Augusta Huiell Seaman

“ That’s our bungalow right back there,—‘Fisherman’s Luck.’”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re going to be here!” sighed Leslie, happily. “I’ve been horribly lonesome! Aunt Marcia does not go out very often and sleeps a great deal, and I absolutely long to talk to some one at times. I don’t know anything much about fishing, but I hope you’ll let me be with you some, if I promise not to talk too much and spoil things!”
“You’re not a bit happier to find some one than I am!” echoed Phyllis. “I love fishing, too, but I’m not so crazy about it as they are, and I’ve often longed for some girl chum down here. ”

“ It was a golden afternoon, and Leslie almost resented the fact that they had any worries or problems on their minds.
“Why, who in the world is that?” exclaimed Phyllis, suddenly, as they rounded a slight curve in the beach and came in sight of a figure standing at the water’s edge, a rod and long line in his hand, and a camp-stool and fishing-kit beside him. “There hasn’t been a stranger fishing in this region in an age! People generally go down by the big bungalow colony three miles farther along for that. We almost never see any one here. ”

“ 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! ”

“ But Phyllis had a special gift which drew the two girls together with a strong attraction: she was a devoted lover of music and so accomplished a pianist as to be almost a genius—for one of her age. The whole family seemed to be musical. Her father played the ’cello and Ted the violin, but Phyllis’s work at the piano far surpassed theirs. And Leslie, too, loved music devotedly, though she neither sang nor played any instrument. ”

“ But that was easier said than done. Try as they would, they could find no way of opening the casket. The dragon’s head came down over the lock or clasp, and there was no vestige of keyhole or catch or spring. And so intricate was the carving, that there was not even any crack or crevice where the lid fitted down over the body of the box into which they could insert Phyllis’s penknife blade to pry it open by force. The casket and its contents was a baffling mystery, and the wicked looking little dragon seemed to guard the secret with positive glee, so malicious was its expression! ”

“ Rags always adored it. Forsaking the much-sought fish, he leaped into the lazy waves and swam out toward his new prize, while the stranger eagerly seized the fish and concealed it in his basket.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” apologized Leslie. “I know he has spoiled it now. I hope you can forgive us for this dreadful thing.”
“Nothing of the sort!” laughed the stranger. “He hasn’t harmed it a bit, for it was only the head he had hold of. When it’s washed and cooked, that beauty will taste just as good as if it had never had the adventure. ”

“ I’ll run down to our house for the electric torch and meet you at the side door. There’s not a soul around to interfere with us!”
“Oh, no, Phyllis! I really don’t think we ought—” objected Leslie, recalling all too vividly the unpleasantness of their former experience. But Phyllis was off and far away while she was still expostulating, and in the end, Leslie found herself awaiting her companion in the vicinity of the side door of Curlew’s Nest.
They entered the dark bungalow with beating hearts, more aware this time than ever that mystery lurked in the depth of it. ”

“ Phyllis assured her. “Something’s come over him—I can’t guess what. He will hardly speak either to Father or myself. He doesn’t even want to play his violin when we get together, and usually he adores that. He’s moody and silent and just—grouchy, most of the time! And that’s unusual for Ted. I’ll give him credit for being a pretty amiable fellow, as a rule. I can’t make him out!”
“And it surely is queer that we’ve seen nothing more of Eileen, don’t you think so?” questioned Leslie. ”

“ Phyllis hastened to assure her, much to her secret relief.
“Then perhaps it’s the people who own the cottage,” offered Leslie.
“No chance. They’ve all gone off to spend the winter in California—every one. Ted had a letter from Leroy Danforth, who is a great chum of his, last week.”
“Well, I know there is some other explanation besides a—a ghostly one!” declared Leslie, nothing daunted. “But anyway, we might have another look at the dragon.”
Phyllis went and got it out from its hiding-place in her trunk, and they spent a fruitless half-hour wrestling with its secret fastening. ”

“ Daddy and Ted won’t move from the beach for the rest of the morning, but I’d like to stop and talk with you. I get tired sooner than they do.”
Leslie agreed joyfully, and together they tugged a heavy basket of wood up to the one other bungalow on the beach beside the one Leslie and her aunt were stopping at—and Curlew’s Nest. She found Fisherman’s Luck a delightful abode, full of the pleasant, intimate touches that could only be imparted by owners who inhabited it themselves most of the time. A roaring fire blazed invitingly in the big open fireplace in the living-room. ”

“ It’s perfectly safe. There’s not a soul around. I’ve been in the house. Bring Rags along—it won’t hurt. There have been queer doings here to-day—evidently. You can see it all in five minutes. Do come!”
In spite of all her previous fears, the temptation was too much for Leslie. If Phyllis had examined the ground and found it safe, surely there was no need for fear, and her curiosity to see what her friend had seen was now stronger than she could resist. She crept softly out of the window, speaking to Rags in a whisper, and the dog leaped lightly out after her. ”

“ Leslie soothed her, “and we’d only damage the box without accomplishing anything. There must be some other way. Why not show it to Ted and your father? Perhaps they could do what we can’t.”
“I will not share this secret with Ted!” declared Phyllis, obstinately. “He’s nearly nineteen and he thinks he’s the most important thing in creation, and he’s perfectly insufferable in some ways, now. To have his advice asked in this thing would set him up worse than ever. ”

“ It’s getting worse every minute. Have you seen how the tide is rising? Get on your things and come down to the beach. Ted brought me, because I could hardly stand up against the wind. He’s going back presently. Come and see how the water is rising!”
“Oh, hush!” implored Leslie, glancing nervously toward her aunt. “You’ve no idea how upset Aunt Marcia is already,” she whispered. “She’ll be distracted if she gets an idea there’s any danger.”
“Forgive me!” returned Phyllis, contritely. “I really didn’t think, for a moment. Father says there probably isn’t any real danger. ”

“ Again Leslie laughed. “We’ve a telephone in the bungalow and can call up the village 8 doctor or the constable, in case of need. The doctor said there weren’t any tramps or unwelcome characters about, and I’ve certainly never seen any in the two weeks we’ve been here. And, last but not least, there’s always Rags!—You know how extremely unpleasant he’d make it for any one who tried to harm us. No, Aunt Marcia, you haven’t a ghost of an excuse for not feeling perfectly safe. But now I’m going in to start supper. You stay here and enjoy the view.” ”

“ Phyllis had been as good as her word. On the morning after that night of the fog, she had returned to her bungalow before breakfast, and had reappeared later at Rest Haven with a mysterious bundle. When they had both retired to Leslie’s room she revealed its contents, a piece of burlap, an exact duplicate of the one which contained the Dragon’s Secret, and an antimony jewel-case. Then they got down the original from its dusty shelf, fashioned a bag, the exact size and shape of the one Rags had unearthed, placed the jewel-case in it, and sewed it up. ”

“ Now tell me about it!” cried Phyllis, pouncing on her and ignoring the piano.
“Yes, it is an ambition,” acknowledged Leslie, “but it isn’t a bit like you. I hardly think you could call it an ambition—just a wish. You see, it’s this way. We’re rather a big family at home, four of us children, and I’m the oldest; and Father’s rather delicate and has never been able to hold a good position long because he’s out so much with illness. We get along fairly well—all but little Ralph. ”

“ With Rags at their heels, they snatched up some wraps and all suddenly burst out of the front door onto the veranda, Phyllis 192 having 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, what shall we do if it comes much higher!” she moaned to herself. ”

“ You’re going to stay right where you are, with Rags, and keep watch. And I’m going to get out of the window and go over and explore Curlew’s Nest by myself!”
“Phyllis, are you crazy?” implored Leslie. “I think that is one of the most dangerous things you could do!”
“Nothing of the sort. It’s safer to-night than it would be almost any other time. Because—can’t you see?—some one has evidently been here all the afternoon, when the coast was entirely clear, and no doubt they’ve done all they wish to do there for this day, anyhow! ”

“ If it’s Ted, don’t you suppose he sees us hanging about here all the time? He’d be a goose to try anything right in front of our eyes. No doubt he’s seen one or the other of us at the window all night, too. And if it’s Eileen or any one else, it’s the same thing. Let’s go off somewhere and give them a chance. Not too far though, for we want to be where we can get back with reasonable speed ourselves.”
So they went for a stroll along the beach, accompanied by Rags, who was only too delighted at the prospect of an expedition that promised some change. It was a mild, hazy October afternoon. ”

“ A fine drizzle beat in one’s face through the slightest opening of door or window. Leslie loved the soft, salt tang of the air, and in spite of her aunt’s rather horrified protests, prepared for a long excursion out of doors.
“Don’t worry about me, Auntie dear!” she laughed gaily. “One can’t possibly catch cold in this mild, beautiful air; and if I get wet, I can always get dry again before any damage is done. Besides, we need some more wood for the fires very, very badly and they say you can simply find heaps of it on the beach after a storm like this. ”

“ Why in winter the surf often comes up right under the bungalows!” remarked Phyllis, in quite an offhanded way.
“Mercy! Don’t ever tell Aunt Marcia that, or she’d go straight home!” exclaimed Leslie. “But isn’t it queer that it just happened to be right in front of Curlew’s Nest! Everything queer seems to happen right around that place.”
“That’s so! I’d almost forgotten the other thing. But what I can’t understand is how your dog happened to dig the thing up.”
“Oh, that’s simple! He’s always chasing hermit-crabs—it’s a great sport of his. ”

“ A 170 slouch hat was pulled down to shade his eyes, but still they could see that his face was alert and kindly and placid, with twinkling gray eyes and a whimsical mouth. He was obviously an adept fisherman, as Phyllis remarked, when they had witnessed the clever way in which he managed a catch. They were very near him by that time, and watching breathlessly. Once his prey almost eluded him, but with a skilful manipulation of his tackle, he presently brought the big fellow, lashing wildly, to land, well out of reach of the water. ”

“ Can’t you see?—Ted late and mixed up with some breakdown—Eileen late and had trouble with the machinery,—and with my own eyes I saw some one jump into her car!—Could it, could it be possible that person was—Ted?”
Phyllis stared at her as if she thought Leslie certainly had “gone crazy.” “There’s not the slightest chance in the world!” she declared positively. “Why, only last night, when I was explaining to Ted about Eileen and how we’d become friends, all he said was: ‘Well, so you’ve taken up with some other dame, have you! ”

“ I’ll find out later, though, you see if I don’t!”
When they entered the living-room with a dainty tray a few minutes later, they found Eileen standing by one of the windows facing the ocean, trying vainly to peer into the outer blackness. She started guiltily when she saw them and retreated to the fire, murmuring something about “the awful night.” But though she had seemed so eager for food, she ate almost nothing.
“Can’t you take a little of this hot soup?” urged Leslie. “It will do you so much good. You must be very hungry by now.” ”

“ Father, Ted, and I,—but we don’t care for it so much in the summer season when the beach is more crowded with vacation folks and that big hotel farther up the beach is full. We have some cousins who usually take the bungalow for July and August.”
“I never was at the ocean in October before,” sighed Leslie, comfortably, “and it’s perfectly heavenly! We have that dear little bungalow, Rest Haven, but the one right next to it is not occupied.”
“No,” said Phyllis, “and it’s queer, too. ”

“ This morning I promised Ted and Father I’d fish with them awhile; but this afternoon I’m free.”
“Where are you two girls?” they heard Miss Crane calling from next door, and they started guiltily, not realizing how long they had been away.
“I must be more careful, or Aunt Marcia will begin to suspect something and question me,” whispered Leslie. “It would never do in the world to have her realize there was anything queer going on so close to us. She’d pack up for home in a minute, her nerves are still so uncertain. Coming, Aunt Marcia!”
“That’s so!” agreed Phyllis. ”

“ I know Aunt Sally Blake very well, and we’ll go and see her—this very afternoon! Perhaps she can give us more light on the subject.”
“But wouldn’t that seem too plainly like tracking down this—Miss Ramsay?” objected 103 Leslie, “especially as she doesn’t appear to care for our acquaintance!”
“Not a bit!” declared Phyllis, positively. “You don’t realize how well I know Aunt Sally. Why, she’s a regular village institution—everybody knows her and thinks the world of her. She’s a plump, jolly, delightful old lady who lives in a delightful old house full of dear, old-fashioned furniture. ”