CHAPTER IV
IN THE SAND
The northeaster lasted three days. Then it blew itself out, the windshifted to the northwest, and there was beautiful sparkling weather forthe rest of the week.
During this time, the two new friends came to know each other very wellindeed. It was not only their little shared mystery that unitedthem--they found they had congenial tastes and interests in very manydirections, although they were so different in temperament. Leslie wasslight and dark in appearance, rather timid in disposition, and inclinedto be shy and hesitant in manner. Phyllis was quite the opposite--largeand plump and rosy, courageous and independent, jolly, and often headlongand thoughtless in action. Her mother had died when she was very little,and she had grown up mainly in the care of nurses and servants, from whomshe had imbibed some very queer notions, as Leslie was not long indiscovering. One of these was her firm belief in ghosts and hauntedhouses, which not even the robust and wholesome contempt of her fatherand older brother Ted had succeeded in changing.
But Phyllis had a special gift which drew the two girls together with astrong attraction: she was a devoted lover of music and so accomplished apianist as to be almost a genius--for one of her age. The whole familyseemed 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.It was a revelation to her when, on the next rainy afternoon, sheaccompanied Phyllis to the living-room of Fisherman's Luck and listenedto a recital such as she had never expected to hear outside of aconcert-hall.
"Oh, Phyllis, it's wonderful--simply wonderful!" she sighed blissfullywhen the last liquid ripples of a Chopin waltz had died away. "I don'tsee how you ever learned to play like that! But what in the world are yougoing to do now?" For Phyllis had jumped up with an impatientexclamation, laid back the cover of the grand piano, and was huntingfrantically in the music cabinet for something.
"Why, I'm going to tune the old thing!" she declared. "This salt air isenough to wreck any piano, and this one is so old that it's below pitchmost of the time. But of course it wouldn't do to have a very good onehere. That's why Dad sent this one down. I just _had_ to learn to tuneit, in self-defense, or we could never have used it. So here goes!--"And, to Leslie's breathless amazement, she proceeded to tune theinstrument with the most professional air in the world.
"Phyllis, you're amazing!" murmured Leslie, at length. "But, tellme--what do you intend to do with this wonderful gift you have? Surelyyou'll make it your career--or something like that!"
"Well, of course I _want_ to," confided her friend. "To be candid--I'mcrazy to. It's about the only thing I think of. But Father won't hear ofit. He says he will let me have all the advantages he can, for anamateur, but that's all he's willing or can afford to do. Of course, I'monly seventeen and I've got to finish high school, at least. But I'm wildto go afterward to some one of the great European teachers and study fora year or two, and then see what happens. That, however, would cost atleast two or three thousand dollars, and Father says he simply can'tafford it. So there you are. It's awful to have an ambition and no way ofencouraging it! But I'm always hoping that something will turn up." AndPhyllis returned to her tuning.
"Two or three thousand dollars would be a pretty handy sum to have!"laughed Leslie. "I've been rather on the lookout for some such amountmyself, but for a somewhat different reason."
"Oh, I'll warrant you have an ambition, too! Now tell me about it!" criedPhyllis, pouncing on her and ignoring the piano.
"Yes, it is an ambition," acknowledged Leslie, "but it isn't a bit likeyou. I hardly think you could call it an ambition--just a _wish_. Yousee, it's this way. We're rather a big family at home, four of uschildren, and I'm the oldest; and Father's rather delicate and has neverbeen able to hold a good position long because he's out so much withillness. We get along fairly well--all but little Ralph. He's my specialpet, four year old, but he's lame--had some hip trouble ever since he wasa baby. He could be cured, the doctors say, by a very expensive operationand some special care. But we haven't the money for it--just yet. We'realways hoping something will turn up, too, and my plan is to hurrythrough high school and training-school and then teach, and save everyspare penny for Ralph. But it seems an awfully long time to wait, and allthe while that little tot isn't getting any better."
There were tears in her eyes as she reached this point, and the impetuousPhyllis hugged her. "You darling thing! I think you're too unselfish forwords! It makes me feel ashamed of my own selfish, foolish little wish.Wouldn't it be gorgeous if we could find four or five thousand dollarslying around on the beach? Wouldn't it just--" She stopped abruptly.
"What's the matter?" inquired Leslie. "Anything wrong?"
"No--something just occurred to me. What if that wretched little dragonof ours was guarding just such a fortune? It might be jewels orbank-notes or--or _something_ equally valuable! I'm going to get it rightaway and make another try at opening it. It makes me furious, every timeI think of it, to be so--so balked about getting at anything!"
"But, Phyllis," objected Leslie, "even if there _were_ any such thing, Idon't believe we'd have a right to keep it. It must belong to _somebody_,and we ought to make an effort to find out who. Don't you think so?"
"Oh, yes, if it's any _real_ person--I suppose so," admitted Phyllis."But what if--" She stopped significantly.
"Now _don't_ tell me it was hidden there by _ghosts_!" And Leslie'sinfectious laugh pealed out.
"Oh, hush! or Ted will hear. He can't be far away," implored Phyllis,guiltily. "Of course, I don't say what or whom it was hidden by, butthere's something mighty queer to me about an empty bungalow beinginhabited by _living folks_--"
"What about burglars?" interrupted Leslie, quickly.
"Never _was_ such a thing around these parts, in any one's experience!"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--everyone. 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 ghostlyone!" declared Leslie, nothing daunted. "But anyway, we might haveanother look at the dragon."
Phyllis went and got it out from its hiding-place in her trunk, and theyspent a fruitless half-hour wrestling with its secret fastening. Theybroke their finger-nails trying to pry it open, they pressed and pokedevery inch of it in an endeavor to find a possible secret spring; theyrattled and shook it, rewarded in this case by the dull thud of somethingshifting about. It was this last sound only that kept up their courage.Finally they gave it up.
"I believe we could break it open with an ax, perhaps; but you don't seemto approve of that, so how we're ever going to find out, I'm sure I can'timagine!" declared Phyllis, discouraged.
"Do you know, I think this metal is so strong it would resist even anax," Leslie soothed her, "and we'd only damage the box withoutaccomplishing anything. There must be some other way. Why not show it toTed 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 increation, and he's perfectly insufferable in some ways, now. To have hisadvice asked in this thing would set him up worse than ever. I won't doit!"
Leslie had to smile inwardly at this outburst. To her, Ted had seemedjust a jolly, agreeable, and rather companionable boy, with a veryfriendly, likable attitude. But she realized that she had not hadPhyllis's sisterly experience, so she said nothing more. They put thedragon back in his hiding-place and sadly admitted themselves morebaffled than ever.
On the evening of the third day after this, however, a strange thinghappened.
To the surprise of Leslie, Miss Marcia had been indu
ced to walk along thebeach, after supper, and stop in at Fisherman's Luck to hear aconcert--an impromptu one--given by Phyllis and her father and brother.Leslie had learned that the Kelvin family amused itself in this fashionevery night when the fishing was not particularly good.
"I'd love to hear them play, shouldn't you, Aunt Marcia? Phyllis is awonder, just by herself, and they must make a delightful trio!" She saidthis without any hope that her aunt would express much interest; but toher astonishment, Miss Marcia replied:
"Well, suppose we walk down there after tea. I'm feeling so much betterthat I don't believe it would hurt me, and I'm just hungry to hear somemusic myself!"
Leslie joyfully imparted the news to Phyllis, and they planned anelaborate program. It was an evening that they long remembered, soabsorbed were they in the music that they all loved. And it was not tillthe end of an ensemble rendering of a Bach concerto, that some oneremarked, "Why, it's raining!"
No one had noticed it until then. Miss Marcia was quite aghast, for sheseldom ventured out in the rain and she had brought no adequate wraps.But Leslie settled that question speedily. "I'll take Rags and run up thebeach to our bungalow and bring them to you, if Phyllis will lend me herslickers," she declared. "No, you mustn't come with me, Ted. I'll beperfectly safe with Rags, and while I'm gone, you can all be giving thatBeethoven sonata that you promised Aunt Marcia. I won't be fifteenminutes."
They finally let her go and settled down to the music once more. She wasmuch more than fifteen minutes in returning, but no one noticed it, sodeeply immersed were they in the rendering of the sonata. At last,however, she was back, breathless and dripping and with a curious lightin her eye that no one noticed but Phyllis.
"What is it?" Phyllis managed to whisper, when the others were talkingand putting on wraps.
"Just this," replied Leslie, breathlessly and jerkily. "While I was inthe house--I happened--to look out of my window--as I often do,--no lightin my room--and I saw--that light again next door! Rags saw it too--atleast he growled in that queer way. I waited and watched a long time--Iwanted to go out nearer the place--but didn't dare. Then it disappearedand I didn't see it--any more. Then I came on here."
Phyllis listened to the whispered, jerky sentences in a thrilled silence.Then she replied: "I'm coming up first thing to-morrow morning--early!But watch out the rest of the night--if you can!"
Phyllis was as good as her word--better, in fact, for she was actuallyknocking at the door of Rest Haven before Leslie was out of bed, much toMiss Marcia's astonishment.
"Did you see anything else?" was her first whispered greeting.
But Leslie shook her head. "There wasn't another thing happened. Iwatched nearly all night--till I fell asleep at the window, in fact!"
"Well, something happened at _some_ time or other!" replied Phyllis,provocatively.
"How do you know?" demanded Leslie, in a twitter.
"I've seen the sign of it. Come outside and I'll show you!"
They made some excuse to Miss Marcia for immediately vacating the house,and hurried outdoors. Phyllis led the way to a certain side door ofCurlew's Nest, on the opposite side from Rest Haven, where a shelteringprojection of roof extended out for two or three feet over the ground.The hard rain of the night before had beaten out the sand all about thewooden foot-path to an unbroken smoothness. But just under the protectingroof, Phyllis pointed to something at their feet.
"There it is!" she muttered. And Leslie, staring down, beheld theimpression of a single footprint--a footprint very different from eitherof their own--in the sand!