In Her Own Right Part 20

"I've been thinking," said Croyden, as they footed it across the Severn bridge, "that, if we knew the year in which the light-house was erected, we could get the average encroachment of the sea every year, and, by a little figuring, arrive at where the point was in 1720. It would be approximate, of course, but it would give us a start--something more definite than we have now. For all we know Parmenter's treasure may be a hundred yards out in the Bay."

Macloud nodded. "And if we don't find the date, here," he added, "we can go to Washington and get it from the Navy Department. An inquiry from Senator Rickrose will bring what we want, instantly."

"At the same time, why shouldn't we get permission to camp on the Point for a few weeks?" Croyden suggested. "It would make it easy for us to dig and investigate, and fish and measure, in fact, do whatever we wished. Having a permit from the Department, would remove all suspicion."

"Bully! We're fond of the open--with a town convenient!" Macloud laughed. "I know Rickrose well, we can go down this afternoon and see him. He will be so astonished that we are not seeking a political favor, he will go to the Secretary himself and make ours a personal request. Then we will get the necessary camp stuff, and be right on the job."

They had pa.s.sed the Experiment Station and the Rifle Range, and were rounding the shoal onto the Point, when the trotting of a rapidly approaching horse came to them from the rear.

"Suppose we conceal ourselves, and take a look," suggested Macloud.

"Here is a fine place."

He pointed to some rocks and bushes that lined the roadway. The next instant, they had disappeared behind them.

A moment more, and the horse and buggy came into view. In it were two men--of medium size, dressed quietly, with nothing about them to attract attention, save that the driver had a hook-nose, and the other was bald, as the removal of his hat, an instant, showed.

"The thieves!" whispered Croyden.

"Yes--I'll bet a hundred on it!" Macloud answered.

"Greenberry Point seems far off," said the driver--"I wonder if we can have taken the wrong road?"

"This is the only one we could take," the other answered, "so we must be right. I wonder what that jay's doing?" he added, with a laugh.

"Cussing himself for----" The rest was lost in the noise of the team.

"Right, you are!" said Croyden, lifting himself from a bed of stones and vines. "Right, you are, my friend! And if I had a gun, I'd give the Coroner a job with both of you."

Macloud looked thoughtful.

"It would be most effective," he said. "But could we carry it off cleanly? The law is embarra.s.sing if we're detected, you know."

"You're not serious?" said Croyden.

"I never was more so," the other answered. "I'd shoot those scoundrels down without a second's hesitation, if I could do it and not be caught."

"A trifle unconventional!" commented Croyden. "However, your idea isn't half bad; they wouldn't hesitate to do the same to us."

"Exactly! They won't hesitate--and, what's more, they have the nerve to take the chance. That is the difference between us and them."

They waited until they could no longer hear the horse's hoof-falls nor the rumble of the wheels. Then they started forward, keeping off the road and taking a course that afforded the protection of the trees and undergrowth. Presently, they caught sight of the two men--out in the open, their heads together, poring over a paper, presumably the Parmenter letter.

"It is not as easy finding the treasure, as it was to pick my pocket!"

chuckled Croyden. "There's the letter--and there are the men who stole it. And we are helpless to interfere, and they know it. It's about as aggravating as----" He stopped, for want of a suitable comparison.

Macloud only nodded in acquiescence.

The men finished with the letter. Hook-nose went on to the Point, and stood looking at the ruins of the light-house out in the Bay; the other turned and viewed the trees that were nearest.

"Much comfort you'll get from either," muttered Croyden.

Hook-nose returned, and the two held a prolonged conversation, each of them gesticulating, now toward the water, and again toward the timber.

Finally, one went down to the extreme point and stepped off two hundred and fifty paces inland. He marked this point with a stone.

Bald-head pointed to the trees, a hundred yards away, and shook his head. More talk followed. Then they produced a compa.s.s, and ran the additional distance to the North-east.

"Dig! d.a.m.n you, dig!" exclaimed Macloud. "The treasure's not there."

"You'll have to work your brain a bit," Croyden added. "The letter's not all that's needed, thank Heaven! You've stolen the one, but you can't steal the other."

The men, after consulting together, went to the buggy, took out two picks and shovels, and, returning to the place, fell to work.

"Did you ever see such fools?" said Macloud. "Dig! d.a.m.n you, dig!"

After a short while, Bald-head threw down his pick and hoisted himself out of the hole. An animated discussion followed.

"He's got a glimmer of intelligence, at last," Croyden muttered.

The discussion grew more animated, they waved their arms toward the Bay, and toward the Severn, and toward the land. Hook-nose slammed his pick up and down to emphasize his argument. Bald-head did likewise.

"They'll be doing the war dance, next!" laughed Macloud.

"'When thieves fall out, honest men come by their own,'" Croyden quoted.

"_More_ honest men, you mean--the comparative degree."

"Life is made up of comparatives," said Croyden. "What's the matter now?" as Bald-head faced about and stalked back to the buggy. "Has he quit work so soon?"

"He has simply quit digging a hole at random," Macloud said. "My Lord, he's taking a drink!"

Bald-head, however, did not return to his companion. Instead, he went out to the Bay and stood looking across the water toward the bug-light.

Then he turned and looked back toward the timber.

He was thinking, as they had. The land had been driving inward by the encroachment of the Bay--the beeches had, long since, disappeared, the victims of the gales which swept the Point. There was no place from which to start the measurements. Beyond the fact that, somewhere near by, old Parmenter had buried his treasure, one hundred and ninety years before, the letter was of no definite use to anyone.

From the Point, he retraced his steps leisurely to his companion, who had continued digging, said something--to which Hook-nose seemingly made no reply, save by a shovel of sand--and continued directly toward the timber.

"Has he seen us?" said Croyden.

"I think not--these bushes are ample protection. Lie low.... He's not coming this way--he's going to inspect the big trees, on our left....

They won't help you, my light-fingered friend; they're not the right sort."

After a time, Bald-head abandoned the search and went back to his friend. Throwing himself on the ground, he talked vigorously, and, apparently, to some effect, for, presently, the digging ceased and Hook-nose began to listen. At length, he tossed the pick and shovel aside, and lifted himself out of the hole. After a few more gesticulations, they picked up the tools and returned to the buggy.

"Have they decided to abandon it?" said Croyden, as they drove away.

The thieves, themselves, answered the question. At the first heavy undergrowth, they stopped the horse and proceeded carefully to conceal the tools. This accomplished, they drove off toward the town.