghost in a woodshed on so dark a fog-damp night, yet, since her companion was ready to start, she couldn’t refuse to accompany her, and so, after closing the kitchen door, they stole along the path leading from the porch to the shed that was nearer the swamp. Suddenly Dories clutched her friend’s arm, whispering, “Hark. What’s that?”
“It’s the ghost. He’s still in there.” This triumphantly from Nann, the fearless. “That’s the same scrambling noise that I heard before. Come on. Don’t be afraid. I’ll throw open the door and at least we’ll see who it is.”
Leaping forward, Nann unbolted the door and held up the lantern. The shed was as empty as it had been before, and there was nothing at all in the barrel.
Dories’ sigh was one of relief, and she fairly darted back to the warm kitchen, nor did she breathe naturally until the outer door was bolted. Then Nann inquired, “What did the note say. We forgot to read it?” Stooping, she took it from under a splinter of wood and, opening it, read: “In ten days you will know all.”
Long after Dories slept that night Nann lay awake thinking of the several mysteries surrounding them. Who was leaving the notes in places where the girls could not help finding them; who was carrying a lantern on the rocky point at night; was it the same light that was seen in the old ruin by people living in Siquaw Center, and why had the blind in the Burton cottage opened ever so little and then closed again as though someone had peered out at them for a brief moment? It was indeed puzzling. Could it possibly have anything to do with the Phantom Yacht? Nann decided that was impossible. At last she fell asleep. When she awakened it was nearly dawn. The fog had drifted away, the stars shone out and the full moon made it as light as day.
Nann, the fearless, decided to dress and go out on the sand and look at the Burton cottage. She was nearly dressed before she realized that if Dories woke and found her gone, she might scream out in her fright and waken the old woman, and so she shook her gently, whispering her plan. Dories’ eyes showed her terror at being left alone. She got up at once. “I simply will not stay in this haunted loft,” she declared vehemently. “I’m going with you.” As it was still dark they took the lighted lantern with them, but when they reached the back porch, Nann whispered that they would have to put out the light as they would be seen if, indeed, there was anyone to see them. “We’ll take it, though. I have matches in my pocket. We’ll light it if we need it.”
Dories clung to her friend’s hand as Nann led the way back of the row of boarded-up cottages. When they reached the seventh, Dories suddenly drew back and whispered, “Nann, why are we doing this? What are you expecting to see? I’m simply scared to death.” Her companion realized that this was true, since Dories’ teeth were chattering. Self-rebukingly, she said, “O, I ought not have brought you. In fact, I probably shouldn’t have come myself, but I am so eager to solve at least one of the mysteries that surround us.” Then she told how she had been sure that she had seen a blind open ever so slightly and close late the afternoon before as though someone had been watching them. “I thought if someone goes every night to the old ruin and returns to the Burton cottage to hide during the day, he probably comes just about this hour, and that if we were watching, we might at least see what the—the—well—whoever it is—looks like.” They had crouched down in the shadow of the seventh cottage as Nann made this explanation.
Slowly the darkness lightened, the stars and moon dimmed and the east became gray; then rosy, but still there had been no sign of anyone entering the Burton cabin. Nann had been sure that an entrance could not be made in the front of the cottage as the lower windows and door on that side were securely boarded up. The back door was not boarded, and so that was where she was watching.
An hour dragged slowly by. The sun rose and was well on its apparent upward way, and still no one appeared.
“Don’t you think that maybe you imagined it all?” Dories inquired at length as she tried to change her position, having become stiffened from crouching so long.
“Why, no, I am sure that I didn’t.” Then, fearless as usual, Nann announced, “I’m going up to the back porch and try the door.”
This she did, and to her surprise it opened, creaking noisily as it swung on rusty hinges.
Dories leaped to her side. “Gracious, Nann, are you going in?” she whispered tragically. “If anyone is in there, he might lock us in or something.”
Nann turned to reply, but instead she exclaimed: “Why, Dories Moore, you’re whiter than any sheet I ever saw. If you’re that scared, we’d better go right home.”
“I am!” Dories nodded miserably. “I wouldn’t any more dare go into this cottage than—than——”
“Then we won’t.” Nann took her friend by the hand and together they went down the back steps, and Dories said: “I’d rather go home by the front beach if you don’t mind. It’s more open. There’s something so uncanny about the swamps at the back.”
“Anything to please,” was the laughing reply. As they rounded the cottage, Nann looked curiously at the upper windows, and was sure that she saw the same blind open ever so little, then close again. She said nothing of this, and tried to change the trend of her companion’s thoughts by talking about Gibralter Strait and wondering if they would see him during that day which had just dawned. Nann was deciding that she would take Gib into her confidence. A boy as fearless as he was would not mind entering the Burton cottage and finding out why that upper blind had opened and closed as it seemed to do.
As they neared their home cabin, Dories became more like her natural self and even skipped along the hard beach, laughing back at Nann as she called, “Another glorious, sparkling day! I hope something interesting is going to happen.”
“I believe something will,” Nann replied. They were nearing the front steps when Dories stood still, pointing, “Look at that stone lying in the middle of the top step. How do you suppose it ever got there?”
Nann shook her head and, leaping up the steps, she lifted the small rock, then turned back, exclaiming: “Just what I thought! Here is today’s note from your ghost. It’s much too clever for us.” Then she read: “In nine days you shall know all.”
Not wishing to awaken Miss Moore at so early an hour, the girls tiptoed down the steps and went around to the back of the cabin.
“Let’s look in the woodshed by daylight,” Nann suggested as she unbolted the door. “Nothing within, just as I supposed,” she remarked. “Humm-ho. We’re not very good detectives, I guess.”
They started walking toward the kitchen. “But why try to find out what the mysteries are about if every day brings us one nearer to the time when we are to know all?” Dories inquired.
Nann laughed. “O, I’d heaps rather ferret the thing out for myself than be told.” Then she said more seriously: “Honestly, Dori, I don’t think the notes refer to the mystery of the old ruin at all. I think, if that is ever solved, we’ll have to find it out for ourselves.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I’d rather not tell quite yet.” They entered the kitchen. “Now,” Nann said, “I’m going to make a fire and get breakfast. We’ve been up so long that I’m ravenously hungry. I’m going to make flapjacks no less.”
“Good!” Dories replied. “I won’t refuse to eat them.” Although consumed with curiosity concerning what her friend had said, Dories decided to bide her time before asking Nann to explain.
Miss Moore did not awaken, apparently, until midmorning and the girls did not want to go away until they had served her breakfast. They had been to her door several times and to all appearances the elderly woman had been asleep. When, at length, Miss Moore did awaken, she complained of having been disturbed by noises in the night. “Why did you girls tiptoe around the living-room just before daybreak?”
“Why, we didn’t, Aunt Jane! Truly we didn’t,” Dories replied. She did not like to tell that it would have been a physical impossibility for them to have done so, as they were crouched behind “cabin seven” at that hour watching “cabin eight.”
The old woman looked at the speaker sharply, then continued: “I called your name and for a time the tiptoeing stopped. Then, when I pretended to be asleep, it began again. I was sure that under the crack of the door I could see a fire burning as though you had lighted wood on the grate.”
“Oh, no, Miss Moore, we didn’t, I assure you,” Nann exclaimed. “There wasn’t any wood on it. We swept it clean yesterday afternoon.” A cry from Dories caused the speaker to pause and turn toward her. She was pointing at the fireplace. There was a small charred pile in the center of the grate. The old woman’s thoughts had evidently changed their direction for she asked, querulously, if they were going to keep her waiting all the morning for her breakfast.
While out in the kitchen preparing it, Dories whispered, her eyes wide, “Nann, what do you make of it all? You are smiling to yourself as if you had solved the mystery.”
“I believe I have, one of them; but, Dori, please don’t ask me to explain until I catch the ghost red-handed, so to speak.”
“White-handed, shouldn’t it be?” Dories inquired, her fears lessened by Nann’s evident delight in something she believed she had discovered.
When Miss Moore’s breakfast had been served, the girls, wishing to tidy up the cabin, set to work with a will. Nann was sweeping the porch and Dories was dusting and straightening the living-room when a queer humming noise was heard in the distance. “Dori,” Nann called, “come out here a moment. Can’t you hear a strange buzzing noise? It sounds as though it were high up in the air. What can it be?”
The other girl appeared in the open doorway and they both listened intently.
“Maybe it’s a flock of geese going south for the winter,” Dories ventured, but her friend shook her head. “That noise is coming nearer. Not going farther away,” she said. The buzzing and whizzing sounds increased with great rapidity. Springing down the steps, Nann exclaimed, “Whatever is making that commotion, is now right over our heads.”
Dories bounded to her friend’s side and they both gazed into the gleaming blue sky with shaded eyes.
“There it is!” Nann cried excitedly. “Why, of course, it’s an airplane! We should have guessed that right away. I wonder where it is going to land. There’s nothing but marsh and water around here besides this narrow strip of beach.”
“Oh, look! look!” This from Dories. “It’s dropping right down into the ocean and so it must be one of those combination air and sea planes.”
“Unless it has broken a wing and is falling,” Nann suggested. The airplane, nose downward, had seemed verily to plunge into the sea.
“Let’s run to the Point o’ Rocks.” Dories started as she spoke and Nann, throwing down the broom, raced after her. It was hard to go very rapidly where the sand was deep and dry, and so by the time they had climbed up on the highest boulder out on the rocky point, there was no sign whatever of the airplane either sailing safely on the water nor lying on the shore disabled.
“Hmm! That certainly is puzzling,” Nann said as she half closed her eyes in meditative thought. “Now, where can that huge thing have gone that it has disappeared so entirely?”
“I can’t imagine,” Dories replied. “If only Gibralter were here with his punt, we might be able to find out.” Then she exclaimed merrily, “Nann, there is another mystery added to the twenty and nine that we already have.”
“Not quite that many,” the other maid replied, giving one last long look in the direction they believed the plane had descended or fallen. “I’m inclined to think,” she ventured, “that there is a bay or something beyond the swamp. O, well, let’s go back to our task. It’s lunch time, if nothing else.”
They decided, as the day was unusually warm for that time of the year, to eat a cold lunch, and, as their aunt did not wish anything then, the girls decided to walk along the beach in the opposite direction and see if they could find the cove where Gib kept his punt in hiding. But, just as they reached the spot where the road from town ended at the beach, they heard a merry hallooing, and, turning, they beheld Gibralter Strait riding the white horse that was usually hitched to the coach.
“Oh, good, good!” was Dories’ delighted exclamation. “Now perhaps we will find out about the plane. Of course the people in town saw it and Gib may know——” She stopped talking to stare at the approaching steed and rider in wide-eyed amazement. “How queer!” she ejaculated. “Nann, am I seeing double? I’m sure that I see four legs and Gib certainly has only two.”
There were undeniably four long, slim legs, two on either side of the big white horse, but the mystery was quickly explained by the appearance, over Gib’s shoulder, of a head belonging to another boy.
“Nann Sibbett!” Dories whirled, the light of inspiration in her eyes, “I do believe that other boy is Dick Burton, of whom Gib has so often spoken.”
And Dories was right. Gib waved his cap, then leaped to the sand, closely followed by the newcomer. One glance at the young stranger assured the girls that he was a city lad. His merry brown eyes twinkled when Gibralter introduced him merely as the “kid that was crazy to find a way into the old ruin.”
The city boy took off his cap in a manner most polite, adding, “By name, Richard Ralston Burton, but I’m usually called Dick.”
Nann, realizing that Gib hadn’t the remotest idea how to introduce his friend to them, then told the lad their names, adding, “Oh, Gib, you just can’t guess how glad we are that you have come at last. The mysteries are heaping up so high and fast that we simply must solve a few of them.”
But it was quite evident that the boys were equally excited about the airplane, which they, too, had seen as they were riding on the white horse along the road in the swamps. “I say,” Gib began at once, “did yo’uns see where that airplane fellow dove to? D’you ’spose he’s smashed all to smithereens on the rocks over yonder?”
The girls shook their heads. “No,” Dories replied, “we just came from there and there wasn’t a sign of that airplane. We thought that at least we would see the wreck of it.”
“It must o’ landed round the curve whar the swamp comes down to the shore,” Gib said.
“Come on, old man, let’s investigate.” Then Dick smiled directly at Nann as he added, “We won’t be gone long.”
Turning, the two girls, with arms locked, walked slowly back toward their home cabin, but their gaze was following the rapidly disappearing boys.
“My, how they did scramble over the rocks. I wonder why they went over the top. I’m sure one can see better from up there,” Dories turned to her friend to exclaim with enthusiasm. “Isn’t Dick Burton the nicest boy? I’m ever so glad he came. He’ll add a lot to our good times.”
Nann nodded. “One can tell in a moment that Dick has been well brought up,” she commented. “Isn’t it too bad that Gib isn’t going to have a chance to make something of himself? I believe he would be a writer if he had an education. You know how imaginative he is and how he enjoyed telling us the story of the Phantom Yacht.”
The girls sauntered along to the point of rocks and stood watching the waves break over the boulders that projected into the water.
“Isn’t it queer how calm it is sometimes and how rough at others, and yet there isn’t a bit of wind blowing, and it’s as warm and balmy one time as another,” Dories said, then leaped back with a merry laugh as an unusually large breaker pursued her up the beach.
“I think it may be the stage of the tides,” Nann speculated, “or else there may have been a storm at sea. O good! Here come the boys.”
Dick’s expressive face told the girls of his disappointment before he spoke. “Didn’t see a thing unusual,” he said. “Of course we couldn’t go far because of the marsh.”
“It sure is too bad the surf’s crashin’ in the way ’tis today,” Gibralter told them. “Here’s Dick, come all the way from Boston to stay till Sunday night, jest so’s we could go up that little creek in the marsh. He’s wild to get into the ol’ ruin, aren’t you, Dick?”
“Yep,” the other boy agreed, “but if we can’t make it this week end, I’ll come down next.” Then with sudden interest, “How long are you girls going to be here on Siquaw Point?”
Although Dick asked the question of Nann, it was Dories who replied. “Aunt Jane said this morning that she thinks we will be leaving in about ten days now. You see,” by way of explanation, “my elderly aunt came down here for absolute rest, and now that she is rested, we may go back to town sooner than we expected.”
The four young people had seated themselves on the rocks.
Nann put in with: “I, for one, don’t want to leave this place until we have cleared up a few of the mysteries.” Then, chancing to thrust her hand in the pocket of her sweater-coat, she drew out a half dozen slips of crumpled yellow paper. “Oh, Gib,” she exclaimed, “where in the world do you suppose these came from? We find them in the queerest places. We can’t understand in the least who is leaving them.”
Gibralter’s face was a blank. “What’s that writin’ on ’em?” He picked one up as he spoke and scrutinized it closely.
“In nine days you shall know all,” Dick read as he looked over his friend’s shoulder.
“Know all o’ what?” Gib queried.
The boys looked from Dories to Nann. The girls shook their heads. “We thought maybe you could help clear up some of the mysteries,” the latter said. “Have you ever heard of any queer person hanging around this beach? A hermit or a—a——”
Gib leaned forward, his red-brown eyes gleaming. “D’y mean, mabbe, the lantern person that yo’ uns saw one night on the rocks?”
Nann nodded. “We thought it might be someone who visited the ruin by night and—” the speaker glanced at the visiting boy, then interrupted herself to inquire, “Dick, do you remember whether your people left your cabin locked or not?”
The lad addressed turned and looked at the cottage nearest for a moment as though trying to recall something. Then a lightening in his eyes proved that he had succeeded. Springing to his feet, he exclaimed, “I declare if I hadn’t forgotten it. I’m glad you spoke, Miss Nann. Mother said that in the hurry of getting away she wasn’t sure whether or not she had locked the back door. She always hides the key under the back porch, so that if any one of us comes down out of season, he can get in.” Then, when the others had also risen, Dick suggested, “Let’s walk around that way and see what we will see.”
Dories glanced quickly at Nann and saw that her friend was gazing steadily at an upper window. She surmised that Nann was trying to decide whether or not to tell the boys that she had seen the blind moving, for, after all, how could she be sure but that it had been her imagination. The watcher saw Nann’s expression change to one of suppressed excitement, then she whirled with her back to the cottage and said in a low voice, “Everybody turn and look at the ocean. I want to tell you something.”
Puzzled indeed, the boys and Dories faced about as Nann had done, and, to help her friend, the other maid pointed out toward the island. “What’s this all about?” Dick inquired. “Miss Nann, you look as though you had seen something startling. What is it?”
Very quietly Nann explained how for the third time she had seen an upper blind open ever so little as though someone was peering out at them, and then close again.
“You think someone is hiding in our cottage?” Dick asked in amazement. Nann nodded. “Well then, we’ll soon find out.” The city boy’s tone did not suggest hesitancy or fear. “You girls would better go over to your own cabin and wait until we join you.”
It was quite evident that Nann did not like this suggestion, but Dories did, and said so frankly. “I’ll run home anyway,” she said when she saw how disappointed Nann was. “Probably Aunt Jane would like me to read to her.”
And so it was that Nann accompanied the two boys around to the back of the Burton cottage. As before, the door creaked open, and very stealthily they entered the dark kitchen. This being the largest cottage in the row, the stairway was boarded off from a narrow hall; there being a door at the foot and another at the top. The one at the bottom was unlocked, and so the three investigators began the ascent, groping their way in the dark. “Wish’t we had along some matches,” Gib began, when Nann whispered, “I do believe that I have some. I took a dozen with us this morning. Yes, here they are in my watch pocket.” Dick, in the lead, took the matches, and as he opened the upper door, he scratched one. It very faintly illumined a long hall with a boarded-up window at the end.
There were four closed doors along the hall. The one at the right front would lead into the room where a window blind had moved. Nann almost held her breath as Dick, after scratching another match, tried the door. It did not open. “Mabbe it’s jest stuck,” Gib suggested. “Let’s all push.” This they did and the door burst open so suddenly that they plunged headlong into the room and the flicker of the match went out. How musty and dark it was! Quickly another match was lighted; but there seemed to be no occupant other than themselves. The closet door, standing open, revealed merely row after row of hooks and shelves. There was no furniture in the room of a concealing nature. Nann went at once to the blind and found that it was swinging slightly. “Well,” she had to acknowledge, “I believe after all I was wrong in my surmise. Let’s get back. Dories will be worried about me.”
Dick, before leaving the room, hooked the blind carefully on the inside, and, after closing the window, he remarked, “It’s queer Mother should have left a window open as well as the back door. But I remember now. She said that they were afraid of losing the train. Something had delayed them. I had gone on ahead to start school.”
When they were again safely out in the sunshine, Nann inquired, “I wonder where your mother left the key. It isn’t in the door.”
Before replying Dick went to one corner beneath the porch, removed a lattice door which could not have been discovered by anyone not knowing about it, reached his hand around to one of the uprights where, on a nail, he found the key hanging. He held it up triumphantly. Then, after locking the kitchen door, he replaced the key and the lattice, exclaiming as he did so, “I believe I understand now what happened. In the hurry, Mother put the key in the right place without having locked the door, so that’s that.” But Nann was not entirely convinced.
The late afternoon fog was drifting in when the three started to walk along the beach. They saw Dories running to meet them. “Well, thanks be you’re all alive,” was her relieved exclamation.
Nann laughed. “Did you think a cannibal was hiding in the Burton cottage?” Then she added, pretending to be disappointed, “I had at least hoped to find a ghost or a——”
“Look! Look!” Gib cried excitedly, pointing beyond the rocks.