The Missing Formula

  CHAPTER VIII A Night Caller

  It was too dark for the girls to distinguish objects either on the wateror along the shore, but a moment after the light went out they distinctlyheard the sound of oars working in their locks. Apparently, someone wastrying to get away from the island before their arrival.

  "Let's find out who it is," Madge said in a low tone.

  She snatched up the paddle again and sent the canoe skimming through thewater. Presently she paused to listen.

  "I can't hear a thing now, Anne. Can you?"

  "No, the boat must have pulled up along the mainland somewhere. I'mafraid we've lost him."

  Anne paddled slowly along the shore, peering toward the dense fringe oftrees and underbrush. There was no sign of a boat.

  "We've probably passed it by this time," Madge said at last. "If the boathas been drawn up into the brush we could hunt all night and never findit."

  They cruised about for some minutes but finally turned back towardStewart Island, convinced that they were only wasting time. Even afterthey had landed there, they stood for nearly fifteen minutes on thebeach, watching for the mysterious boat to reappear upon the lake.

  "He means to lie low," Anne declared wearily. "Let's get something toeat. I'm starved."

  "I wonder if the house has been entered again?" Madge considered, as theystarted up the path carrying their string of fish.

  "Well, I hope it isn't turned topsy-turvy. I'm too tired to lift a handtonight."

  They let themselves into the house and were relieved to find it in itsusual order. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed.

  "Perhaps it was only old Bill Ramey, after all," Anne suggested. "He actsqueerly sometimes."

  "It wasn't Bill," Madge insisted. "I'm sure of that. It may have beenthat thief returning for the silver he hid in the log."

  "That doesn't fit in with our theory about the formula," Anne pointedout. "We decided that the silverware was only taken to throw us off thetrack. Why then, would the thief risk coming back for it?"

  "I guess he wouldn't. Oh, I give it up. Let's eat!"

  She cleaned several of the bass, which soon were sizzling in a pan ofbutter. The girls ate heartily. They were too tired to wash the dishes,so stacked them neatly in the sink. When they dropped into bed a fewminutes later, they were too weary to even consider that with a strangerprowling about, their situation might not be too secure. Scarcely hadtheir heads touched the pillow than they were asleep.

  The girls were awake early the next morning. Insisting that she could notremain for breakfast, Madge started for home. Rounding the point of themainland not far from the lodge, her attention was attracted to an emptyboat which was drifting close to shore.

  "Why, that looks like one of ours," she thought.

  Drawing nearer, she saw that it was her uncle's skiff. The waves werepounding it mercilessly upon the rocks.

  "I'm afraid it's already damaged," she told herself as she fastened therope to her own boat. "It must not have been securely tied to the dock. Iwonder who used it last?"

  She decided that it must have been either Clyde Wendell or Mr. Brownell,for her aunt seldom went out on the water and Mr. Brady was alwayscareful. Old Bill had been warned repeatedly to see that the boats werefirmly tied, but he was careless.

  Mr. Brady was working along the shore when Madge came in with the boat intow. He met the girl at the dock, asking where she had found it.

  "I noticed the boat was missing this morning," he added. "I told Bill togo out and look for it, but he's been killing time at something orother."

  Mr. Brady pulled the boat out upon the sand and turned it bottom side up.Madge watched him as he examined the covering for stone cuts.

  "Who used it last?" she asked curiously.

  "I'd like to know myself," her uncle returned grimly. "I didn't rent itto any of the guests. Either someone sneaked it out after dark lastnight, or Bill used it. If I thought he was responsible, I'd fire him.This boat is practically ruined."

  "You've discharged poor old Bill three times already," Madge reminded himimpishly. "When he tells you his hard luck story, you always take himback."

  At this very moment the veteran workman slouched leisurely into view andMr. Brady promptly hailed him. Old Bill approached warily, knowing fromthe tone of the voice, that something unpleasant was in store. Confrontedwith the evidence, he staunchly denied having used the boat the previousnight.

  "You think I'd go out on the lake after toting stone all day? Not me! Itell ye, a man's dog tired arfter workin' hard from mornin' till night.An' if I had a taken out the boat, you'd heve found it tied upship-shape. No, sir, arfter I had me supper last night, I went straightto bed."

  He would have continued with a more elaborate denial but Mr. Brady cuthim short. Bill went off looking affronted.

  To question the guests was a delicate matter, but Mr. Brady was bent upongetting at the bottom of the matter. He politely brought up the subjectat the dinner table, and both the chemist and Mr. Brownell insisted thatthey had not used the boat.

  "Someone is telling a whopper," Madge thought. "It wouldn't surprise meif the person who took that boat used it to visit Stewart Island."

  Although the question had been put to him in a casual way, Clyde adoptedthe attitude that he was under suspicion. He sulked about the house theearly part of the afternoon, scarcely addressing a pleasant word toanyone. Then, evidently upon sudden impulse, he rented the canoe and setout for Stewart Island.

  Mr. Brownell who had been loafing about the lodge the better part of themorning, did not see him leave, but a few minutes later, he too expresseda desire to go out upon the lake. Madge explained that with the skiffdamaged, the canoe in use, and Bill hauling stone in the boat, it wouldbe impossible.

  "But I must get over to Stewart Island," he protested. "I've put it offtoo long now."

  "Unless you care to swim I'm afraid you must wait until Bill or Clydereturn," Madge returned.

  She did not wish to help Mr. Brownell reach Stewart Island, knowing thatAnne was not ready for his visit, but she had been truthful in sayingthat there was no way for him to make the trip.

  "Anne will have trouble enough with Clyde," she thought. "I imagine he'sbothering her about money again."

  Mr. Brownell wandered restlessly up and down the beach, watching the lakefor a glimpse of the canoe or Old Bill. After a time he sat down on theveranda to read and Madge who had finished her work, brought out thebooks Anne had loaned her. Until now she had not had an opportunity tolook them over. Propping herself in the porch swing, she settled down foran hour of pleasant reading.

  She picked up the first volume and her face underwent a distinct changeas she read the title of the Kipling book.

  "'Kim,'" she repeated to herself. "Strange I never thought of theconnection before this! I'm sure Anne said Kim was the last word herfather spoke before his death."

  She continued to stare at the little volume in her hand. The word seemedto burn deeply into her mind. It must have significance. She recalledAnne had told her the Kipling book was her father's favorite. Could therebe a connection between the hidden formula and the book?

  "Anne probably never dreamed of such a thing or she wouldn't have loanedthe volume to me," Madge reasoned. "It may be only another wild idea ofmine and yet it's barely possible I've stumbled upon a clue."

  She held the book up and shook it but nothing fell to the ground.Slightly disappointed, she began a systematic search, turning the pagesone by one. She failed to find a paper of any description and there wasnot the slightest trace of writing on the margins or fly leaves.

  Madge decided that she had made a mistake and tossed the book impatientlyaside. Her interest in reading had vanished. She gazed meditatively outacross the lake. Then her face brightened and she snatched up the Kiplingbook again.

  Why hadn't she thought of it before? When Mr. Fairaday had attempted totell Anne where the formula was hidden he had broken o
ff with the words:"Written in secret--" and kept repeating "Kim." Perhaps he had tried tosay: "Written in secret ink." Wasn't it possible that he had endeavoredto convey the idea that the important message was written on one of thefly leaves or the page margins of "Kim"?

  Overcome with enthusiasm for what she considered a most brilliantdeduction, Madge broke forth in a little war whoop. She stopped short asshe heard someone laugh. She had entirely forgotten Mr. Brownell.

  "Well, well," he remarked dryly, "that book must be interesting to affectyou like that!"

  Before Madge could prevent it, he moved over to the swing and curiouslypicked up the book she had been reading. Her face was the hue of a ripetomato.

  "I guess I'll just take this along with me," he said teasingly.

  "Oh, no!" Madge exclaimed and then added hastily: "You see, it's aborrowed book. I--I'm not through with it myself."

  Mr. Brownell laughed but he continued to study the book.

  "When you're through with it, I'd like to have it," he said. "I've alwayswanted to read 'Kim'."

  With that he dropped the book into Madge's lap and vanished into thelodge. Scarcely had the door closed behind him that she snatched up thelittle volume and bore it triumphantly to her bedroom.

  "Sorry, Mr. Brownell," she chuckled, "but you'll never get this book.Tonight I mean to take it with me to the island. And here's hoping thatwhen the pages are heated, the secret will be revealed!"