CHAPTER X
AT DAWN
"How do you mean--it might be the best thing to get acquainted with her?"demanded Phyllis, indignantly.
"Why, if we could do so in some way that wasn't like forcing ourselves onher, it might lead to a good many things--solving our mystery mainly. Andthen,--who knows?--she _might_ be pleasant when you come to know herbetter."
"No chance!" declared Phyllis, and dismissed that subject. "Well, AuntSally didn't do much toward clearing up things, did she?" she went on. "Iwas in hopes she'd be able to give us a good many more ideas. One thing'scertain though. That girl evidently came here in the car that rainynight, but--Look here! Something strange has just occurred to me--AuntSally didn't say _which_ rainy night, and there have been two in the pastten days. I judge that the girl must have been with her for at least acouple of weeks, for the hotel closed up more than two weeks ago."
"I've been thinking of that, too," replied Leslie. "And, do you know, I'malmost certain Aunt Sally must have meant the _last_ one, because sheonly said _'rainy'_ night. If she'd meant that other, wouldn't she havesaid 'the night of the hard storm,' or something like that? Because itreally _was_ unusual, and if this Miss Ramsay had gone out _that_ night,I believe Aunt Sally would have been considerably more shocked and wouldhave said so. What do you make of it?"
"The only thing I can make out of it is that she didn't go out that firstnight. But if she _didn't_ visit Curlew's Nest that night, then who inthe world _did_?"
This certainly was a poser, and neither of the two girls could find anadequate conjecture that would answer.
"Then, this Horatio Gaines who hired the bungalow must be hergrandfather. Of course, the _name_ is different, but he may be thegrandfather on her mother's side. But if that is the case, who is the'Hon. Arthur Ramsay'?" questioned Phyllis.
"Perhaps her father or her other grandfather," ventured Leslie.
"That's possible; but I wish I had found out from Aunt Sally if she knewthe name of the grandfather who is ill. That might explain something. Iwish I had asked her at the time. I believe I'll go for the broilersmyself to-morrow and see if I can find out any more in some way thatwon't make her suspect," declared Phyllis.
The next morning Phyllis was as good as her word. She went down to thevillage alone, as Leslie had matters that kept her at home that day. Butshe came flying back breathless, to impart her news.
"I managed to lead the conversation around--to that grandfatherbusiness--again," panted Phyllis, to Leslie, when she had induced herchum to come down to the beach for a moment, "and what do you think shesaid? That his name was _'Ramsay'!_ Now what do you make of _that?_ Ifhis name is Ramsay, he can't be the man who hired that bungalow--andwe're all on the wrong track!"
"No, it doesn't prove that at all," insisted Leslie. "The one who rentedthe bungalow, no matter what his name was, certainly had an envelop inhis possession addressed to _Ramsay_. So you see there's a connectionsomewhere!"
Phyllis had to admit that this was so. "But here's something elsestranger than that--what do you think of my having been introduced to andbecoming acquainted with our 'exclusive young friend'?"
Leslie certainly opened her eyes in astonishment. "You're surely joking!"she exclaimed.
"No, positive truth! It happened this way: I was just about to leave withmy chickens under my arm, when in walks this precious Miss Ramsay, rightinto the room. I could see she was prepared to turn on that cold stareeffect again, but I never so much as noticed her existence. And then AuntSally bustled in,--she'd been upstairs a minute,--and blest if she didn'tintroduce us after all! Said the most complimentary things about yourstruly, and how I was staying at my bungalow on the beach; and then shementioned you, too, and told about you being in the 'Rest Haven'bungalow. It struck me that our young lady sort of pricked up her ears atthat (though it _may_ have been only imagination). But she just said'How-de-do,' rather carelessly--didn't offer to shake hands or anything.
"I muttered something about it being a pleasant day and hoping she wasenjoying the place. But she only replied, 'Oh, ya-as, thanks!' with thatawfully English accent, and walked out of the room. Well, anyhow, we'reformally acquainted now (whether either one of us enjoy it or not!), andthat may be a useful thing later, perhaps."
It was still dark the next morning when Leslie awoke from a dreamlesssleep--awoke suddenly, with the distinct impression that somethingunusual was happening. She lay perfectly still for several moments,trying to localize the sensation more definitely. In her room were twowindows--a small one facing Curlew's Nest and a large, broad one facingthe sea. Leslie always had this window wide open, and her bed was soplaced that she could easily look out of it.
She did so now, and noticed the first light streak of dawn along theeast, and a brilliant star so close to the horizon that it seemed to beresting on the edge of the tossing ocean. Then her heart leaped and feltas if it almost turned over--for between her and the light, at thewindow, she descried the shape of a dark head!
Involuntarily Leslie sprang up to a sitting position. Then the tensionrelaxed and she drew a deep breath of relief. It was only Rags, standingon his hind legs at the window, his great shaggy head silhouetted againstthe light. In another instant he had uttered his low, rumbling growl ofuneasiness.
"What is it, Rags? What do you see?" she called softly to him. He forsookthe window for a moment and trotted over to nuzzle his head on herpillow, but almost immediately hurried back to his post at the window.
"There's something worrying him!" she thought. "Now I wonder what it canbe. Suppose--suppose it were some one around that other bungalow again!I'd better get up and see."
She rose softly, slipped on a warm dressing-gown and slippers, and peeredfirst out of the side window at Curlew's Nest. But the darkness was stillintense on this side, there was no tell-tale light in the chinks of theshutters, and she was forced, after watching for several moments, toconclude that nothing was amiss in this region.
Then she went to the window facing the ocean, pushed Rags aside a trifle,and cuddled down beside him on the window-seat. The dawn was growingevery moment brighter. The streak of gray along the horizon had grown toa broad belt of pink, and very faintly the objects on the beach werebeginning to be visible. Rags still rumbled his uneasy growl atintervals, and stared intently at something Leslie's eye could not yetdiscern.
It was only by following the direction of his gaze that she presentlyrealized there was something moving on the beach somewhere in front ofCurlew's Nest. Then her heart actually did seem to stop beating for aninstant, for in the growing light she at last could distinguish a darkform moving stealthily about by the old log where Rags had dug up the"Dragon's Secret!"
"Oh! who can it be? And what are they doing there?" she whispereddistractedly to Rags. The dog's only reply was to growl a little louder,and she promptly silenced him.
"Be a good dog, Rags! Don't make a sound! It will rouse Aunt Marcia, andbesides I _must_ see who is there, if possible!" Rags settled down againto a quieter watch with evident reluctance.
With every passing moment, day was approaching nearer, and the scene outover the ocean was one of surprising beauty, had Leslie only been lessoccupied and had time to observe it. The band of pink had melted intogold, and a thousand rosy little clouds dimpled the sky above. It was nowso light that the dark shape on the beach stood out with comparativeclearness. It had been bending down and rising up at intervals, and ittook little guessing on Leslie's part to conjecture what was happening.Some one was digging in the spot where the "Dragon's Secret" had beenhidden!
"What if it is Miss Ramsay?" thought Leslie. "Oh, it _must_ be she! Whoelse could it be? She's looking for that box, and she can't find itbecause we've taken it away. Oh, what ought I to do about it? If onlyPhyllis were here!"
At this moment she realized from the actions of the unknown person thatthe search was evidently abandoned. The figure stood upright, struck itshands together, an
d threw away some implement like a board, with whichthe digging had been done. Then, with a discouraged shrug of theshoulders and a hasty glance back at the two cottages, it turned andwalked away down the beach and was shortly out of sight.
And it was then that Leslie sank back on the window seat with a littlegasp of sheer astonishment.
The figure was not--_could_ not have been that of Miss Ramsay! It was a_man_--a tall, burly man; and as he walked away, his gait gave evidenceof a decided limp!