CHAPTER XVII
IN THE KEEPING OF THE DUNES
SCARCELY had Georgina convinced herself by the calendar that it had beenonly one short week since Barby went away instead of the endlessly longtime it seemed, than a letter was brought in to her.
"MY DEAR LITTLE RAINBOW-MAKER," it began.
"You are surely a prism your own self, for you have made a blessedbright spot in the world for me, ever since you came into it. I readyour letter to papa, telling all about your birthday and the prism UncleDarcy gave you. It cheered him up wonderfully. I was so proud of youwhen he said it was a fine letter, and that he'd have to engage you as aspecial correspondent on his paper some day.
"At first the doctors thought his sight was entirely destroyed, by theflying glass of the broken windshield, but now they are beginning tohope that one eye at least may be saved, and possibly the other. Papa isvery doubtful about it himself, and gets very despondent at times. Hehad just been having an especially blue morning when your letter wasbrought in, and he said, when I read it:
"'That _is_ a good line to live by, daughter,' and he had me get outhis volume of Milton and read the whole sonnet that the line is takenfrom. The fact that Milton was blind when he wrote it made it speciallyinteresting to him.
"He and mamma both need me sorely now for a little while, Baby dear, andif you can keep busy and happy without me I'll stay away a couple ofweeks longer and help take him home to Kentucky, but I can't becontented to stay unless you send me a postal every day. If nothing moreis on it than your name, written by your own little fingers, it will puta rainbow around my troubles and help me to be contented away from you."
Georgina spent the rest of the morning answering it. She had a feelingthat she must make up for her father's neglect as a correspondent, bywriting often herself. Maybe the family at Grandfather Shirley'swouldn't notice that there was never any letter with a Chinese stamp onit, addressed in a man's big hand in Barby's pile of mail, if there wereothers for her to smile over.
It had been four months since the last one came. Georgina had keptcareful count, although she had not betrayed her interest except in thewistful way she watched Barby when the postman came. It made her throatache to see that little shadow of disappointment creep into Barby'slovely gray eyes and then see her turn away with her lips pressedtogether tight for a moment before she began to hum or speak brightlyabout something else. No Chinese letter had come in her absence to beforwarded.
Georgina wished her father could know how very much Barby cared abouthearing from him. Maybe if his attention were called to it he wouldwrite oftener. If the editor of a big newspaper like GrandfatherShirley, thought her letters were good enough to print, maybe her fathermight pay attention to one of them. A resolve to write to him some daybegan to shape itself in her mind.
She would have been surprised could she have known that already one ofher epistles was on its way to him. Barby had sent him the "rainbowletter." For Barby had not drawn off silent and hurt when his lettersceased to come, as many a woman would have done.
"Away off there in the interior he has missed the mails," she toldherself. "Or the messenger he trusted may have failed to post hisletters, or he may be ill. I'll not judge him until I know."
After Georgina's letter came she resolutely put her forebodings andmisgivings aside many a time, prompted by it to steer onward so steadilythat hope must do as Uncle Darcy said, "make rainbows even of hertears."
Georgina wrote on until dinner time, telling all about the way she hadspent her birthday dollar. After dinner when the sunshine had dried alltraces of the previous night's rain, she persuaded Tippy that she wasentirely over the effects of the gas, and perfectly able to go downstreet and select the picture postals with which to conduct her dailycorrespondence.
Richard joined her as she passed the bungalow. They made a thrillingafternoon for themselves by whispering to each other whenever anystrange-looking person passed them, "S'pose _that_ was the owner of thepouch and he was looking for us." The dread of their sin finding themout walked like a silent-footed ghost beside them all the way, makingthe two pairs of brown eyes steal furtive glances at each other now andthen, and delicious little shivers of apprehension creep up and downtheir backs.
Whether it was the passing of the unseasonable weather into hot Julysunshine again or whether the wild-cat liniment was responsible, no oneundertook to say, but Mrs. Triplett's rheumatism left her suddenly, andat a time when she was specially glad to be rid of it. The SewingCircle, to which she belonged, was preparing for a bazaar at the Churchof the Pilgrims, and her part in it would keep her away from home mostof the time for three days.
That is why Georgina had unlimited freedom for a while. She was left inBelle's charge, and Belle, still brooding over her troubles, listlesslyassented to anything proposed to her. Belle had been allowed to go andcome as she pleased when she was ten, and she saw no reason whyGeorgina was not equally capable of taking care of herself.
Hardly was Mrs. Triplett out of sight that first morning when Georginaslipped out of the back gate with a long brass-handled fire-shovel, tomeet Richard out on the dunes. He brought a hoe, and in his hand was thelittle compass imbedded in the nut.
When all was ready, according to Georgina's instructions, he turnedaround three times, then facing the east tossed the compass over hisshoulder, saying solemnly, "Brother, go find your brother." She stoodready to mark the spot when it should fall, but Captain Kidd was aheadof her and had the nut in his teeth before she could reach the placewhere it had touched the ground. So Richard took the nut away and heldthe agitated little terrier by the collar while Georgina went throughthe same ceremony.
This time Richard reached the nut before the dog, and drew a circlearound the spot where it had lain. Then he began digging into the sandwith the hoe so industriously that Captain Kidd was moved to franticbarking.
"Here, get to work yourself and keep quiet," ordered Richard. "Rats!You'll have Cousin James coming out to see what we're doing, first thingyou know. He thinks something is the matter now, every time you bark.Rats! I say."
The magic word had its effect. After an instant of quivering eagernessthe dog pounced into the hole which Richard had started, and sent thesand flying furiously around him with his active little paws. Georginadragged the accumulating piles aside with the fire-shovel on one side,and Richard plied the hoe on the other. When the hole grew too deep forCaptain Kidd to dig in longer, Richard stepped in and went deeper. Butit was unsatisfactory work. The shifting sand, dry as powder at thisdepth, was constantly caving in and filling up the space.
They tried making new holes, to the north of the old one, then to thesouth, then on the remaining sides. They were still at it when thewhistle at the cold-storage plant blew for noon. Georgina rubbed asleeve across her red, perspiring face, and shook the ends of her curlsup and down to cool her hot neck.
"I don't see how we can dig any more to-day," she said wearily. "The sunis blistering. I feel all scorched."
"I've had enough," confessed Richard. "But we've got to find thatpouch."
After a moment's rest, leaning on the hoe-handle, he had an inspiration."Let's get Manuel and Joseph and Rosa to help us. They'd dig all day fora nickel."
"I haven't one nickel left," said Georgina. Then she thought a moment."But I could bring some jelly-roll. Those Fayals would dig for eats asquick as they would for money. I'll tell Belle we're going to have asort of a picnic over here and she'll let me bring all that's left inthe cake box."
Richard investigated his pockets. A solitary nickel was all he couldturn out. "Two cents for each of the boys and one for Rosa," he said,but Georgina shook her head.
"Rosa would make trouble if you divided that way. She'd howl tillsomebody came to see what was the matter. But we could do this way. Theone who gets the least money gets the most jelly-roll. We'll wait tillthe digging is over and then let them divide it to suit themselves."
By five o'clock that afternoon, the compass had been sent to
"huntbrother" in a hundred different places, and the hollow circled by thebayberry bushes and beach plums where the pouch had been hidden filledwith deep holes. Captain Kidd had responded to the repeated call of"Rats" until the magic word had lost all charm for him. Even a dog comesto understand in time when a fellow creature has "an axe to grind."Finally, he went off and lay down, merely wagging his tail in a boredway when any further effort was made to arouse his enthusiasm.
The Fayal children, working valiantly in the trenches, laid down arms atlast and strolled home, their faces streaked with jelly-roll, andGeorgina went wearily up the beach, dragging her fire-shovel after her.She felt that she had had enough of the dunes to last her the rest ofher natural lifetime. She seemed to see piles of sand even when shelooked at the water or when her eyes were shut.
"But we won't give up," she said staunchly as she parted from Richard."We're obliged to find that pouch, so we've _got_ to keep hope at theprow."
"Pity all this good digging has to be wasted," said Richard, lookingaround at the various holes. "If it had all been in one place, straightdown, it would have been deep enough to strike a pirate's chest by thistime. I hope they'll fill up before anybody comes this way to noticethem."
"Somehow, I'm not so anxious as I was to go off 'a-piratin' so bold,'"said Georgina with a tired sigh. "I've had enough digging to last meforever and always, amen."
The Fayal children, surfeited with one afternoon of such effort, and notaltogether satisfied as to the division of wages which had led to war intheir midst, did not come back to the Place of the Pouch next morning,but Richard and Georgina appeared promptly, albeit with sore muscles andebbing enthusiasm. Only stern necessity and fear of consequences keptthem at their task.
Cousin James had reported that there was a fishing vessel in thatmorning with two enormous horse mackerel in the catch, which were to becut up and salted at Railroad wharf. It was deliciously cool down on thewharf, with the breeze blowing off the water through the great packingshed, and the white sails scudding past the open doors like fans. WithMrs. Triplett busy with the affairs of the Bazaar, it would have been awonderful opportunity for Georgina to have gone loitering along thepier, watching the summer people start off in motor boats or spreadthemselves lazily under flapping sails for a trip around the harbor.
But something of the grim spirit of their ancestors, typified by themonument looking down on them from the hill, nerved both Richard andGeorgina one more time to answer to the stern call of Duty.