CHAPTER IX
DORIS HAS A NEW THEORY
"Well, for gracious sake!" was all Sally could reply to this astonishingremark. And a moment later, "How on earth do you know?"
"I don't _know_. I'm only guessing at it," replied Doris. "But I haveone or two good reasons for thinking we've been on the wrong track rightalong. And if I'd known about _her_ before, I'd have thought so longago."
"But what _is_ it?" cried Sally again, bursting with impatience andcuriosity.
"Sally," said Doris soberly, "I'm going to ask you not to make meexplain it all just yet. I would if I had it all clear in my mind, butthe whole idea is just as hazy as can be at present. And you know athing is very hard to explain when it's hazy like that. It sounds sillyif you put it into words. So won't you just let it be till I get itbetter thought out?"
"Why, yes, of course," replied Sally with an assumed heartiness that shewas far from feeling. Truth to tell, she was not only badly disappointedbut filled with an almost uncontrollable curiosity to know what Dorishad discovered about her secret that she herself did not know.
"And I'm going to ask you another thing," went on Doris. "Do you supposeany one around here knows much about the history of Miss Camilla and herfamily? Would your grandfather be likely to know?"
"Why, yes, I guess so," replied Sally. "If anybody knows I'm sure itwould be he, because he's the oldest person around here."
"Then," said Doris, "I want you to let me talk to your grandfather aboutit. We'll both seem to be talking to him together, but I want to ask himsome questions very specially myself. But I don't want him to suspectthat we have any special interest in the thing, so you try and make himtalk the way you did that night when he told you all about the wrecks,and the _Anne Arundel_. Will you?"
"Oh, yes," agreed Sally. "That's easy. When shall we do it? Thisafternoon? I think he'll be down at the Landing, and we won't have anytrouble getting him to talk to us. There aren't many around the Landingyet, 'cause the season is so early, and I'll steer him over into acorner where we can be by ourselves."
"That's fine!" cried Doris. "I knew you could manage it."
"But tell me--just one thing," begged Sally. "What made you first thinkthat Miss Camilla had anything to do with this? You can tell me just_that_, can't you?"
"It was the little Sevres vase on the mantel," explained Doris, "and theway she spoke of it. I know a little,--just a tiny bit about old chinaand porcelains, because my grandfather is awfully interested in them andhas collected quite a lot. But it was the way she _spoke_ of it thatmade me think."
Not another word would she say on the subject. And though Sally rackedher brains over the matter for the rest of the day, she could find nopoint where Miss Camilla and her remarks had the slightest bearing onthat secret of theirs.
* * * * *
It was about two o'clock that afternoon, and the pavilion at the Landingwas almost deserted. Later it would be peopled by a throng, young andold, hiring boats, crabbing from the long dock, drinking soda-water ormerely watching the river life, idly. But, during the two or three hothours directly after noon, it was deserted. On this occasion, however,not for long. Old Captain Carter, corn-cob pipe in mouth, and stumpingloudly on his wooden leg, was approaching down the road from thevillage. At this hour he seldom failed to take his seat in a corner ofthe pavilion and wait patiently for the afternoon crowd to appear. Hismain diversion for the day consisted in his chats with the throngs whohaunted the Landing.
He had not been settled in his corner three minutes, his wooden legpropped on another chair, when up the wide stairs from the beachappeared his two granddaughters, accompanied by another girl. Truth totell, they had been waiting below exactly half an hour for this veryevent. Doris, who had met him before, went over and exchanged thegreetings of the day, then casually settled herself in an adjacentchair, fanning herself frantically and exclaiming over the heat. Sallyand Genevieve next strolled up and perched on a bench close by. Forseveral minutes the two girls exchanged some rather desultoryconversation. Then, what appeared to be a chance remark of Doris's butwas in reality carefully planned, drew the old sea-captain into theirtalk.
"I wonder why some people around here keep a part of their houses nicelyfixed and live in that part and let the rest get all run down and go towaste?" she inquired with elaborate indifference. Captain Carter prickedup his ears.
"_Who_ do that, I'd like to know?" he snorted. "I hain't seen many of'em!"
"Well, I passed a place this morning and it looked that way," Doriswent on. "I thought maybe it was customary in these parts."
"Where was it?" demanded the Captain, on the defensive for his nativeregion.
"Way up the river," she answered, indicating the direction of SlipperPoint.
"Oh, _that_!" he exclaimed in patent relief. "That's only MissRoundtree's, and I guess you won't see another like it in a month ofSundays."
"Who is she and why does she do it?" asked Doris with a great (and thistime real) show of interest. And thus, finding what his soul delightedin, a willing and interested listener, Captain Carter launched into ahistory and description of Miss Camilla Roundtree. He had told all thatSally had already imparted, when Doris broke in with some skilfullydirected questions.
"How do you suppose she lost all her money?"
"Blest if I know, or any one else!" he grunted. "And what's more, Idon't believe _she_ lost it all, either. I think it was her father andher brother before her that did the trick. They were great folks aroundhere,--high and mighty, we called 'em. Nobody among us down at thevillage was good enough for 'em. This here Miss Camilla,--her motherdied when she was a baby--she used to spend most of her time in New Yorkwith a wealthy aunt. Some swell, she was!--used to go with her auntpretty nigh every year to Europe and we didn't set eyes on her once in ablue moon. Her father and brother had a fine farm and were making money,but she didn't care for this here life.
"Well, one time she come back from Europe and things didn't seem to begoing right down here at her place. I don't know what it was, but therewere queer things whispered about the two men folks and all the moneyseemed to be gone suddenly, too. I was away at the time on athree-years' cruise, so I didn't hear nothin' about it till long after.But they say the brother he disappeared and never came back, and thefather died suddenly of apoplexy or something, and Miss Camilla wasleft to shift for herself, on a farm mortgaged pretty nigh up to thehilt.
"She was a bright woman as ever was made, though, I'll say that for her,and she kept her head in the air and took to teaching school. She taughtright good, too, for a number of years and got the mortgages off thefarm. And then, all of a sudden, she began to get deaf-like, andcouldn't go on teaching. Then she took to selling off a lot of theirland lying round, and got through somehow on that, for a while. Buttimes got harder and living higher priced, and finally she had to giveup trying to keep the whole thing decent and just scrooged herself intothose little quarters in the 'L.' She's made a good fight, but she neverwould come down off her high horse or ask for any help or let any oneinto what happened to her folks."
"How long ago was all that?" asked Doris.
"Oh, about forty or fifty years, I should think," he replied, after amoment's thought. "Yes, fifty or more, at the least."
"You say they owned a lot of land around their farm?" interrogatedDoris, casually.
"Surest thing! One time old Caleb Roundtree owned pretty nigh the wholeside of the river up that way, but he'd sold off a lot of it himselfbefore he died. She owned a good patch for a while, though, severalhundred acres, I guess. But she hain't got nothin' but what lies rightaround the house, now."
"Didn't you ever hear what happened to the brother?" demanded Doris.
"Never a thing. He dropped out of life here as neatly and completely asif he'd suddenly been dropped into the sea. And by the time I'd got backfrom my voyage the nine-days' wonder about it all was over, and I nevercould find out any more on the subject. Never was particularlyintere
sted to, either. Miss Camilla hain't nothin' to me. She's alwayskept to herself and so most folks have almost forgotten who she is."
As the Captain had evidently reached the end of his information on thesubject, Doris rose to take her leave and Sally followed her eagerly.
"Well, did you find out what you wanted?" she cried, as soon as theywere once more out on the river in old "45."
"I found out enough," answered Doris very seriously, "to make me feelpretty sure I'm right. Of course, I can only guess at lots of it, but_one_ thing I'm certain of: that cave had nothing to do with smugglersor pirates--or anything of that sort!"
Sally dropped her oars with a smothered cry of utmost disappointment.
"I can't believe it!" she cried. "I just can't. I've counted on it _so_long--finding treasure or something like that, I mean. I just can'tbelieve it isn't so."
"It may be something far more interesting," Doris replied soothingly."But there's just one trouble about it. If it's what I think it is, andconcerns Miss Camilla, I've begun to feel that we haven't any businessmeddling with it now. We oughtn't even to go into it."
Sally uttered a moan of absolute despair. "I thought it would be thatway," she muttered, half to herself, "if I shared the secret. I _knew_they'd take it away from me!" She shipped her oars and buried her facein her hands. After a moment she raised her head defiantly. "Why, Idon't even know why you say so. You haven't told me yet a single thingof what it's all about. Why _should_ I stay away from that place?"
"Listen, Sally," said Doris, also shipping her oars and laying anappealing hand on her arm, "I ought to tell you now, and I will. Perhapsyou won't feel the same about it as I do. We can talk that overafterward. But don't feel so badly about it. Just hear what I have tosay first.
"I think there has been some trouble in Miss Camilla's life,--somethingshe couldn't tell any one about, and probably connected with that cave.What your grandfather said about her father and brother makes me all themore sure of it. I believe one or the other of them did somethingwrong,--something connected with money, perhaps, embezzled it or forgedchecks or something of that kind. And perhaps whoever it was had to hideaway and be kept so for a long time, and so that cave was made and hehid there. Don't you remember, your grandfather said the brotherdisappeared suddenly and never came back? It must have been he, then.And perhaps Miss Camilla had to sell most of her valuable things andmake up what he had done. That would explain her having parted with allher lovely porcelains and china. And if so much of the land around thehouse once belonged to her, probably that part where the cave is didtoo."
"But what about that bit of paper, then?" demanded Sally, who had beendrinking in this explanation eagerly. "I don't see what that would haveto do with it."
"Well, I don't either," confessed Doris. "Perhaps it _is_ the plan ofthe place where something is hidden, but I'm somehow beginning to thinkit isn't. I'll have to think that over later.
"But now, can't you see that if what I've said is right, it wouldn't bethe thing for us to do any more prying into poor Miss Camilla's secret?It would really be a dreadful thing, especially if she ever suspectedthat we knew. She probably doesn't dream that another soul in the worldknows of it at all."
Sally was decidedly impressed with this explanation and argument, butshe had one more plea to put forward.
"What you say sounds very true, Doris, and I've almost got to believeit, whether I want to or not. But I'm going to ask just one thing. Let'sgive our other idea just a trial, anyway. Let's go there once more andsee if that scheme about the floor and the place in the corner is anygood. It _might_ be, you know. It sounded awfully good to me. And itwon't hurt a thing for us to try it out. If we don't find anything,we'll know there's nothing in it. And if we do find anything thatconcerns Miss Camilla, we'll let it alone and never go near the placeagain. What do you say?"
Doris thought it over gravely. The argument seemed quite sound, and yetsome delicate instinct in her still urged that they should meddle nofurther. But, after all, she considered, they were sure of nothing. Itmight have no concern with Miss Camilla at all. And, to crown it, thesecret was Sally's originally, when all was said and done. Who was she,Doris, to dictate what should or should not be done about it? Shecapitulated.
"All right, Sally," she agreed. "I believe it can do no harm to try outour original scheme. We'll get at it first thing tomorrow morning."