CHAPTER XVIRAGS TO THE RESCUE
Phyllis whirled about. “What is the matter? Why do you say that?” she demanded in a fierce whisper.
Eileen shrank back, evidently appalled by what she had unconsciously revealed. “I—I—didn’t mean anything!” she stammered.
“You certainly did!” Phyllis declared. “You said something about ‘Ted.’ Whois‘Ted,’ and what is going on outside there?”
“Oh, I don’t know!—I’m not—sure! I’m dreadfully nervous—that’s all.”
“Look here!” cried Phyllis, with stern determination, “I believe you know a great deal more than you will acknowledge. You’ve said something about ‘Ted.’ Now, I have a brother Ted, and I’ve reason to think he hasbeen mixed up with some of your affairs. I wish you would kindly explain it all. I think there’s some trouble—out there!”
“Oh, I can’t—I oughtn’t,” Eileen moaned; when suddenly Leslie, who had glanced again out of the window, uttered a half-suppressed cry:
“Oh, thereissomething wrong! They’re—they’re struggling together—for something!”
Both of the other girls rushed to the window and peered out over her shoulder. There was indeed something decidedly exciting going on. The two figures who had been circling about the old log, watching each other like a couple of wild animals, were now wrestling together in a fierce encounter. How it had come about, the girls did not know, as none of them had been looking out when it began. But it was plainly a struggle for the possession of something that one of them had clutched tightly in his hand. Vaguely they could see it, danglingabout, as the contest went on. And each, in her secret heart, knew it to be the burlap bag—and its contents!
“Eileen!” cried Phyllis, turning sharply upon the other girl, “is one of those two—my brother Ted? Answer me—truthfully.”
“Yes—oh, yes!” panted Eileen.
“And is he in—danger?” persisted Phyllis.
“Oh—I’m afraid so!”
“Then I’m going out to help him!” declared Phyllis, courageously. “Come, Leslie—and bring Rags!”
Leslie never afterward knew how it happened—that she, a naturally timid person, should have walked out of that house, unhesitatingly and unquestioningly, to do battle with some unknown enemy in the storm and the dark. If she had had any time to think about it, she might have faltered. But Phyllis gave her no time. With Rags at their heels, they snatched up some wraps and all suddenly burst out of the front door onto the veranda, Phyllishaving stopped only long enough to take up her electric torch from the living-room table. She switched this on in the darkness, and, guided by its light, they plunged into the storm.
The force of the wind almost took their breath away. And as they plowed along, Leslie was horrified to notice that the tide had crept almost up to the level of the old log and was within sixty feet of the bungalow. “Oh, whatshallwe do if it comes much higher!” she moaned to herself. But from that moment on, she had little time for such considerations.
Phyllis had plunged ahead with the light, and the two other girls followed her in the shadow. Leslie was somewhat hampered in her advance, as she was holding Rags by his collar and he strongly objected to the restraint. But she dared not let him loose just then.
Suddenly they were plunged in utter darkness. Phyllis’s torch had given out! And the two others, reaching her side at that instant,heard her gasp, “Oh, dreadful! Can anything be the matter with this battery?” But after a moment’s manipulation the light flashed on again. It was in this instant that they saw the face of Ted, lying on the ground and staring up at them while his assailant held him firmly pinned beneath him in an iron grip.
“Help!” shrieked Ted, above the roar of the wind. “Let Rags loose!”
They needed no other signal. Leslie released her hold on the impatient animal, and with a snarl that was almost unnerving, he darted, straight as an arrow, for Ted’s assailant.
The girls never knew the whole history of that encounter. They only realized that Ted finally emerged from a whirling medley of legs and arms, limping but triumphant, and strove to loosen the dog’s grip on a man who was begging to be released.
“That’ll do, Rags, old boy! You’ve done the trick! Good old fellow! Now you canlet go!” he shouted at the dog, trying to persuade him to loosen his hold. But Rags was obdurate. He could see no point in giving up the struggle at this interesting juncture.
“Call him off!” Ted shouted to the girls, “I can’t make him let go!”
“Is itsafe?” cried Phyllis, in answer.
“We’ll have to take a chance!” he answered. “He’s half killing this fellow!”
With beating heart Leslie came into the range of the light, grasped Rags by the collar and pulled at him with all her might. “Come Rags! Let go! It’s all right!”
The dog gave way reluctantly. And when he had at length loosed his terrible grip and was safely in Leslie’s custody, the man scrambled to his feet, rose, held on to his arm with his other hand, and groaned.
And, despite his disheveled condition and his drenched appearance, in the glare of the electric torch the girls recognized him, with a start of amazement. It was the fisherman of the afternoon—the man with the former limp!
In the glare of the electric torch the girls recognized him
He turned immediately on Ted with an angry, impatient gesture. “Well, the other fellow got it—after all! I don’t know what businessyouhad in this concern, but you spoiled the trick for me—and didn’t do yourself any good! And if that dog gives me hydrophobia, I’ll sue the whole outfit of you! He beat it off in that direction—the other fellow. I saw that much. I can’t lose any time, though what I need is a doctor.”
And with another angry snort, he disappeared into the darkness and the hurricane.
CHAPTER XVIIEILEEN EXPLAINS
It was an amazed, bewildered, and sheepish group that faced each other in the light of the electric torch after the departure of the unknown man. Phyllis was the first to recover self-possession.
“Well, we might as well go indoors,” she remarked, in her decided way. “There’s evidently nothing to be gained by staying out here in the storm!”
The others, still too benumbed in mind to have any initiative of their own, followed her obediently. Only when they were at the door did Leslie arouse to the immediate urgencies.
“Do please be very quiet and not wake Aunt Marcia!” she begged. “I’m afraid the effecton her would be very bad if she were to realize all that has happened here.”
They entered the bungalow on tiptoe, removed their drenched wraps, and sank down in the nearest chairs by the dying fire.
“And now,” remarked Phyllis, constituting herself spokesman, as she threw on a fresh log and some smaller sticks, “we’d be awfully obliged to you, Ted and Eileen, if you’ll kindly explain what this mystery is all about!”
“I don’t see why under the sunyouhad to come butting into it!” muttered Ted, resentfully, nursing some bruises he had sustained in the recent fray.
“Please remember,” retorted Phyllis, “that if I hadn’t come butting into it—and Leslie and Rags,—you’d probably be very much the worse for wear at this moment!”
“That’s so! Forgive me, old girl! Youdiddo a fine piece of work—all of you. I’m just sore because the thing turned out so—badly. But what I really meant was that I can’t seehow you got mixed up in it at all—from the very beginning, I mean.”
“That’s precisely what we think aboutyou!” laughed Phyllis. “We’ve felt all along as if it wereouraffair and thatyouwere interfering. So I think we’d better have explanations all around!”
“Well, as a matter of fact, it’s Eileen’s affair, most of all, so I think she’d better do her explaining first,” Ted offered as a solution of the tangle.
They all looked toward Eileen, sitting cowered over the fire, and she answered their look with a startled gaze of her own.
“I—I don’t know whether I ought!” she faltered, turning to Ted. “Do you think I ought?”
“I guess you’d better!” he declared. “It’s got to a point where these folks seem to have some inside information of their own that perhaps might be valuable to you. How they got it, I can’t think. At any rate, there’ll be noharm done by it, I can vouch for that. So—just fire away!”
Thus adjured, Eileen drew a long breath and said hesitantly:
“I—I really don’t know just where to begin. A lot of it is just as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I think you all have heard that I have a grandfather who is very ill, in a hospital over in Branchville. He is the Honorable Arthur Ramsay, of Norwich, England. He has been for many years a traveler and explorer in China and India and Tibet. Early this year he had a severe attack of Indian fever and could not seem to recuperate, so he started for England, coming by way of the Pacific and America. When he got to the Atlantic coast, this last summer, some one recommended that he should try staying a few weeks at this beach; so he took a bungalow and spent part of the summer and autumn here, and thought he was much benefited.”
“Do excuse me for interrupting!” exclaimedPhyllis; “but was the bungalow he rented Curlew’s Nest?”
“Why, yes,” hesitated Eileen, with a startled glance at her “it—it was.”
“Then, do you mind telling me how it was that the name was so different?” persisted Phyllis. “Mrs. Danforth understood that she rented it to a Mr. Horatio Gaines.”
“Oh, that was because Grandfather didn’t want it in his own name, because, you see, he’s a rather well-known person in England and even over here, and he needed a complete rest, with no danger of having to be interviewed or called upon or anything like that. So he had his man, Geoffrey Horatio Gaines, hire the place, and transact all the business here inhisname. It saved Grandfather a lot of trouble, for Geoffrey simply took charge of everything; and as Grandfather never went among people here, no one was the wiser.
“After he left the cottage, he expected to go to New York and remain there till he sailedfor home. And hedidgo there for a few days, but his health at once grew worse, so he returned to the beach. Of course, the bungalow was closed by that time, so he took rooms at the hotel, farther along. It was there that I joined him. I had come over here with friends of Mother’s, earlier in the summer, and had been visiting at their summer camp in the Adirondacks until I should join Grandfather and return to England with him.
“I hadn’t been with him more than two or three days when I realized that something had gone awfully wrong, somehow or other. Grandfather was worried and upset about something, and he began to watch his mail and be anxious to avoid meeting any one. He couldn’t or wouldn’t explain things to me, but had long interviews with his man, Geoffrey, who has been with him for years and years and whom he trusts completely.
“At last, one awfully stormy night, about two weeks ago, Geoffrey disappeared, and hasnever been seen or heard of since. We can’t imagine what has become of him. And the next day Grandfather was so worried about him and the other troubles that a cold he had ran into a severe attack of pneumonia. Of course, it wasn’t feasible for him to remain at the hotel, especially as it was soon to close, so he had himself taken to the nearest good hospital, which happened to be this one at Branchville. Since he didn’t have Geoffrey to wait on him, he wanted to be where he could have the best attention and nursing, and as I could run his car, which Geoffrey had always done, I could get easily there to see him. Then, as you probably know, the hotel closed for the season, and the manager very kindly found me a place to stay—with Aunt Sally Blake—in the village. She has been very good and kind to me, but I expect I’ve worried her a lot, not because I didn’t care, but because I couldn’t help it and I couldn’t tell her about—things!
“But, oh! I have been so troubled—so fairlydesperate, at times! You cannot even guess the awful burden I’ve had to bear—and all alone,—at least till I came quite by accident to know your brother Ted. He has helped me so much—but that is another part of the story!
“One night Grandfather’s fever was very high and he was delirious. I begged his nurse to let me sit with him awhile, and I heard him constantly muttering about the bungalow, and Geoffrey hiding something there, and it being safe at Curlew’s Nest, and a lot more half-incoherent remarks of that kind. Next morning he was a little better and in his right mind again, so I asked him what he had meant by the things he had talked about the night before. And then he said:
“‘Eileen, I’ll have to trust you with some of the secret, I believe, since you’ve overheard what you have. Perhaps you may even be able to help, and of course I can trust you to keepyour own counsel—absolutely. There’s been a very mysterious mix-up here, and it involves far more than you may imagine. In fact, it might even become an affair of international moment—if something is not found, and quickly too. The gist of the matter is this: while I was in China last year, I had some informal correspondence with an official very high in government circles there, concerning his attitude in regard to the province of Shantung. As he was inclined to be very friendly toward me at the time he was just a little expansive and indiscreet (I think those were Grandfather’s words) in regard to his Government’s plans. Later, I think, he regretted this, and made some half-joking overtures to have his letters returned. But I pretended not to understand him and the matter was dropped. As a matter of fact, I thought them too suggestive and important to my own Government to part with them!’
“It is these letters that are the heart of thewhole trouble, Grandfather says. He heard nothing more about them till he came to stay at the hotel here. Then he received a very threatening letter, declaring that if this packet was not returned to the writer, serious consequences would result. It didn’t saywhatconsequences, but Grandfather suspected they might even go as far as an attempt on his life. But he was determined not to give up the letters. You see, they concerned a matter that might involve his own country with China, and he felt they should be delivered to his own Government. Beside that, he is just stubborn enough not to be bullied into anything by threats.
“His man Geoffrey tried to persuade him to put the letters in a safe-deposit vault in New York, but Grandfather says he is old-fashioned in some things and doesn’t trust even to safe-deposit boxes—says he prefers to keep things he values in his own possession. He had the letters in a queer little bronze boxthat was given him, years ago, by the late Empress Dowager of China. It had a secret lock that was quite impossible to open unless one knew the trick. He carried this in his pocket, and slept with it under his pillow at night, and felt perfectly safe about it.”
Here Eileen paused a moment for breath, and the two other girls glanced at each other guiltily, but they said nothing. Then Eileen went on:
“One night, just after I came, there was an attempt to rob him at the hotel. The attempt failed because Geoffrey happened to be awake and discovered some one prowling about Grandfather’s sitting-room. Whoever it was escaped through the window without even his face being seen, and there was no trace of him later. Grandfather made Geoffrey keep the thing quiet and not report it to the hotel, because he didn’t want any publicity about the matter. But he decided then that it would be safer to have the thing hidden somewhere for atime—in some place where no one would dream of hunting for it. And it struck him that down at the bungalow where he had spent those quiet weeks, and which he supposed was all shut up and deserted, would be as unlikely a spot as any to be suspected of hiding such a thing. He supposed that the one next door—this one—was closed also, or I do not think he would have considered that hiding-place.
“So the next night, which happened to be one when there was a very hard storm, he sent Geoffrey down to the bungalow with the little box containing the letters. He did not wish him to take the car, as it might be too conspicuous, but had him go on foot. Geoffrey had found out, during the summer, that one could get into that place through a door at the side by working at the hook through the crack with a knife-blade, and he intended to get into the cottage and conceal the box in some out-of-the-way hiding-place there.
“But here is where the mystery begins.Geoffrey set off that night, but has never been seen or heard of since. What has happened to him, we cannot imagine, unless he was caught and taken a prisoner by some one concerned in getting those letters. If he had been killed, we would surely know it. Yet if he were alive, it seems as if we should have heard from him, somehow. He was a most devoted and faithful and trustworthy soul, so we are sure that something must have happened to him—that he is being detained somewhere. Grandfather is quite certain that he is guarding the secret of that box, somehow, and that it would be best to wait till he comes back or sends us some word.
“What Grandfather asked me to do was to run out here in the car some day, and, if there was no one about, to scout around and see if I could discover any clue to the mystery, without attracting attention. He supposed, of course, that the beach was by that time entirely deserted. I came out the very next day, butfound to my disgust that the cottage next door was occupied—by you, as I now know! But I felt it would not be wise to be seen about here in the daytime, so, without saying anything to Grandfather (who would be awfully upset if he knew it), I determined to run out about ten o’clock that night and scout around when you people would probably be in bed.
“And here is where Ted comes into it! I got here that night as I had planned, found no one about, and tried the experiment of getting into the side door, as Grandfather had explained, but I found it very difficult; in fact, quite impossible—forme!And while I was fussing with it, I was suddenly startled by a low voice, right behind me, inquiringverypolitely what I was trying to do! It was Ted, here, who had been out for a stroll, and happening to catch a glimpse of me at this very peculiar occupation, and naturally thinking I was a burglar, had come up unobserved to find out about it!
“You can just imagine what anawfulposition it was for me! I did not know what to say or what to do. I know that, legally, I had no business there, and if he were inclined to make a fuss about it, he could have me arrested. I literally almost went out of my mind at that moment. But I guess something must have made him feel that I wasn’t really a ‘lady burglar’ or anything of that sort, for he just said, very kindly, ‘If you are in trouble, perhaps I can help you!’
“I didn’t see how he could possibly help me unless he knew the whole story, and I thought I ought not tell any onethat!But unless I did, I was certainly in a very terrible position. So I suddenly made up my mind it would have to be done, for something made me feel he was honorable and trustworthy, and that the secret would be safe with him. What made me feel all the more sure was that he mentioned that he was staying up the beach at his father’s bungalow, and had happened to be out for awalk and had seen me there. I know he said it to make me feel easier, and that everything was all right.
“So I told him as much as I could of the story. And when he had heard it, he said: ‘I happen to know all about opening that door, because I know the people who own the cottage very well. Perhaps you had better let me try.’ I said I’d be only too glad to, and he had the door unfastened in a moment. Then he told me to go in and examine the place all I wished to and he would watch outside. If I needed any help, I could call and he would come in and do what he could for me.
“Well, I went in and examined the whole place with my electric torch, but I could not discover a single thing except that one of the bricks in the fireplace had been partly loosened and a broken knife-blade was in the corner of the chimney-place. It was the only thing I could see to show that possibly Geoffrey hadbeen there. I thought the knife-blade looked like one I had seen him use.
“But as I didn’t see a sign of the bronze box, I knew it was useless to stay any longer, so I came out. Ted fastened the door again, went with me to the car, which I had left down the road, and offered to give me any further help he could, at any time. He promised to keep the secret from every one, and said that he would make an even more thorough search over Curlew’s Nest, if I wished, because he had much better opportunity to do so. Of course, I agreed to that and went on back to Aunt Sally’s.
“Two days later, Ted saw my car going along one of the back roads near the village, signaled to me, and told me that, the day before, he had caught you girls coming out of Curlew’s Nest and that you acted rather guilty and refused to explain what you had been in there for. He told me that you might possibly suspect something, and to steer clear ofyou if we should happen to encounter each other, as it is always likely that people will, in this town. He described what you both looked like, so that I couldn’t fail to know you.
“And, sure enough, I met you both that very morning, in Mrs. Selby’s little store, and I expect you think I acted in a perfectly abominable manner. I just hated to do it, for I liked the looks of you both, but I felt I must take no chances. Ted also told me that he had been in Curlew’s Nest the night before and had gone over the place very carefully once more, but had found nothing except a string of beads that had been torn from the fringe of my girdle that other night, and had been lying on the floor. I remember that the girdle caught when I was looking under one of the bureaus. He also gave me the broken penknife-blade to keep, as he said it was best to leave nothing around there that any one else could discover and use as a clue.
“A day or two later I met you, Phyllis, atAunt Sally’s and shewouldinsist on introducing us, though I could see you were no more anxious to make the acquaintance, after the way I’d acted, than I was. But I encountered Ted again that afternoon, and he said he had hunted me up to tell me he had news and also a plan that he wanted to suggest. He said he had noticed, during the last two or three days, a strange man who seemed to haunt the beach, just a short way off and out of sight of the two bungalows. The man seemed to be a very ardent fisherman,—and an expert one, too,—but Ted had noticed that he kept a very sharp lookout toward the bungalows when he thought no one was around to see. He suspected that perhaps this man had something to do with the mystery.
“The plan he suggested was that I get acquainted with you girls, after all, in some way that seemed the most natural, but without letting you know that I was also acquainted withhim. And when I had done so, I had betteroffer to take you all out for a long drive in the car and keep you away a good while, and give him a chance to see what this man was up to—if anything.
“The getting acquainted was easy, and you all know how I managedthat—and also the ride, a day or two later. When I was returning from the ride that night, at dusk, Ted signaled me from the bushes near Curlew’s Nest, jumped into the car, and told me what had happened in the afternoon. He had gone off to the village first, then hurried back, slipped up here by way of the creek, and hidden himself in a clump of rushes across the road. Just as he had suspected, he saw his suspicious fisherman sneak up here after a while, scout around the outside of the bungalow, disappear into it for a time, by the side door, come out, apparently empty-handed, stare at the outside again for a long time, and then at your bungalow, and finally disappear. But that was not all.
“He waited where he was a few minutes, thinking possibly the man might come back, and he was just about to come out, when along came an automobile withtwomen in it, which stopped directly in front of Curlew’s Nest. He could not see their faces, for they had slouch hats pulled far down on their heads. They got out and walked about a bit, evidently to see if any one was around. Then, thinking themselves alone, they hurried up to the bungalow, worked at the side door, and finally got in. Shortly after, they came out again and walked down to the beach, where he could not see them. Then they came back, got into the car, and drove off.
“By that time it was growing so late that he concluded he would stay where he was and wait for me to come back, which he did. Before he left me, we had a slight breakdown, and in helping me fix it, he hurt his hand. But that same night, long after midnight, he got into Curlew’s Nest again to see if he could findout what had happened, and he found a very strange message left on the table—a type-written warning to the one who had taken the article (as it was called!) from its hiding-place to return it, and underneath, a printed note in pencil, saying it would be returned. He thought probably the first man had left the type-written part, and the other two had printed the answer underneath. That was all he could make of it.
“It was all very mysterious, but while we couldn’t make much out of it, at least it showed that something concerning the affair was going on and that the place must be closely watched. Ted volunteered to keep this watch. Meanwhile, Grandfather had had a very bad turn and I was with him constantly. He was terribly depressed over the whole affair. Even his doctor, who knows nothing about this, said he was evidently worrying about something, and if the cause of worry were not removed, he doubted the possibility of recovery. TonightI stayed with him later than usual, and in returning, actually did lose my way in the storm. But when I at last discovered where I was, I knew that it was not far from here and could not resist the temptation to come over and see if anything was happening. I found Ted also scouting around, and suddenly we realized that some one else was on the ground too, though we could not tellwho, in the darkness and rain. But Ted thought it very dangerous for me to be out there, so he made me come in here, as I did. And I need not tell you what happened after that!”
Eileen ceased speaking, and Phyllis had just opened her lips to say something when there was a knock at the door. All four jumped nervously, but Ted got up and went to open it.
To their immense alarm, the opened door revealed the figure of—“the man with the limp!”
CHAPTER XVIIITHE DRAGON GIVES UP THE SECRET
THE man also started back at the sight of all four of them together. And Rags, who had been drying himself quietly by the fire, rose with a snarl and leaped toward his enemy of the earlier part of the evening.
“Heavens! don’t let that animal loose on me again!” cried the man, backing off. “I’ve just been down to the village doctor and had my arm cauterized, as it is. I stopped in to tell you something you’d better know. Probably you haven’t noticed it, if you haven’t looked out recently. The water is rising rapidly and will soon be very nearly up to your bungalow. You may want to get out before it sweeps under it!”
With a cry of alarm, they all leaped toward the door, Ted grasping Rags firmly by the collar. It was even as the man had said. Peering through the darkness, they could see the water spreading inward from a recent breaker, only about twenty-five feet from the veranda. And the next breaker spread in even a few inches further.
“Whatshallwe do?” cried Leslie. “Aunt Marcia will be frightened to death if she knows it, and how I’m to get her out of here in this howling storm, or where I can take her, I can’t imagine!”
But Ted had been critically examining the weather. “Don’t worry, Leslie!” he soothed her. “The wind is shifting. I noticed just now that it seemed to be around to the north and is getting farther west also. That means the storm is almost over. And the tide ought to turn in ten minutes or so. It’s practically at its highest now. Ten chances to one it won’t rise more than a foot or two further.But we’ll keep watch, and if it does, we’ll get your aunt out of here in Eileen’s car, which is just down the road, and take her either to our place or to the village. Our bungalow isn’t likely to be damaged, as it’s farther up the dune than these. Don’t worry!”
Thus encouraged, Leslie turned indoors again, and the man, who was still lingering on the porch, remarked:
“If it isn’t too much trouble, friends, I’d like to come in for a minute or two and ask you folks a few questions about that little fracas this evening and how you came to be mixed up in it. It’s all right and perfectly proper!” he hastened to add, seeing their startled glances. “I can show you my credentials.” He opened his coat and exhibited a shield on his vest—the shield of a detective of the New York police force!
So amazed were they that they could scarcely reply, but the man took matters in his own hands and walked into the house. And Leslienever even thought to warn him to speak softly because of Aunt Marcia!
Unconsciously they grouped themselves about him at the open fire. And Rags, now that the obnoxious stranger had been admitted to the house on a hospitable footing, made no further demonstrations of enmity.
“My name is Barnes—Detective Barnes of the New York force,” he began, “and I’d like to clear up one or two little puzzles here before I go on with this business. It’s a rather peculiar one. I heard this young gentleman refer to a car that was standing in the road near here and say it belonged to one of you young ladies named Eileen. I’d like to inform Miss Eileen that the party who got that little article we were all scrapping for to-night, jumped into her car when he got to the road, tore like mad in it to the station, left it there, and caught the express for New York. I was just in time to see him disappearing in it, but of courseIhad to walk to the village. Isuspected what he was going to do, though, and I went straight to the station and found the car standing there. So I took the liberty of getting in it, driving myself to the village doctor, and then back out here. You will find your car, Miss Eileen, standing just where you left it, but I thought you’d like to know it had had the little adventure!”
Eileen opened her mouth to reply, but the man gave her no chance, turning immediately to Ted. “And as for you, young man, I suppose you thought you were doing a wonderful stunt when you landed into me to-night, just as I’d unearthed the thing I’ve been on the trail of for a week; but I’ll have to tell you that you’ve spoiled one of the prettiest little pieces of detective work I’ve undertaken for several years, and may have helped to precipitate a bit of international trouble, beside. I don’t know what your motive was,—I suppose you thought me a burglar,—but—
“Just a moment!” cried Eileen, springingforward. “Tell me, why are you concerned in this? My name is Ramsay and I have a right to ask!”
Detective Barnes was visibly startled. “Are you a relative of the Honorable Arthur Ramsay?” he demanded; and when she had told him, he exclaimed: “Then you must know all about Geoffrey Gaines and how he disappeared!”
“I’ve known him since I was a baby,” she answered; “but how he disappeared is still an awful mystery to us. My grandfather is very ill in the Branchville hospital, you know.”
“But didn’t he receive my letter?” cried Mr. Barnes. “I sent it two days ago!”
“He has been too ill to read any mail for the last two days,” replied Eileen, “and, of course, I have not opened it.”
“Well, that explains why I haven’t heard from him!” the man exclaimed, with a sigh of relief. “Then I guess you will be interested to hear that Gaines is alive and well, but kepta close prisoner by some heathen Chinese in a house on a west side street in New York.”
“But how?—Why?—Did it happen the—the night he—came down here?” she ventured.
“I see you’re pretty well informed about the matter,” he remarked cautiously. “And if these others are equally so, I guess it’s safe for me to go on and give you a history of the thing.”
Eileen nodded, and he went on:
“Gaines and I used to know each other in England, years before he entered your grandfather’s service. In fact, we had been schoolmates together. Then I came over to this country and entered the detective service, and he went into another walk of life. But we kept in touch with each other by writing occasionally. A week or so ago I was astonished to receive a letter from him, written on all sorts of odds and ends of paper and in an envelope plainly manufactured by himself. It contained some very singular news.
“It gave me first the history of those letters and how anxious your grandfather was to keep hold of them. Then it told how he (Gaines) had taken the box down here that night and tried first to conceal it in the bungalow. But no place in the house seemed safe enough to him. He tried to dig up a brick in the fireplace and bury it there, but gave it up after he had broken his knife in the attempt. Then he had the inspiration to bury it in the sand somewhere outside, and he described where hedidlocate it, right by that log. If Gaines had known much about the tides here, he wouldn’t have thought that a very good scheme. He didn’t, though, and thought he’d found an excellent place. He then turned to walk back to the hotel, but hadn’t gone more than a mile (it was storming hard, if you remember) when a terrific blow on the back of the head knocked him senseless. He never knew another thing until he came to, after what must have been a number of days, to find himself a prisoner in ahouse he judged to be somewhere in New York. And from his description I’ve located it about west Sixty-first street.
“He appeared to be in the keeping of a Chinaman who dressed American fashion and spoke good English. He was told that he was a prisoner and that it was hopeless to try to communicate with any one until he had reported exactly where and how those letters had been concealed. He begged for a day or two to consider the matter and was granted it, but told that if he did not comply with their wishes he would disappear for good and no one would ever be the wiser.
“In the meantime, he managed to get together a few scraps of paper, and with the stub of a pencil he happened to have about him, he wrote this letter to me, describing the location of the letters and how he had hidden them in a bronze box wrapped in a burlap bag. He urged me to go and get them at once, and then, later, he could safely describe to his captorswhere he had hidden them. Perhaps you wonder how he expected to get this letter to me, since he was so carefully guarded. He said that he was on the third floor, front, of the house, near a corner where he could see a post-box. He happened to have a solitary stamp in his pocket, which he put on the letter. Then, at some hour when he thought his captors were busy elsewhere, he expected to attract the attention of some children playing in the street and offer to throw them some money if they would mail the letter in the nearby box. As I received the letter, no doubt his plan worked successfully. At any rate, I got it a week ago and started on the trail immediately.
“I landed out here one morning while it was still dark, and dug all around the spot mentioned, but couldn’t find a trace of the bag or box.”
“Oh, I saw you that morning!” cried Leslie. “But when you walked away you seemed tostoop and had a bad limp! I don’t understand!”
“I know you saw me,” he smiled, “or, at least, thatsomeone did, for as I happened to glance back at this house, it was growing just light enough for me to realize there was some one watching at the window. So I adopted that stoop and limp as I walked away, just so you would not be likely to recognize me if you saw me again. It is a ruse I’ve often practised.”
“But it didn’t workthattime,” laughed Leslie, “for I recognized you again this afternoon by the way you dusted the sand off your hands and threw away the stick!”
“Well, you are certainly a more observing person than most people!” he answered gravely. “But to go on. Of course, I was very much disappointed, but I remained here, staying at the village hotel, and kept as close a watch on the place as was possible, pretending all the time that I was here on a fishingexcursion. I tried very hard to keep out of sight of these bungalows, in the daytime, anyway. The day you all went off on the auto ride the coast seemed clear, and I went through the place. But I hadn’t been out of it long and walked down to the beach, when I saw the two men drive up in a car and enter the bungalow also, and later come out to dig by that old log. Of course, they didn’t see me about! I took care of that. And I knew, beyond a doubt, that they were Gaines’s Chinamen, come to find the booty.
“Of course they didn’t find it, any more than I had, and I felt sure they would go back and make it hot for Gaines, and I judged that he would probably try to gain time in some way. I went back to my hotel that night to think it all over and make further plans, and didn’t visit the bungalow again till next evening, when I found to my astonishment a queer note, type-written, on the table there—a warning that the article stolen from its hiding-place had better be returned. And under it, a reply,printed in lead-pencil, saying it would be returned.”
“I couldn’t make head or tail of the business. I judged the type-written part to have been left by the Chinese. But who had scribbled the other was a dark-brown mystery. At any rate, I concluded that to-night would probably be the crucial time, and determined to get in ahead of every one else. The storm was a piece of good fortune to me, as it concealed things so well, and about nine o’clock I was on the spot, proceeding to dig down by the old log. Pretty soon I realized, though, that there was some one else around. And just as I’d unearthed the bag, whichhadbeen mysteriously returned to its hiding-place, you appeared out of somewhere, young man, fell on me like a thousand of bricks, and we had a grand old tussle. I’ll give you credit for beingsomewrestler, but I was getting the best of it, when along came you others with that terrible beast and did the business for me!
“I thought all along, though, that you, Mr. Ted, were one of the Chinamen. But that person must have been on the scene also, probably lurking in the shelter of the bungalow and watching the fracas. And when your electric light blazed on the scene, Miss,” he turned to Phyllis, “he no doubt saw the bag in my hand. Then, when the light went out for a moment, he rushed in and grabbed the prize and was off while we two were so busy with one another!
“It was a losing game all around. While I was in the village, I ’phoned my department in New York to meet his train when it got in and arrest him, if they could find him, and search him at once. But after I’d been to the doctor’s (I had a long session there) I ’phoned them again and heard that the train had been met, but no one answering such description as I could give had got off. No doubt he was canny enough to get off at some station short of New York and so was lost to sight.
“Well, the prize is lost for this time, but perhaps we can pick up the trail again. At any rate, Gaines is probably free, for they promised to release him as soon as the letters were obtained.”
When he had ceased speaking, Leslie got up from her chair and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned, she laid a dark bundle in the lap of Eileen.
“I guess the prize was found some time ago!” she remarked quietly. “Suppose you open that bag and see, Eileen!”
And amid an astounded silence, Eileen’s fingers managed to unloose the fastening of the bag and insert themselves in its depths. Then with a little cry of joy, she drew out and held up, for all to view, the bronze box that had caused all the disturbance—the Dragon’s Secret!
The complicated explanations were all over at last, and the curious, fragmentary story waspieced together. Detective Barnes took up the little bronze box and examined it carefully, experimenting, as they all had done, to find a way of opening it—and, of course, unsuccessfully.
“There’s one thing that puzzles me, though,” remarked Ted, “about that queer type-written note. How and why and by whom was it left originally?”
“It was written on thin, foreign-looking paper,” replied the detective, “and I can only guess that the foreigners left it there, though probably not on their first trip that afternoon. No doubt they either went to the village, or, more likely, returned to the city to talk it over, perhaps with Gaines. And he, supposing I had long since captured the prize, and to put them off the scent, suggested that some one nearby may have been meddling with the matter and that they leave a warning for them. I feel rather certain he must have done this to gain time, for he knew that if I had foundthe thing, I would immediately set about having him released, and he must have wondered why I hadn’t done so. Perhaps he thought I was having difficulty locating the house where they had him hidden. But, Great Scott!—that makes me think!—They must by this time have discovered the trick you played, Miss Phyllis, and be jumping mad over having been so fooled. Perhaps they think Gaines is responsible for it, and they’ll certainly be making it hot forhim!I must get to the city immediately and get him out of that hole. Oughtn’t to waste another minute. If you can spare your car, Miss Eileen, I’d like to run up to the city with it, as I know there are no more trains to-night. I’ll guarantee to fetch it and Gaines both back in the morning!”
“You certainly may have it,” replied Eileen, “and you may take me with you and leave me at the hospital, on the way. Grandfather must know of this at once. I’m positive he’llrecover now, since the worry is all over. But first, wouldn’t you all like to see something? I happen to know the secret of opening this box. Grandfather showed it to me when I was a little girl, and he used to let me play with it.”
She took a pin from her dress, inserted it into the carved eye of the dragon and pressed it in a certain fashion—and the lid of the bronze box flew up! They all pressed forward eagerly and gazed in. There lay the packet of foreign letters, safe and sound. Eileen lifted them and looked curiously underneath. Nothing else was in the box except some strange, thin bits of yellow, foreign paper covered with vague pictures and curious Chinese characters. They seemed to be so thin and old as to be almost falling to pieces.
“I don’t know whatthesethings are,” she remarked, “but they probably have nothing to do with this affair, anyway. Grandfather was always picking up queer old thingson his travels. But he must have thought them interesting, or he never would have kept them in here. But we must go now,” she ended, closing the box. “And I’ll see you dear people all to-morrow. This has surely been a wonderful night!”
But just as she was ready to go, she said: “Do show me the dusty shelf where this was hidden, please!” And then, as she stood gazing up at it, she exclaimed, “To think that it lay here behind those worn-out old kitchen things all the time we were so madly hunting for it! But perhaps it was the safest place, after all!”
The two girls escorted Eileen and Mr. Barnes to the door, Ted offering to see them to the car. As they came out on the porch, Leslie uttered a little cry of delight. The storm, which all had momentarily forgotten in the later excitement, was over. The ragged clouds were driving by in a strong northwest wind, and a few stars could be seen peepingthrough the rifts, while, best of all, the water had already retreated several feet, though the crash of the breakers was still tremendous.
As Leslie and Phyllis returned to the room, they were startled to see Aunt Marcia, in a dressing-gown, peering out of the door of her room and blinking sleepily.
“What on earth are you two girls doing up at this unearthly hour?” she inquired. “I woke and thought I heard voices and came out to see!”
“Oh, we’ve been talking and watching the storm!” laughed Leslie. “It’s all over now, and the stars are shining. You’d better go back to bed, Aunt Marcia. The fire’s out and it’s very chilly!”
And as the good lady turned back into her room Leslie whispered to Phyllis, “And she slept through allthat—and never knew! How can I be thankful enough!”