Chapter XXIII. A MYSTERY
On this, her first visit to the island in the swamp, Nan said nothingto old Toby Vanderwiller about the line dispute between her uncle andGedney Raffer, which the old lumberman was supposed to be able to settleif he would.
Mrs. Vanderwiller insisted upon Toby's hitching up an old, broken-kneedpony he owned, and taking her over the corduroy road to Pine Camp, whereshe arrived before dark. To tell the truth, little Margaret Llewellenwas not the only person who thought it odd that Nan should want to goto see the Vanderwillers in the heart of the tamarack swamp. Nan's uncleand aunt and cousins considered their guest a little odd; but they madeno open comment when the girl arrived at home after her visit.
Nan was full of the wonders she had seen, commonplace enough to herrelatives who had lived all their lives in touch with the beautiful andqueer things of Nature as displayed in the Michigan Peninsula. Perhapsnone but Tom appreciated her ecstasy over crippled Corson Vanderwiller'scollection.
Rafe was inclined to poke good-natured fun at his young cousin for herenthusiasm; but Tom showed an understanding that quite surprised Nan.Despite his simplicity regarding some of the commonest things of thegreat outside world, he showed that he was very observant of the thingsabout him.
"Oh, Tom was always like that," scoffed Rafe, with ready laughter at hisslow brother. "He'd rather pick up a bug any day and put it through across-examination, than smash it under the sole of his boot."
"I don't think bugs were made to smash," Tom said stoutly.
"Whew! What in thunder were they made for?" demanded the mocking Rafe.
"I don't think God Almighty made things alive just for us to make 'emdead," said Tom, clumsily, and blushing a deep red.
Rafe laughed again. Rafe had read much more in a desultory fashion thanTom.
"Tom ought to be one of those Brahmas," he said, chuckling. "They carrya whisk broom to brush off any seat they may sit on before they sitdown, so's they sha'n't crush an ant, or any other crawling thing.They're vegetarians, too, and won't take life in any form."
"Now, Rafe!" exclaimed his mother, who was never quite sure when heryounger son was playing the fool. "You know that Brahmas are hens.I've got some in my flock those big white and black, lazy fowls, withfeathers on their legs."
Nan had to laugh at that as well as Rafe. "Brahma fowl, I guess, camefrom Brahma, or maybe Brahmaputra, all right. But Rafe means Brahmans.They're a religious people of India," the girl from Tillbury said.
"And maybe they've got it right," Tom said stubbornly. "Why should wekill unnecessarily?"
Nan could have hugged him. At any rate, a new feeling for him was bornat that moment, and she applauded. Aunt Kate said:
"Tom always was soft-hearted," and her big son became silent. Shemight as well have called him "soft-headed"; but Nan began better toappreciate Tom's worth from that time on.
Rafe remained in her eyes still the reckless, heroic figure he hadseemed when running over the logs the day of the timber drive. Butshe began to confide in Tom after this evening of her return from thetamarack swamp.
However, this is somewhat in advance of the story. The pleasant eveningpassed as usual until bedtime came for Nan. She retired to her eastchamber, for the windows of which Tom had made screens to keep out thenight-flying insects. No matter how tired she was at night there was onething Nan Sherwood seldom forgot.
Possibly it was silly in a girl who was almost through her freshman yearat high school, but Nan brought out Beautiful Beulah and rocked her, andhugged her, and crooned over her before she went to bed. She was such acomfort!
So Nan, on this evening, went first of all to the closet and reacheddown to draw out the box in which she had kept the doll hidden eversince coming to Pine Camp.
It was not there!
At first Nan Sherwood could not believe this possible. She dropped onher knees and scrambled over the floor of her closet, reaching under thehanging skirts and frocks, her fear rising, second by second.
The box was not in its place. She arose and looked about her roomwildly. Of course, she had not left it anywhere else, that was out ofthe question.
She could scarcely believe that any member of the family had been in herroom, much less would disturb anything that was hers. Not even Aunt Katecame to the east chamber often. Nan had insisted upon taking care ofthe room, and she swept and dusted and cleaned like the smart littlehousewife she was. Aunt Kate had been content to let her have her way inthis.
Of course Nan never locked her door. But who would touch a thingbelonging to her? And her doll! Why, she was sure the family did noteven know she had such a possession.
Almost wildly the girl ran out of her chamber and into the sittingroom, where the family was still gathered around the evening lamp, Rafecleaning his shot-gun, Tom reading slowly the local paper, published atthe Forks, Aunt Kate mending, and Uncle Henry sitting at the open windowwith his pipe.
"Oh, it's gone!" gasped Nan, as she burst into the room.
"What's gone?" asked Aunt Kate, and Uncle Henry added: "What's happenedto you, honey-bird?"
"My Beulah!" cried Nan, almost sobbing. "My Beulah, she's been taken!"
"My mercy, child!" cried Aunt Kate, jumping up. "Are you crazy?"
"Who's Beulah?" demanded Rafe, looking up from his gun and, Nan thought,showing less surprise than the others.
"My Beulah doll," said Nan, too troubled now to care whether the familylaughed at her or not. "My Beautiful Beulah. Somebody's played a trick."
"A doll!" shouted Rafe, and burst into a chatter of laughter.
"Mercy me, child!" repeated Aunt Kate. "I didn't know you had a doll."
"Got a baby rattle, too, Sissy?" chuckled Rafe. "And a ring to cut yourteeth on? My, my!"
"Stop that, Rafe!" commanded his father, sternly, while Tom flushed andglared angrily at his brother.
"I didn't know you had a doll, Nannie," said Mrs. Sherwood, ratherweakly. "Where'd you have it?"
"In my closet," choked Nan. "She's a great, big, beautiful thing! I knowsomebody must be playing a joke on me."
"Nobody here, Nannie," said Uncle Henry, with decision. "You may be sureof that." But he looked at Rafe sternly. That young man thought it thebetter part of wisdom to say no more.
In broken sentences the girl told her innocent secret, and why she hadkept the doll hidden. Aunt Kate, after, all, seemed to understand.
"My poor dear!" she crooned, patting Nan's hand between her hard palms."We'll all look for the dolly. Surely it can't have been taken out ofthe house."
"And who'd even take it out of her closet?" demanded Tom, almost asstern as his father.
"It surely didn't walk away of itself," said Aunt Kate.
She took a small hand lamp and went with Nan to the east chamber. Theysearched diligently, but to no good end, save to assure Nan that Beulahhad utterly disappeared.
As far as could be seen the screens at the windows of the bedroom hadnot been disturbed. But who would come in from outside to steal Nan'sdoll? Indeed, who would take it out of the closet, anyway? The girlwas almost sure that nobody had known she had it. It was strange, verystrange indeed.
Big girl that she was, Nan cried herself to sleep that night over themystery. The loss of Beulah seemed to snap the last bond that held herto the little cottage in Amity street, where she had spent all her happychildhood.