CHAPTER XXV A VISIT IN THE NIGHT
Excitement regarding the discovery of that ancient pottery was all overwhen, at a rather late hour that night, Jeanne crept beneath the blanketsin the chilly little room under the rafters in the fisherman's cabin onIsle Royale.
As she lay there in the darkness and silence that night brings, shethought again of the startling news Vivian had wanted to flash out overher tiny radio station to all the world, the word that the airplaneD.X.123 had been found.
"Vivian will not send it until I say 'Yes,'" she assured herself. "She isthe kind of girl who can keep a secret--a really true friend. And yet, Iwonder if I have the right to ask her to remain silent?"
As she closed her eyes, she saw again the wistful, almost mournful lookon the face of June Travis. Then she fell asleep.
She did not sleep long. She was wakened by loud banging on the cabindoor.
"Let us in!" a voice called huskily.
A light appeared, reflected on the roof above Jeanne's head. She heardthe fisherman say, "Who are you?"
She caught the answer clear and plain: "I am John Travis."
Ten minutes later Jeanne was listening to the strange, all butunbelievable story of John Travis, who was, in very truth, the father ofher friend June.
Relying upon the word of a dying veteran prospector, John Travis and afriend, who was an air pilot, had flown far into the north of Canada inquest of gold.
They had discovered gold, but had disabled their plane. The story of theyears that followed was one of hardships, failure and final success.
"There we were," the voice of John Travis went on, "with our planewrecked in the heart of a frozen wilderness." He stared at the glowinghearth as if he would see again that great white emptiness, hear againthe wail of those rushing northern gales.
"We had food for a year. But where were we? We could not tell. We beganexploring. Little by little, we widened our circle until one day I cameupon a low falls where the water ran so swiftly that even in winter itwas not frozen over. And at the edge of that falls, where a low eddy haddeposited it, was a handful of sand." He took a long breath. "In thatsand there was a gleam of gold.
"He who has not felt it--" he spoke slowly. "He who has not lived in theNorth can tell nothing of what the call of the North is, nor the grip thesearch for gold gets upon your very soul.
"Why did we not come back sooner? How could one leave one's own people solong, desert an only child? Gold!" He clenched his knotty hands tight."Gold! We had found gold. At first it was only a little. As days, monthspassed, we found more and more. And always, always--" The gleam of agambler shone in his eyes as he spread his hands wide. "Always, justbefore us, like a mirage on the desert, was the motherlode, the pocket ofgold where nuggets were piled in one great heap. We would find ittomorrow--tomorrow.
"Gold," he repeated softly. "Gold. It's all there in the cabin of thatplane at the bottom of that little lost lake. We'll lift the plane andthe gold when the spring thaw comes. And then, my child, my June shall berich. And you, my friends--" his eyes swept the little circle, "you shallnot go unrewarded."
"But think of the peril to June," Jeanne said in a low, serious tone.
"I left her in good hands."
"But now she is a young lady, sixteen. Her birthday--is it thetwenty-first? That must be very soon. Then she gets her money. And moneymeans danger."
"Money--danger?" The man brushed his hand before his eyes.
"But let me finish. Indians came, fine bronze-faced fellows we couldtrust. We gave them gold, bound them to secrecy by an oath known only totheir tribe, and hired them to bring us food.
"So the years passed until, one day, a plane came zooming in from thesouth. And at the sight of men of our own race, somehow our blood got onfire. As they talked of cities, of bright lights and music, of pictures,dancing and song, of autos and airplanes and all our great country'sprogress, my heart seemed ready to burst with the desire to become a partof it all again.
"Well," he sighed once more, "they flew away to return a little laterwith parts for our plane. We paid them with our gold mine, what there isleft of it. We sailed away into the blue with our gold. We were headedfor Chicago and would have made it, too, if fog hadn't caught us. It didcatch us, as you know. We tried to land on ice. We were successful. Wewere saved. But the ice gave way, the plane sank!
"But now--" he sprang to his feet. "Now we are safe again. And soon,please God, I shall be with my child again. And this time I am ready toswear it on the open Bible, I shall never again leave her alone!
"Until now," he ended, "we did not know where we were."
"But now you know!" Jeanne exclaimed. "Soon all the world shall know.Vivian! Sandy! The radio! We are to be the bearers of good tidings, ofgreat joy!"
CHAPTER XXVI IN WHICH SOME THINGS ARE WELL FINISHED
"We'll just get the janitor to go up with us," said Patrick Moriarity ashe and Florence arrived at the building in which Madame Zaran conductedher readings. "They're gone, more than likely."
And so they were. The room, as they approached it, was dark and appeareddeserted.
As, under police orders, the janitor opened the door, Florence once againfelt a thrill run up her spine. In her mind she felt again, as on thatfirst day, the grip of those bony fingers on her shoulders. Once againshe saw the shadow against those midnight blue draperies--the shadow of"Satan"--this time in imagination alone.
"Deserted as a tomb," was Patrick's conclusion. "We'll just have a look."Florence had told him of all the strange doings that had gone on here.
"What's this?" he muttered as they came upon a narrow stairway hiddenamong the draperies.
Together they mounted the stairs to arrive at a still narrower platform.Here on a stand they discovered a small moving-picture projector.
"I thought maybe it would be that," was Patrick's only comment as hefocused the machine, then turned on the motor.
To Florence's vast surprise, the crystal ball, reposing on the table onthe floor below, at once became alive. On its gleaming surface tiny humanfigures began to move.
"Quite simple," was the young officer's comment. "Moving pictures focusedupon a small screen behind the ball--that's all it was."
"And they made the pictures especially for their--their clients!"Florence's tone spoke her astonishment. "Posed people made up to looklike them."
"Rather costly, I'd say!" said Patrick. "But then, they were playing forbig stakes. I have no doubt they've played their little game before,perhaps many times.
"Come!" he said a moment later, "We'll go have a look on this blackpriestess of yours. We may find her at home."
They did find the priestess, and many more besides. In fact, there hadbeen quite an affair at her studio that very morning. Truth was, asFlorence, leaning on Patrick's arm, looked in upon the scene, she thoughtthere had been nothing quite like it before.
"It--it's like a scene on the stage," she whispered.
"The cold gray dawn of the morning after," Patrick murmured.
And indeed that was just what it looked to be. In the center of the room,her hands still clawing as if for unearned gold, Madame Zaran stoodleaning on a table. She seemed dizzy. The reason was a rapidly swellingbruise on her forehead. At her feet lay her thick-necked guard, he whohad entered the studio on the previous night. He was out for good. So,too, were two black men in one corner. As for the Professor and thevoodoo priestess, they were seated upon the floor, staring at one anotherfor all the world like two spent wrestlers pausing to regain theirbreath. As Florence and the young officer stood there looking on instupefied silence, a black goat with golden horns appeared fromsomewhere. He let out a loud b-a-a, then charged the unfortunate MadameZaran. He hit her behind the knees, and she collapsed like an empty sack.
"It looks to me," Patrick drawled, "as if there had been a fight."
"Sure does look that way," said a strange voice.
r /> Florence whirled about to find herself looking into a face that resembleda new moon--large thin nose, sharp protruding chin, eyes that bulgedslightly. "The Devil," she thought without saying it.
"You've seen me before." The man favored her with a friendly smile.
"I--I guess I've seen your shadow more than once," the girl managed toreply.
"Handy sort of shadow," the man chuckled. "You see, I'm a city detective.I've been on this case for some time. Now it would seem that all that'sneeded is an ambulance."
"I'll call one," Patrick said, hurrying away.
Fifteen minutes later, the whole company, including the goat, were ontheir way to the police station. Shortly thereafter, the greater numberof them were transferred to the hospital.
Of quite a different nature was the meeting in Miss Mabee's studio twodays later.
They were gathered there in the studio, Florence and June, Miss Mabee,Tum Morrow and Rodney Angel, when there came the sound of footsteps onthe stairs, followed by a rattle at the bell. June started forwardimpulsively. Florence held her back. "Wait!" she whispered.
Miss Mabee pressed a button. The door opened slowly, and in walked Sandy,Jeanne and a short, stout man. They, the newcomers, all wore heavyairplane coats and carried airplane traveling bags in their hands.
"Well?" The man studied the waiting group. When his eyes fell upon Junethey lighted up as if by a touch of fire.
"June!" His voice was husky. "How big! How beautiful you are!" Nextinstant the girl was in his arms.
And after that, as always, there was a feast. At this feast John Travismade a brief speech. "There's gold on Isle Royale." He spoke withfeeling. "More gold at the bottom of that little lake than any man canuse wisely in a lifetime. When it's been recovered, I shall charter thefinest airplane in the country and take you all on a trip around theworld. What do you say to that?"
Of course, they said "Yes," and they said it with a shout of joy. Butwould they go? Only time could tell.
"This fortune telling," Florence said to June as they lunched togethernext day, "It is all a fake and a fraud."
"But what can we say of the little lady in gray?" June asked, as sheopened her eyes wide.
"Yes," Florence agreed, "that _was_ strange!"
"I'd like to go and see her again and--and thank her." The younger girl'seyes shone.
"We will go this very afternoon."
They did, and with the most astonishing results. They were met at thedoor by a very large lady. "Large enough," Florence thought with a start,"to occupy that huge chair."
"We--we'd like to see the little lady in gray," June said timidly.
"You must have the wrong number." The large lady looked at them insurprise. "There is no one here but me."
"But there _was_!" June insisted.
"You are mistaken!" In the woman's voice there was a positive note nonewould care to dispute. "I live here alone with my cat and canaries. Therenever has been anyone else."
June opened her mouth to speak again, but Florence was pulling at herarm.
"We're sorry," said Florence. "This must be the wrong address."
"But it isn't!" June insisted when they were once more on the sidewalk."I am sure of it."
"So am I." Florence smiled in a strange way. "But when some fairygodmother borrows a house for a morning just so she can give you somevery good news, you don't go right ahead and give her away, do you?"
"N--no, I suppose not."
"Anyway," said Florence, finally, "I am through with mysteries for along, long time!"
Was she? If you wish to know, you must read _A Ticket to Adventure_.
Transcriber's Notes
--Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.
--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.
--In the text versions, italic text is delimited by _underscores_.
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