Read The Missing Formula Page 11


  CHAPTER XI The Secret Hiding Place

  "My! My! Is Jake Curtis important?" Madge mocked. "Take it or leave it! Iwish you had told him to jump in the lake!"

  "I fear I'm at his mercy," Anne returned in a disheartened tone. "Whatcan I do in twenty-four hours? I can't borrow enough money to pay off themortgage. And if I sold the house and island at public auction itprobably wouldn't bring enough to get me out of debt."

  "Jake would see to that," Madge said feelingly. "He has underhanded waysof managing things. But don't take it so hard, Anne. We'll find some wayto best him."

  "The formula was my only chance of raising money and we couldn't possiblyunearth it in twenty-four hours."

  "That man in Washington may wire right back."

  "And again, he may never answer," Anne added gloomily. "Oh, well, it doesno good to moan. Let's go back to the car."

  The girls reached the Brady lodge in time for a late luncheon. Learningthat Mr. Brownell had gone fishing again and that Clyde Wendell had notbeen seen since breakfast, Madge persuaded Anne to remain for a fewhours.

  They had lunch and then sat on the veranda. As usual the conversationturned to the missing formula and to the book which they hoped woulddisclose the secret. Madge brought it from the house and they looked atit again. While they were pouring over the pages, Mrs. Brady came outsideto suggest that Madge take the newly purchased magazines to Bill's cabin.

  "He's laid up with rheumatism again today," she explained, "and I knowhe'll appreciate something to read."

  "Rheumatism, like fun!" Madge laughed as she arose to do her aunt'sbidding. "I notice his attacks always come on the days when Uncle Georgehas planned a hard day's work. You're both too easy on him."

  She accepted the magazines, and with Anne, who still had the book in herhand, walked a short distance through the woods to Bill's cabin. Fromafar they glimpsed the old workman smoking his pipe on the porch but hequickly vanished inside as he saw them coming. When they knocked, amuffled voice bade them enter.

  They entered the room to see Bill stretched on his bunk, his face twistedwith pain.

  "Thet you, Miss Madge?" he mumbled, making an exaggerated effort to lifthimself to a sitting position. "If Mr. Brady sent you to find out how Ibe, you kin tell him I ain't no better. My back's nigh to killin' me. Ididn't git a wink o' sleep last night and this mornin' seems like me poorold body--"

  "Never mind," Madge interrupted. "Uncle George didn't send me. I broughtthese magazines for you."

  Bill's face brightened. He swung his feet to the floor with alacrity,then remembering his ailment, groaned and told Madge to leave themagazines on the table.

  "I won't be doin' much readin' fer several days yet," he mumbled. "I'lljes' lie here quiet like and try to git me strength back."

  The girls soon left, but mischievously hid themselves behind a tree onlya short ways from the cabin. Before long, Old Bill's tousled head wasthrust cautiously out the door. Seeing that the coast was clear he tookup his seat in the sun and soon was lost in the depth of a bloodcurdlingdetective story. The girls stole quietly away.

  "It's always that way," Madge declared. "For every honest day of labor hedoes, Bill rests six! I guess at that we couldn't get along without him."

  Taking a different trail through the woods, the girls presently came to anewly constructed two-room log cabin.

  "Uncle George plans to rent it out later in the summer," Madge explained."It's all finished now."

  "Is it nice inside?"

  "Lovely. I'll open it up and show you."

  Madge dashed off through the woods, returned in a few minutes with thekey, which after a few unsuccessful turns, unlocked the cabin door. Therooms had been furnished with rustic furniture that Mr. Brady had madehimself. The unpainted log walls gave off a pleasant, fresh odor. Madgepointed out the huge stone fireplace.

  "Bill will be proud of this until his dying day. He can tell you thenumber of stones in it too."

  "How did you ever keep him at it long enough to get it done?"

  "It was a problem. Uncle George supervised the work, of course. Eventhen, Bill made several mistakes in placing the stones. See--" sheindicated a deep ledge, well-hidden up the chimney. "No one knows why hedid that. The chimney may not draw right now."

  "Madge, how long before this cabin will be used?" Anne asked suddenly.

  "Probably not for a month or so. Why?"

  "I was thinking--this ledge is made to order!" Anne glanced at the bookshe still carried in her hand. "We must hide 'Kim' somewhere. Whywouldn't this shelf be an ideal place?"

  "Perhaps it would. No one ever comes here now the cabin is finished. Thekey is kept in the kitchen cupboard and the windows are always lockedfrom the inside. The only danger might be that someone would start a fireto test the chimney. And if Uncle George should decide to do that, Icould rescue the book."

  "Let's hide it here then, Madge. Somehow, I don't feel that it is verysafe in your bureau drawer."

  "Neither do I, with so many guests around. But I'm not convinced this issuch a safe place either. I'd feel better if you took the book back homewith you."

  "No, I'd much rather you kept it. And we can't ask for a better placethan this shelf. Who would think of looking here? It's well hidden andthe book just fits the space."

  Anne thrust an exploratory hand up the chimney. As she observed, theledge seemed to have been built for "Kim."

  "I suppose we may as well leave it there," Madge said, a triflereluctantly. "At any rate, the book will be safer than in my bureaudrawer."

  They left the cabin, locking the door behind them. Madge cast an uneasyglance about the clearing. "You--you didn't hear anything?" she asked.

  "Hear anything? Why, no. What do you mean?"

  Madge did not reply immediately for her sharp eyes were searching theline of trees which circled about the little cabin. Gradually, the tenselines of her face relaxed.

  "Just as we came out, I thought I saw someone--right close to the cabin.For a minute, I was sure I heard a stick crackle."

  "Imagination!" Anne laughed. "The responsibility of keeping the book ismaking you nervous."

  "I guess so. Still, this hiding place doesn't entirely suit me. Let's goback and get it!"

  "Nonsense!" Anne protested. "The place is all right. No use treating thatbook as though it were a bag of gold. Come along. I must be getting onhome."

  Reluctantly, Madge permitted herself to be led away.

  "All right," she gave in, "but if anything happens, don't blame me!"