CHAPTER VIII
THE CLUE OF THE GREEN BEAD
With shaking knees and blank dismay on their faces, they crept out ofCurlew's Nest and fastened the door. Then they hurried down to thewater's edge and sat on a rise of sand to talk it over.
"What can it all mean, Phyllis?" quavered Leslie.
"It means that some one has been in there again since day beforeyesterday," declared her companion, "though it's been bright moonlightfor the past two nights, and how they got in without being seen, I can'tquite understand! You said you kept some sort of watch, didn't you?"
"I certainly did. I haven't gone to bed till late, and every once in awhile during the night, I've waked up and looked over there. It doesn'tseem possible they would dare to come with the moonlight bright as day,all night long. Of course, that side door is on the opposite side fromus, and the only way I could tell would be by seeing a light through thecracks of the shutter. Perhaps if they hadn't had a very bright light, Iwouldn't know."
"But what did they come for?" questioned Phyllis.
"Why, that's simple. They came back to get the beads and the knife-blade.Probably it was the 'mysterious she,' and she came to get those thingsbecause she realized they'd been left there and might be discovered bysome one else. What else could it be?"
"Of course you must be right," agreed Phyllis. "But it's the queerestthing I ever heard of! Anyway, there's _one_ thing the lady doesn'tknow--that we have still one of the beads! I wonder how she'd feel if she_did_ realize it?"
"Do you ever wonder what that mysterious lady is like?" asked Leslie. "Ioften try to picture her--from the very, very little we know about her. Ithink she is tall and dark and slender, and very, very stylishly dressed.She has rather sad brown eyes and is quite foreign-looking and would bevery interesting to know."
"Well, I don't imagine her that way at all," replied Phyllis. "To me itseems as if she must be large and imposing, with light hair and blue eyesand very quick, vivacious manners. I agree that she is no doubt dressedin a very up-to-date style, and is probably about thirty-five or fortyyears old. I don't know whether I'd like to know her or not, but I_would_ like to know what she's after in that bungalow!"
So they continued to conjecture and imagine till Phyllis finallyexclaimed: "Why, there are Father and Ted back already! Fishing must havebeen poor this morning. Thank goodness we got out of that place when wedid! But that reminds me, I ought to go to the village and order somesupplies. The grocer doesn't come here again for two days. Don't you wantto walk down with me? It's a gorgeous morning for a 'hike'!"
"I believe I will," agreed Leslie, "that is, if Aunt Marcia can get alongwithout me. I haven't had a good walk in so long that I fairly ache forone. I'll go and see if Aunt Marcia would like me to get her anything,and I'll meet you in five minutes."
It was indeed a glorious morning for a walk. The crisp October air was asclear as crystal and the salt meadows back of the dunes were still gaywith goldenrod and the deeper autumn colorings. The creek that woundthrough them was a ribbon of intense blue, and a thousand marsh-birdstwittered and darted and swooped over its surface. But the two girlswere, for once, almost blind to the beauty of it all, so absorbed werethey in the never-failing topic of their mystery. And the village wasreached almost before they realized they were in its vicinity.
Phyllis did her shopping first, in the general grocery store. Then Lesliesuggested that they visit the little fancy-goods store and look up somewool for Miss Marcia's knitting. It was a very tiny little store, kept bya tiny, rather sleepy old lady, who took a long time to find the articlesher customers required. It seemed as if she would never, never locate thebox with the right shade of wool in it!
While they were waiting, not altogether patiently, a handsome automobiledrew up in front of the store. Its only occupant was a young girlscarcely older than Leslie and Phyllis, and by the ease with which shehandled the car, it was plain to be seen that she was an accomplisheddriver. In another moment she had entered the store and was standingbeside the two girls, waiting to be served.
She was short and slender in build, with a pink-and-white complexion, ofmarvelous clearness, and fluffy, red-brown hair. Under the heavy coatwhich she had unbuttoned on entering the store could be seen a stylishsuit of English tweeds, very tailor-made and up-to-date, and a smart tamcrowned her red-brown hair.
After the pleasant manner of the villagers and accustomed summer people,Phyllis bade her "Good morning!" But, to the astonishment of both girls,instead of replying in an equally pleasant manner, she stared at themboth up and down for a moment, then turned away with only an ungraciousnod. The indignant pair left her severely alone after that, except for afurtive glance or two when she was looking the other way. But when theyhad at last ascertained that old Mrs. Selby had, after all, _no_ wool ofthe shade required, Leslie hurried Phyllis out with what seemed almostunnecessary haste.
"The little wretch!" sputtered Phyllis, once safely outside. "Did you_ever_ see worse manners? But she's--"
"Never mind about her manners!" whispered Leslie, excitedly. "Did younotice anything else?"
"Noticed that she was very smart looking and quite pretty--that is, Ithought so at first. But after she acted that way, she seemed positively_hateful_!"
"No, no! I don't mean that. Did you notice anything about her dress--herclothes?"
"Oh, do tell me what you mean!" cried Phyllis. "How you do love tomystify a person!"
"Well," whispered Leslie, her eyes still on the door of the little store,"when she threw open her coat I just happened to glance at her dress, andnoticed that it had a girdle of some dark green, crepe-y material, andthe two ends had fringes of beads--_and the beads were just like the onesin Curlew's Nest_!"
Phyllis simply stared at her, open-mouthed and incredulous. "It can'tbe!" she muttered at length. "Even if the beads were like the ones youfound--there are probably more persons than one who have some like them."
"Yes, that's true," admitted Leslie, "but the color--and queershape--everything!--At least, it's something worth investigating. It'sthe first real clue we've had."
At that moment, the girl in question came out of the store, sprang intothe car, whirled the wheel about, and was off down the street in a cloudof dust. They stood gazing after her.
"It doesn't seem possible!" exclaimed Phyllis. "It just can't be! Andyet--tell you what! I'm just wondering whether she's staying anywherearound here or is just a casual stranger passing through the town. Let'sgo in and ask old Mrs. Selby if she knows anything about her. If she'sstaying here, Mrs. Selby will positively know it. I'll make the excuse ofhaving forgotten to buy something. Come along!"
She hustled Leslie back into the little shop and soon had little Mrs.Selby hunting for a size and variety of shell hair-pin of which she hadno need whatever, as she possessed already a plentiful supply at home.But it was the only thing she could think of at the moment. When theywere being wrapped, she asked quite casually:
"Was that young girl who just went out a stranger here, Mrs. Selby, or isshe stopping in the village? Seems to me I don't recall her face."
"Oh, she ain't exactly a stranger," replied Mrs. Selby with alacrity,quite waking up at the prospect of retailing a bit of gossip; "But sheain't been around here so long--only a couple of weeks or so. She comesin here once in a while, but she ain't very friendly like--never passesthe time o' day nor nothing,--just asks for what she wants and goes out.I never did quite take to manners like that. Nobody else here actsso--not even the summer folks. I can't think how she was brung up! Theydo say as she ain't an American,--that she's English or something,--but Idon't know for sure. Anyhow, she don't mix with no one--just runs aroundin that ottymobile all the time."
"Where's she stopping?" went on Phyllis. "The hotel is closed. I thoughtall the summer people but ourselves had gone."
"Oh, she's boarding up to Aunt Sally Blake's. I dunno how she come to gothere, but there she is. I wonder how Aunt Sally gets
along with her?"
"Have you heard what her name is?" pursued Phyllis, as she received herparcel.
"They do say her name is Ramsay--Miss Ramsay. Good morning, young ladies,and thank you. Come in again soon."
When they were out on the street, Leslie clutched Phyllis spasmodicallyand her eyes were almost popping out of her head.
"Is there the least doubt in your mind _now_, Phyllis Kelvin?" shedemanded. "Her name is Ramsay--the very same name that was on the envelopin the book!"
And Phyllis was obliged to acknowledge herself convinced.