THE TREASURE HUNT

THE TREASURE HUNT

Had we not been so anxious about our dear Tish last summer, I dare say it would never have happened. But even Charlie Sands noticed when he came to our cottage at Lake Penzance for the week-end that she was distinctly not her old self.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “She’s lost her pep, or something. I’ve been here two days and she hasn’t even had a row with Hannah, and I must say that fuss with old Carpenter yesterday really wasn’t up to her standard at all.”

Old Carpenter is a fisherman, and Tish having discovered that our motor boat went better in reverse than forward, he had miscalculated our direction and we had upset him.

As it happened, that very evening Tish herself confirmed Charlie’s fears by asking about Aggie’s Cousin Sarah Brown’s Chelsea teapot.

“I think,” she said, “that a woman of my age should have a hobby; one that will arouse interestat the minimum of physical exertion. And the collection of old china——”

“Oh, Tish!” Aggie wailed, and burst into tears.

“I mean it,” said Tish, “I have reached that period of my life which comes to every woman, when adventure no longer lurks around the next corner. By this I do not refer necessarily to amorous affairs, but to dramatic incidents. I think more than I did of what I eat. I take a nap every day. I am getting old.”

“Never!” said Aggie valiantly.

“No? When I need my glasses nowadays to see the telephone directory!”

“But they’re printing the names smaller, Tish.”

“Yes, and I dare say my arm is getting shorter also,” she returned with a sad smile. She pursued the subject no further, however, but went on knitting the bedroom slippers which are her yearly contribution to the Old Ladies’ Home, leaving Charlie Sands to gaze at her thoughtfully as he sipped his blackberry cordial.

But the fact is that Tish had outgrown the cottage life at Penzance, and we all knew it. Save for an occasional golf ball from the links breaking a window now and then, and the golfers themselves who brought extra shoes done up in paper for us to keep for them, paying Hannah somethingto put them on the ice, there was nothing to rouse or interest her.

Her mind was as active as ever; it was her suggestion that a clothespin on Aggie’s nose might relieve the paroxysms of her hay fever, and she was still filled with sentiment. It was her own idea on the anniversary of Mr. Wiggins’ demise to paint the cottage roof a fresh and verdant green as a memorial to him, since he had been a master roofer by profession.

But these had been the small and simple annals of her days. To all outward seeming, until the night of the treasure hunt, our Tish was no longer the Tish who with our feeble assistance had captured the enemy town of X—— during the war, or held up the band of cutthroats on Thundercloud, or led us through the wilderness of the Far West. An aëroplane in the sky or the sound of the Smith boys racing along in their stripped flivver may have reminded her of brighter days, but she said nothing.

Once, indeed, she had hired a horse from the local livery stable and taken a brief ride, but while making a short cut across the Cummings estate the animal overturned a beehive. Although Tish, with her customary presence of mind, at once headed the terrified creature for the swimming pool, where a number of persons were bathingand sunning themselves in scanty apparel about the edge, the insects forsook the beast the moment horse and rider plunged beneath the surface and a great many people were severely stung. Indeed, the consequences threatened to be serious, for Tish was unable to get the horse out again and it was later necessary to bring a derrick from Penzance to rescue him. But her protests over the enormous bills rendered by the livery man were feeble, indeed, compared to the old days.

“Twenty dollars!” she said. “Are you claiming that that animal, which should have been able to jump over a beehive without upsetting it, was out ten hours?”

“That’s my charge,” he said. “Walk, trot and canter is regular rates, but swimming is double, and cheap at that. The next time you want to go out riding, go to the fish pier and I reckon they’ll oblige you. You don’t need a horse, lady. What you want is a blooming porpoise.”

Which, of course, is preposterous. There are no porpoises in Lake Penzance.

She even made the blackberry cordial that year, a domestic task usually left to Aggie and myself, but I will say with excellent results. For just as it was ready for that slight fermentation which gives it its medicinal quality, a very pleasant young man came to see us, having for sale afluid to be added to homemade cordials and so on, which greatly increased their bulk without weakening them.

“But how can one dilute without weakening?” Tish demanded suspiciously.

“I would not call it dilution, madam. It is really expansion.”

It was a clear colorless liquid with a faintly aromatic odor, which he said was due to juniper in it, and he left us a small bottle for experimental purposes.

With her customary caution, our dear Tish would not allow us to try it until it had been proved, and some days later Hannah reporting a tramp at the back door, she diluted—or rather expanded—a half glass of cordial, gave him some cookies with it, and we all waited breathlessly.

It had no ill effect, however. The last we saw of the person he was quite cheery; and, indeed, we heard later that he went into Penzance, and getting one of the town policemen into an alley, forced him to change trousers with him. As a matter of record, whether it was Tish’s efforts with the cordial itself, or the addition of the expansion matter which we later purchased in bulk and added, I cannot say. But I do know that on one occasion, having run out of gasoline, we poured a bottle of our blackberry cordial into thetank of the motor boat and got home very nicely indeed. I believe that this use of fruit juices has not heretofore been generally known.

Tish, I know, told it to Mr. Stubbs, the farmer who brought us our poultry, advising him to try cider in his car instead of feeding his apples to his hogs. But he only stared at her.

“Feed apples to hogs these days!” he said. “Why, lady, my hogs ain’t seen an apple for four years! They don’t know there is such a thing.”

Occupied with these small and homely duties then, we went on along the even tenor of our way through July and August, and even into September. In August, Charlie Sands sent us a radio, and thereafter it was our custom at 7:20A.M.to carry our comforters into Tish’s bedroom and do divers exercises in loose undergarments.

It is to this training that I lay Tish’s ability to go through the terrible evening which followed with nothing more serious than a crack in a floating rib.

And in September Charlie Sands himself week-ended with us, as I have said; with the result of a definite break in our monotony and a revival of Tish’s interest in life which has not yet begun to fade.

Yet his visit itself was uneventful enough. It was not until Mrs. Ostermaier’s call on Saturdayevening that anything began to develop. I remember the evening most distinctly. Our dear Tish was still in her dressing gown, after a very unpleasant incident of the morning, when she had inflated a pair of water wings and gone swimming. Unluckily, when some distance out she had endeavored to fasten the water wings with a safety pin to her bathing garments and the air at once began to escape. When Charlie Sands reached the spot only a few bubbles showed where our unfortunate Tish had been engulfed. She had swallowed a great deal of water, and he at once suggested bailing her out.

“By and large,” he said, “I’ve been bailing you out for the last ten years. Why not now?”

But she made no response save to say that she had swallowed a fish. “Get me a doctor,” she said thickly. “I can feel the thing wriggling.”

“Doctor nothing!” he told her. “What you need is a fisherman, if that’s the case.”

But she refused to listen to him, saying that if she was meant to be an aquarium she would be one; and seeing she was firm, he agreed.

“Very well,” he said cheerfully. “But why not do the thing right while you’re about it? How about some pebbles and a tadpole or two?”

The result of all this was that Tish, although later convinced there was no fish, was in an uncertainmood that evening as we sat about the radio. She had, I remember, got Chicago, where a lady at some hotel was singing By the Waters of Minnetonka. Turning away from Chicago, she then got Detroit, Michigan, and a woman there was singing the same thing.

Somewhat impatiently, she next picked up Atlanta, Georgia, where a soprano was also singing it, and the same thing happened with Montreal, Canada. With a strained look, our dear Tish then turned to the national capital, and I shall never forget her expression when once more the strains of Minnetonka rang out on the evening air.

With an impatient gesture, she shoved the box away from her, and the various batteries and so on fell to the floor. And at that moment Mrs. Ostermaier came in breathless, and said that she and Mr. Ostermaier had just got Denver, and heard it quite distinctly.

“A woman was singing,” she said. “Really, Miss Carberry, we could hear every word. She was singing——”

“The Waters of Minnetonka?” asked Tish.

“Why, however did you guess it?”

It was probably an accident, but as Tish got up suddenly, her elbow struck the box itself, and the box fell with a horrible crash. Tish nevereven looked at it, but picked up her knitting and fell to work on a bedroom slipper, leaving Mrs. Ostermaier free to broach her plan.

For, as it turned out, she had come on an errand. She and Mr. Ostermaier wished to know if we could think of any way to raise money and put a radio in the state penitentiary, which was some miles away along the lake front.

“Think,” she said, “of the terrible monotony of their lives there! Think of the effect of the sweetness disseminated by Silver Threads Among the Gold or By the Waters of——”

“Mr. Wiggins always said that music had power to soothe the savage breast,” Aggie put in hastily. “Have you thought of any plan?”

“Mr. Ostermaier suggested that Miss Tish might think of something. She is so fertile.”

But Tish’s reaction at first was unfavorable.

“Why?” she said. “We’ve made our jails so pleasant now that there’s a crime wave so people can get into them.” But she added, “I’m in favor of putting one in every prison if they’d hire a woman to sing The Waters of Minnetonka all day and all night. If that wouldn’t stop this rush to the penitentiaries, nothing will.”

On the other hand, Charlie Sands regarded the idea favorably. He sat sipping a glass of cordial and thinking, and at last said:

“Why not? Think of an entire penitentiary doing the morning daily dozen! Or laying out bridge hands, according to radio instructions! Broaden ’em. Make ’em better citizens. Send ’em out fit to meet the world again. Darned good idea—Silver Threads Among the Gold for the burglars and Little Brown Jug for the bootleggers. Think of Still as the Night for the moonshiners, too, and the bedtime stories for the cradle snatchers. Why, it’s got all sorts of possibilities!”

He then said to leave it to him and he would think up something; and falling to work on the radio, soon had it in operation again. His speech had evidently had a quieting effect on Tish, and when the beautiful strains of The Waters of Minnetonka rang out once more she merely placed her hands over her ears and said nothing.

It was after his departure on Monday that he wrote us the following note, and succeeded in rousing our dear Tish:

“Beloved Maiden Ladies: I have been considering the problem of the radio for our unfortunate convicts. How about a treasure hunt—à la Prince of Wales—to raise the necessary lucre? I’ll write the clews and bury a bag of pennies—each entrant to pay five dollars, and the profits to go to the cause.“Oil up the old car and get out the knickerbockers, for it’s going to be a tough job. And don’t forget, I’m betting on you. Read the Murders in the Rue Morgue for clews and deductive reasoning. And pass me the word when you’re ready.Devotedly, C.S.”“P.S. My usual terms are 20 per cent, but will take two bottles of cordial instead. Please mark ‘Preserves’ on box.C.”

“Beloved Maiden Ladies: I have been considering the problem of the radio for our unfortunate convicts. How about a treasure hunt—à la Prince of Wales—to raise the necessary lucre? I’ll write the clews and bury a bag of pennies—each entrant to pay five dollars, and the profits to go to the cause.

“Oil up the old car and get out the knickerbockers, for it’s going to be a tough job. And don’t forget, I’m betting on you. Read the Murders in the Rue Morgue for clews and deductive reasoning. And pass me the word when you’re ready.

Devotedly, C.S.”

“P.S. My usual terms are 20 per cent, but will take two bottles of cordial instead. Please mark ‘Preserves’ on box.

C.”

We saw an immediate change in Tish from that moment. The very next morning we put on our bathing suits and, armed with soap and sponges, drove the car into the lake for a washing. Unluckily a wasp stung Tish on the bare knee as we advanced and she stepped on the gas with great violence, sending us out a considerable distance, and, indeed, rendering it necessary to crawl out and hold to the top to avoid drowning.

Here we were marooned for some time, until Hannah spied us and rowed out to us. It was finally necessary to secure three horses and a long rope to retrieve the car, and it was some days in drying out.

But aside from these minor matters, thingswent very well. Mr. Ostermaier, who was not to search, took charge of the hunt from our end and reported numerous entrants from among the summer colony, and to each entrant the following was issued:

1. The cars of the treasure hunters will meet at the Rectory on Saturday evening at eight o’clock.2. Each hunter will receive a password or sentence, and a sealed envelope containing the first clew.3. This clew found, another password and fresh sealed envelope will be discovered. And so on.4. There are six clews.5. Participants are requested to use care in driving about the country, as the local police force has given notice that it will be stationed at various points to prevent reckless driving.6. After the treasure is discovered, the hunt will please meet at the Rectory, where light refreshments will be served. It is requested that if possible the search be over before midnight in order not to infringe on the Sabbath day.

1. The cars of the treasure hunters will meet at the Rectory on Saturday evening at eight o’clock.

2. Each hunter will receive a password or sentence, and a sealed envelope containing the first clew.

3. This clew found, another password and fresh sealed envelope will be discovered. And so on.

4. There are six clews.

5. Participants are requested to use care in driving about the country, as the local police force has given notice that it will be stationed at various points to prevent reckless driving.

6. After the treasure is discovered, the hunt will please meet at the Rectory, where light refreshments will be served. It is requested that if possible the search be over before midnight in order not to infringe on the Sabbath day.

In view of the fact that certain persons, especially Mrs. Cummings—who should be the last to complain—have accused Tish of certainunethical acts during that terrible night, I wish to call attention to certain facts:

(a) We obeyed the above rules to the letter, save possibly Number Five.(b) There was no actual identification of the scissors.(c) If there was a box of carpet tacks in our car, neither Aggie nor I saw them.(d) The fish pier had been notoriously rotten for years.(e) We have paid for the repairs to the motorcycle, and so on.(f) Doctor Parkinson is not permanently lamed, and we have replaced his lamps.(g) Personally, knowing Tish’s detestation of cross-word puzzles, I believe the false clews were a joke on the part of others concerned.(h) We did that night what the local police and the sheriff from Edgewater had entirely failed to do, and risked our lives in so doing. Most of the attack is purely jealousy of Letitia Carberry’s astute brain and dauntless physical courage.

(a) We obeyed the above rules to the letter, save possibly Number Five.

(b) There was no actual identification of the scissors.

(c) If there was a box of carpet tacks in our car, neither Aggie nor I saw them.

(d) The fish pier had been notoriously rotten for years.

(e) We have paid for the repairs to the motorcycle, and so on.

(f) Doctor Parkinson is not permanently lamed, and we have replaced his lamps.

(g) Personally, knowing Tish’s detestation of cross-word puzzles, I believe the false clews were a joke on the part of others concerned.

(h) We did that night what the local police and the sheriff from Edgewater had entirely failed to do, and risked our lives in so doing. Most of the attack is purely jealousy of Letitia Carberry’s astute brain and dauntless physical courage.

I need say no more. As Tish observed to Charlie Sands the next day, when he came to see her, lifting herself painfully in her bed:

“I take no credit for following the clews; they were simplicity itself. And I shall pay all damages incurred. But who is to pay for this cracked rib and divers minor injuries, or replace poor Aggie’s teeth? Tell me that, and then get out and let me sleep. I’m an old woman.”

“Old!” said Charlie Sands. “Old! If you want to see an aged and a broken man, look at me! I shall have to put on a false mustache to get out of town.”

But to return to the treasure hunt.

On the eventful day we worked hard. By arrangement with Mr. Stubbs, our poultry man, he exchanged the license plates from his truck for ours in the morning, and these we put on, it being Tish’s idea that in case our number was taken by the local motor policeman, Mr. Stubbs could prove that he was in bed and asleep at the time. We also took out our tail light, as Tish said that very probably the people who could not unravel their clews would follow us if possible, and late in the afternoon, our arrangements being completed, Tish herself retired to her chamber with a number of envelopes in her hand.

Lest it be construed that she then arranged the cross-word puzzles which were later substituted for the real clews, I hasten to add that I believe,if I do not actually know, that she wrote letters concerning the missionary society at that time. She is an active member.

At 5:30 we had an early supper and one glass of cordial each.

“I think better on an empty stomach,” Tish said. “And I shall need my brains to-night.”

“If that’s what you think of Aggie and myself, we’d better stay at home,” I said sharply.

“I have not stated what I think of your brain, Lizzie, nor of Aggie’s either. Until I do, you have no reason for resentment.”

Peace thus restored, we ate lightly of tea, toast and lettuce sandwiches; and having donned our knickerbockers and soft hats, were ready for the fray. Aggie carrying a small flask of cordial for emergencies and I a flashlight and an angel-food cake to be left at the Rectory, we started out on what was to prove one of the most eventful evenings in our experience.

Tish was thoughtful on the way over, speaking occasionally of Poe and his system of deductive reasoning in solving clews, and also of Conan Doyle, but mostly remaining silent.

Aggie, however, was sneezing badly, due to the dust, and this annoying Tish, she stopped where some washing was hanging out and sent her in for a clothespin. She procured the pin, but wasdiscovered and chased, and undoubtedly this is what led later to the story that the bandits—of whom more later—had, before proceeding to the real business of the night, attempted to steal the Whitings’ washing.

But the incident had made Aggie very nervous and she took a second small dose of the cordial. Of this also more later on.

There was a large group of cars in front of the Rectory. The Smith boys had brought their flivver, stripped of everything but the engine and one seat for lightness, and the Cummingses, who are very wealthy, had brought their racer. Tish eyed them both with a certain grimness.

“Not speed, but brains will count, Lizzie,” she said to me. “What does it matter how fast they can go if they don’t know where they’re going?”

After some thought, however, she took off the engine hood and the spare tire and laid them aside, and stood gazing at Aggie, now fast asleep in the rear seat.

“I could leave her too,” she said. “She will be of no help whatever. But on the other hand, she helps to hold the rear springs down when passing over bumps.”

Mrs. Ostermaier then passed around glasses of lemonade, saying that every hunt drank a stirrup cup before it started, and Mr. Ostermaiergave us our envelopes and the first password, which was “Ichthyosaurus.”

It was some time before everyone had memorized it, and Tish utilized the moments to open her envelope and study the clew. The password, as she said, was easy; merely a prehistoric animal. The clew was longer:

“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.Two twos are four, though some say more, and i-n-k spells ink.”

“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.Two twos are four, though some say more, and i-n-k spells ink.”

“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.Two twos are four, though some say more, and i-n-k spells ink.”

“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.

Two twos are four, though some say more, and i-n-k spells ink.”

“Water?” I said. “That must be somewhere by the lake, Tish.”

“Nonsense! What’s to prevent your drinking the lake dry if you want to? I-n-k! It may be the stationer’s shop; but if it ever saw water, I don’t believe it. ‘Two twos are four, though some say more!’ Well, if they do, they’re fools, and so is Charlie Sands for writing such gibberish.”

What made matters worse was that the Smith boys were already starting off laughing, and two or three other people were getting ready to move. Suddenly Tish set her mouth and got into the car, and it was as much as I could do to crawl in before she had cut straight through the canna bed and out onto the road.

The Smith boys were well ahead, but we could still see their tail light, and we turned after them. Tish held the wheel tightly, and as we flew along she repeated the clew, which with her wonderful memory she had already learned by heart. But no light came to either of us, and at the crossroads we lost the Smith boys and were obliged to come to a stop. This we did rather suddenly, and Mr. Gilbert, who is a vestryman in our church, bumped into us and swore in a most unbefitting manner.

“Where the hell is your tail light?” he called furiously.

“You ought to know,” said Tish calmly. “Somewhere in your engine, I imagine.”

Well, it seemed that everyone had been following us, and no one except the Smith boys apparently knew where to go from there. And just then a policeman came out of the bushes and asked what the trouble was.

“Ichthyosaurus,” said Tish absently. “‘Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink. Two twos are four, though some say more, and——’”

“Don’t try to be funny with me,” he said. “For a cent I’d take the whole lot of you into town for obstructing traffic. You’ve been drinking, that’s what!”

And just then Aggie sat up in the back seat and said, “Drinking yourshelf! Go on, Tish,and run over him. He’sh a nuishance.”

Well, I will say her voice was somewhat thick, and the constable got on the running board and struck a match. But Tish was in her seat by that time, and she started the car so suddenly that he fell off into the road. As the other cars had to drive around him, this gave us a certain advantage; and we had soon left them behind us, but we still had no idea where to go. Matters were complicated also by the fact that Tish had now extinguished our headlights for fear of again being molested, and we were as often off the road as on it.

Indeed, once we brought up inside a barn, and were only saved from going entirely through it by our dear Tish’s quick work with the brakes; and we then had the agony of hearing the other cars pass by on the main road while we were backing away from the ruins of a feed cutter we had smashed.

We had also aroused a number of chickens, and as we could hear the farmer running out and yelling, there was nothing to do but to back out again. Just as we reached the highroad a load of buckshot tore through the top of the car, but injured nobody.

“Luckily he was shooting high,” said Tish as we drove on. “Lower, and he might have cut our tires.”

“Luckily!” said Aggie, from the rear seat. “He’sh taken the crown out of my hat, Tish Carberry! It was nish hat too. I loved my little hat. I——”

“Oh, keep still and go to sleep again,” said Tish. “‘Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink. Two twos are four, though some say more, and i-n-k spells ink.’”

“So it did when I went to school,” said Aggie, still drowsily. “I-n-k, ink; p-i-n-k, pink; s——”

Suddenly Tish put her foot on the gas and we shot ahead once more.

“Schoolhouse of course,” she said. “The schoolhouse by the water tower. I knew my subconscious mind would work it out eventually.”

Unfortunately, we were the last to get to the schoolhouse, and we had to witness the other cars streaming triumphantly down the road as we went up, shouting and blowing their horns. All but the Simmonses’ sedan, which had turned over in a ditch and which we passed hastily, having no time to render assistance.

Miss Watkins, the school-teacher, was on the porch, and as we drew up Tish leaped out.

“Pterodactyl!” she said.

“Warm, but not hot,” said Miss Watkins.

“Plesiosaurus!”

“The end’s all right.”

“Ichthyosaurus!” said Tish triumphantly, and received the envelope. Aggie, however, who had not heard the password given at the Ostermaiers’, had listened to this strange conversation dazedly and now burst into tears.

“There’sh something wrong with me, Lizzie!” she wailed. “I’ve felt queer ever since we started, and now they are talking and it doesn’t sound like sensh to me.”

It was some time before I was able to quiet her, but Tish had already received the second password, or sentence, which was “Prevention is better than cure, ting-a-ling,” and was poring over the next clew.

“Always first in danger, always last to go,Look inside the fire box and then you’ll know.”

“Always first in danger, always last to go,Look inside the fire box and then you’ll know.”

“Always first in danger, always last to go,Look inside the fire box and then you’ll know.”

“Always first in danger, always last to go,

Look inside the fire box and then you’ll know.”

I still think that had she taken sufficient time she could have located this second clew easily and without the trouble that ensued. But finding herself last when she is so generally first had irritated her, and she was also annoyed at Miss Watkins, it having been arranged that the last car was to take her back into town.

“Mr. Ostermaier said the clew’s in town anyhow. And he didn’t think the last car would have much chance, either,” she said.

“Who laughs last laughs best,” said Tish grimly, and started off at a frightful speed. Miss Watkins lost her hat within the first mile or two, but we could not pause, as a motorcycle policeman was now following close behind us. Owing to Tish’s strategy, however, for when he attempted to come up on the right of us she swerved in that direction and vice versa, we finally escaped him, an unusually sharp swerve of hers having caught him off guard, so to speak, and upset him.

Just when or where we lost Miss Watkins herself I have no idea. Aggie had again dozed off, and when we reached the town and slowed up, Miss Watkins was gone. She herself does not know, as she seems to have wandered for some time in a dazed condition before reaching home.

But to the hunt.

I still think our mistake was a natural one. One would think that the pass sentence, “Prevention is better than cure, ting-a-ling,” certainly indicated either a pharmacy or a medical man and a doorbell, and as Tish said, a fire box was most likely a wood box. There being only two doctors in the town, we went first to Doctor Burt’s, but he had already retired and spoke to us from an upper window.

“We want to examine your wood box,” Tish called.

“Wood box?” he said, in a stupefied voice. “What do you want wood for? A splint?”

“We’re hunting treasure,” said Tish sharply. “‘Prevention is better than cure, ting-a-ling.’”

The doctor closed the window violently; and although we rang for some time, he did not appear again.

At Doctor Parkinson’s, however, we had better luck, discovering the side entrance to the house open and finding our way inside with the aid of the flashlight. There was only one wood box on the lower floor, and this we proceeded to search, laying the wood out carefully onto a newspaper. But we found no envelopes, and in the midst of our discouragement came a really dreadful episode.

Doctor Parkinson himself appeared at the door in his night clothes, and not recognizing us because of our attire and goggles, pointed a revolver at us.

“Hands up!” he cried in a furious tone. “Hands up, you dirty devils! And be quick about it!”

“‘Prevention is better than cure, ting-a-ling,’” said Tish.

“Ting-a-ling your own self! Of all the shameless proceedings I’ve ever——”

“Shame on you!” Tish reproved him. “If ting-a-ling means nothing to you, we will leave you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” he said, most unpleasantly. “Put up your hands as I tell you or——”

I do not now and I never did believe the story he has since told over the town—that Tish threw the fire log she was holding at his legs. I prefer to credit her own version—that as she was trying to raise her hands the wood fell, with most unfortunate results. As a matter of fact, the real risk was run by myself, for when on the impact he dropped the revolver, it exploded and took off the heel of my right shoe.

Nor is it true, as he claims, that having been forced out of his house, we attempted to get back in and attack him again. This error is due to the fact that, once outside, Tish remembered the revolver on the floor, and thinking it might be useful later, went back to get it. But the door was locked.

However, all is well that ends well. We had but driven a block or two when we perceived a number of the cars down the street at the engine house, and proceeded to find our next clew in the box of the local fire engine.

The password this time was “Prohibition,” and the clew ran:

“Just two blocks from paradise and only one from hell,Stranger things than truth are found in the bottom of a well.”

“Just two blocks from paradise and only one from hell,Stranger things than truth are found in the bottom of a well.”

“Just two blocks from paradise and only one from hell,Stranger things than truth are found in the bottom of a well.”

“Just two blocks from paradise and only one from hell,

Stranger things than truth are found in the bottom of a well.”

The Smith boys had already gone on, but we were now at last on equal terms with the others, and as the sleep and the cold night air had by now fully restored Aggie, Tish called a consultation.

“So far,” she said, “the Smiths have had the advantage of superior speed. But it is my opinion that this advantage is an unfair one, and that I have a right to nullify it if opportunity arises.”

“We’ll have to catch them first,” I observed.

“We shall catch them,” she said firmly, and once more studied the clew.

“Paradise,” she said, “should be the Eden Inn. To save time we will circumnavigate it at a distance of two blocks.”

This we did, learning later that Hell’s Kitchen was the name locally given to the negro quarter, and once more Tish’s masterly deciphering of the clew served us well. Before the other cars had much more than started, we espied the Smiths’stripped flivver outside the Gilbert place, and to lose no time drove through the hedge and onto the lawn. Here, as is well known, the Gilberts have an old well, long disused, or so supposed. And here we found the Gilberts’ gardener standing and the Smith boys drawing up the well bucket.

“Give the word and get the envelope,” Tish whispered to me, and disappeared into the darkness.

I admit this. I admit, too, that, as I have said before, I know nothing of her actions for the next few moments. Personally, I believe that she went to the house, as she has stated, to get the Gilbert cook’s recipe for jelly roll; and as anyone knows, considerable damage may be done to an uncovered engine by flying stones. To say that she cut certain wires while absent is to make a claim not borne out by the evidence.

But I will also say that the Smith boys up to that moment had had an unfair advantage, and that the inducing of a brief delay on their part was not forbidden by the rules, which are on my desk as I write. However——

As Mr. Gilbert is not only prominent in the church but is also the local prohibition officer, judge of our surprise when, on the well bucket emerging, we found in it not only the clews but some bottles of beer which had apparently beenput there to cool. And Mr. Gilbert, on arriving with the others, seemed greatly upset.

“Hawkins,” he said to the gardener, “what do you mean by hiding six bottles of beer in my well?”

“Me?” said Hawkins angrily. “If I had six bottles of beer, they’d be in no well! And there aren’t six; there’s only four.”

“Four!” said Mr. Gilbert in a furious voice. “Four! Then who the dev——” Here, however, he checked himself; and as Tish had now returned, we took our clews and departed. Hawkins had given us the next password, which was “Good evening, dearie,” and the clew, which read:

“Down along the lake front, in a pleasant place,Is a splendid building, full of air and space.Glance within a closet, where, neatly looped and tagged,Are the sturdy symbols of the game they’ve bagged.”

“Down along the lake front, in a pleasant place,Is a splendid building, full of air and space.Glance within a closet, where, neatly looped and tagged,Are the sturdy symbols of the game they’ve bagged.”

“Down along the lake front, in a pleasant place,Is a splendid building, full of air and space.Glance within a closet, where, neatly looped and tagged,Are the sturdy symbols of the game they’ve bagged.”

“Down along the lake front, in a pleasant place,

Is a splendid building, full of air and space.

Glance within a closet, where, neatly looped and tagged,

Are the sturdy symbols of the game they’ve bagged.”

Everybody seemed to think it meant the Duck Club, and in a few moments we were all off once more except the Smith boys, who were talking loudly and examining their engine. But Tish was not quite certain.

“These clews are tricky,” she said. “They are not obvious, but subtle. It sounds too much like the Duck Club to be the Duck Club. Besides, what symbols of dead ducks would they keep? I’ve never seen anything left over but the bones.”

“The feathers?” Aggie suggested.

“They wouldn’t keep feathers in a closet. And besides, there’s nothing sturdy about a feather. What other large building is on the lake front?”

“The fish cannery,” I said.

“True. And they might keep boards in a closet with the outlines of very large fish on them. But the less said about the air there the better. However, we might try it.”

Having made this decision, as soon as we were outside of Penzance we began once more to travel with extreme rapidity, retracing for some distance the road we had come in on, and thus it happened that we again saw the motorcycle policeman with his side car. He was repairing something and shouted angrily at us as we passed, but we did not even hesitate, and soon we arrived at the fish cannery.

None of the others had apparently thought of this possibility, and when we reached it there was no one in sight but a bearded watchman with a lantern, sitting on a barrel outside. Tish hopefullyleaped from the car and gave him the password at once.

“‘Good evening, dearie.’”

But the wretch only took his pipe out of his mouth and, after expectorating into the lake, replied:

“Hello, sweetheart. And what can I do for you?”

“Don’t be impertinent,” said Tish tartly. “I said ‘good evening, dearie’, as a signal.”

“And a darned fine signal I call it,” he said, rising. “Let’s have a look at you before the old lady comes along with my supper.”

“I have given you the signal. If you haven’t anything for me, say so.”

“Well, what is it you want?” he inquired, grinning at us in a horrible manner. “A kiss?”

As he immediately began to advance toward Tish, to this action on his part may be laid the misfortune which almost at once beset us. For there is no question that had it not discomposed her she would never have attempted to turn by backing onto the fish pier, which has been rotten for years. But in her indignation she did so, and to our horror we felt the thing giving way beneath us. There was one loud sharp crack followed by the slow splintering of wood, and the next moment we were resting gently on some piles abovethe water, with the shattered framework of the pier overhead and the watchman yelling that the company would sue us for damages.

“Damages!” said Tish, still holding to the steering wheel, while Aggie wailed in the rear. “You talk of damages to me! I’ll put you and your company in the penitentiary if I have to——”

Here she suddenly checked herself and turned to me.

“The penitentiary, of course!” she said. “How stupid of us! And I dare say they keep the ropes they hang people with in a closet. They have to keep them somewhere. Speaking of ropes,” she went on, raising her voice, “if that old fool up there will get a rope, I dare say we can scramble out.”

“Old fool yourself!” cried the watchman, dancing about. “Coming here and making love to me, and then destroying my pier! You can sit there till those piles rot, far’s I’m concerned. There’s something queer about this business anyhow; how do I know you ain’t escaped from the pen?”

“My dear man,” said Tish quietly, “the one thing we want is to get to the penitentiary, and that as soon as possible.”

“Well, you won’t have any trouble getting there,” he retorted. “I’ll see to that. Far’s you’re concerned, you’re on your way.”

He then disappeared, and one of the piles yielding somewhat, the car fell a foot or two more, while Aggie wailed and sneezed alternately. But Tish remained composed. She struck a match, and leaning over the side inspected the water and so on below us.

“There’s a boat down there, Lizzie,” she said. “Get the towrope from under Aggie and fasten it to something. If we can get down, we’ll be all right. The penitentiary isn’t more than a half mile from here.”

“I slide down no rope into no boat, Tish Carberry,” I said firmly.

But at that moment we heard the engine of a motorcycle coming along the road and realized that our enemy the policeman had followed us. And as at that same instant the car again slipped with a sickening jar, we were compelled to this heroic attempt after all.

However, it was managed without untoward incident, Aggie even salvaging the flask of blackberry cordial. But the boat was almost filled with water, and thus required frantic bailing with our hats, a matter only just accomplished when the motorcycle policeman came running onto the pier.

Whether the watchman had failed to tell him of the break or not, I cannot say, but we were no more than under way when we heard a splashfollowed by strangled oaths, and realized that for a time at least we were safe from pursuit.

Wet as we now were, we each took a small dose of the cordial and then fell to rowing. Tish’s watch showed only ten o’clock, and we felt greatly cheered and heartened. Also, as Tish said by way of comforting Aggie, the license plates on the car belonging to Mr. Stubbs, it was unlikely that we would be further involved for the present at least.

Owing to the fact that the cars still in the hunt had all gone to the Duck Club, the brief delay had not lost us our lead, and we proceeded at once, after landing near the penitentiary, to the gate. Our halt there was brief. Tish merely said to the sentry at the entrance, “‘Good evening, dearie.’”

“The same to you and many of them,” he replied cheerfully, and unlocked the gate. We then found ourselves in a large courtyard, with the looming walls of the building before us, and on ringing the bell and repeating the phrase were at once admitted.

There were a number of men in uniform, who locked the grating behind us and showed us intoan office where a young man was sitting at a desk.

I had an uneasy feeling the moment I saw him, and Aggie has since acknowledged the same thing. Instead of smiling as had the others, he simply pushed a large book toward us and asked us to sign our names.

“Register here, please,” was what he said.

“Register?” said Tish. “What for?”

“Like to have our guests’ names,” he said solemnly. “You’ll find your cells all ready for you. Very nice ones—view of the lake and everything. Front, show these ladies to their cells.”

Aggie gave a low moan, but Tish motioned her to be silent.

“Am I to understand you are holding us here?”

“That’s what we’re here for. We specialize in holding, if you know what I mean.”

“If it’s that fish pier——”

“Is it the fish pier?” the young man asked of two or three men around, but nobody seemed to know.

Tish cast a desperate glance about her.

“I may have made a mistake,” she said, “but would it mean anything to you if I said ‘Good evening, dearie’?”

“Why, it would mean a lot,” he said politely. “Any term of—er—affection, you know. I’m a soft-hearted man in spite of my business.”

But Tish was eying him, and now she leaned over the desk and asked very clearly:

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