The Meadow-Brook Girls by the Sea Part 18

"There ithn't much danger of falling over the furniture in the dark, ith there?" she asked.

"Not when we have a Torch Bearer with us," answered Buster, from the shadow just outside the door.

"Thave me!" murmured Tommy.

"Oh, my stars! We'll laugh to-morrow, darlin'. It's too dark to laugh now. Come in and sit down, Buster. It isn't safe to leave you out there. No telling what you might not do after having given out such a flimsy 'joke.'"

"Where shall I sit?" asked Margery, stepping in and glancing about the room.

"Take the easy chair over there in the corner," suggested Harriet smilingly.

"But there isn't any chair there."

"That ith all right. You jutht thit where the chair would be if there were one," suggested Tommy.

"No sitting this evening," declared the guardian. "You will all prepare for bed. At least two of you need rest--I mean Harriet and Tommy."

"Yeth, we alwayth need that. I never thhall get enough of it until after I have been dead ever and ever tho long."

"I am not sleepy, but, of course, being a leader now, I have to set a good example," said Harriet lightly.

Tommy squinted at her inquiringly, as if trying to decide whether or not it were prudent to take advantage of her now that Harriet was a leader officially. She decided to test the matter out at the first opportunity, but just now there was a matter of several hours' sleep ahead, so Tommy quickly prepared for sleep, after which, straightening out her blanket, she twisted herself up in it in a mummy roll with only the top of her tow-head and a pair of very bright little eyes observable over the top of the blanket.

Harriet waited until her companions had rolled up in their blankets; then she opened the door wide so that the ocean breeze blew in and swirled about the interior of the cabin in a miniature gale. The girls did not mind it at all. They thought it delicious. This was getting the real benefit of being at the sea sh.o.r.e. Harriet rolled in her blanket directly in front of the door with her head pillowed on the sill. To enter the cabin one would have to step over her. She went to sleep after lying gazing out over the sea for some time.

"What's that?" Harriet started up with a half-smothered exclamation. A report that sounded like the discharge of a gun had aroused her, or else she had been dreaming. She was not certain which it had been. The other girls were asleep, as was indicated by their regular breathing.

Harriet listened intently. She had not changed her position, but her eyes were wide open, looking straight out to sea. Nothing unusual was found there. She was about to close her eyes again when a peculiar creaking sound greeted her ears. Harriet knew instantly the meaning of the sound. It came from the straining of ropes on a sailboat.

Unrolling from the blanket and hastily dressing, the Meadow-Brook Girl crawled out to the bar, wishing to make her observations unseen by any one else. Now she saw it again, that same filmy cloud in the darkness, towering up in the air, moving almost phantom-like into the bay to the south of the cabin on Lonesome Bar.

"It's a boat. I believe it is the same one I saw in there before. But I can't be sure of that. I don't know boats well enough; then, again, the night is too dark to make certain. I don't know that it would be anything of importance if a boat were to run in here to anchor for the night. That evidently is what they propose doing," she thought.

That Harriet's surmise was correct was evidenced a few moments later when the boat's anchor splashed into the waters of the bay and the anchor chain rattled through the hawse hole. Harriet tried to get a clear idea of what the boat itself looked like, but was unable to do so on account of the darkness. Now the creak of oars was borne faintly to her ears; the sound ceased abruptly, then was taken up again.

"They are putting a boat ash.o.r.e!" muttered Harriet, who was now sitting on the sand, her hair streaming over her shoulder in the fresh, salty breeze. "I hope to goodness none of them comes out here.

The girls would be terribly frightened if they knew about this. I don't believe I shall tell them, unless--"

Harriet paused suddenly as the sound of men's voices was heard somewhere toward the land end of the bar. She walked around to the rear of the cabin, peering sh.o.r.eward. She made out faintly the figures of two men coming down the bar. They were carrying something between them--something that seemed to be heavy and burdensome, for the men were staggering under its weight.

The Meadow-Brook Girl realized that she was face to face with a mystery, but what that mystery was she could not even surmise, nor would she for some time to come. She determined to act, however, and that, if possible, without alarming her companions. Hesitating but a moment, Harriet stepped out boldly and started up the bar to meet the mysterious strangers with their heavy burden.

CHAPTER XIII

A STRANGE PROCEEDING

They did not appear to see her until Harriet was within a few yards of them.

Then they halted sharply, dropped their burden and straightened up.

The right hand of one of them slipped to his hip pocket, then a few seconds later was slowly withdrawn with a handkerchief in it.

"It's a girl," exclaimed one of the pair in a low voice.

"Well, what do you think about that?"

"h.e.l.lo, there, Miss! What is it? Who are ye?" demanded one of the men.

"I was about to ask the same question of you. What are you doing here?"

"This here is free coast, young woman. We've as good a right to be here as yourself, and maybe more right," returned the stranger.

"That depends, sir. I wish you wouldn't speak so loudly, either. You will awaken my companions. I would just as soon they did not see you, for I don't like the looks of you in the dark."

"Companions!" exploded one of the men under his breath. "Whew! Where are they?"

"In the cabin. We are occupying it now. Where were you going with that box? You know there is nothing but the sea beyond here. This is a bar.

The mainland is the other way. Perhaps you thought you were headed up the beach?"

"Sure we did, Miss. Thank you. We'll be going. Sorry to have disturbed you. Got some provisions for a friend of ours who is down this part of the coast on a fishing trip. Thank you."

They gathered up their burden and started back toward the beach as fast as they could stagger, Harriet in the meantime standing where they had left her, gazing after them with forehead wrinkled into ridges of perplexity. Harriet watched the men all the way back to the beach. She saw them put down the box they had been carrying and stand looking back at her. Harriet quickly retraced her steps to the cabin, in the shadow of which she halted and continued her watching.

The men stood for some time, evidently engaged in a discussion, though no sound of voices reached the listening girl. They then picked up their box and walked down the beach with it.

"That is odd. They said they were going up the beach with provisions for a friend. I don't understand this proceeding at all, but it looks questionable to me. I know what I'll do; I'll follow them."

The Meadow-Brook Girl did not stop to consider that she had decided upon a possibly dangerous adventure. Stooping over as low as possible and yet remain on her feet, Harriet ran full speed toward the beach.

She saw the men halt and put down the box, whereat the girl flattened herself on the sandy bar and lay motionless until, finally, they picked up their burden and went on. She was able to make out the sailboat anch.o.r.ed some little distance out in the bay.

"They must have brought the box off from the boat," she mused. "I wonder what is in it? I am positive that there is some mystery here.

It isn't my affair, but my woman's curiosity makes me wonder what it is all about. There they go again." She was up and off, this time reaching the beach before they put down the box again. Now Harriet was reasonably safe from discovery. She crouched close to the sandy bluff and lay watching. She saw one of the men put off in a rowboat, which he propelled rapidly over to the sailboat. He did not remain there long, and she saw him pulling back to sh.o.r.e as if in more haste than when he went out.

"Now they are going to do something," decided the watching girl. "Yes, they are going to take the box."

The men did. Picking it up, they carried it back in among the trees, Harriet following at a safe distance, picking her way cautiously, not making the slightest sound in moving about among the spindling pines.

Finally, realizing that the men had stopped, the girl crouched down with eyes and ears on the alert. She could hear them at work. They were not going ahead, but they were engaged in some occupation the nature of which for the moment puzzled Harriet Burrell. Then all at once the truth flashed into her mind.

"They are hiding the box!" exclaimed the girl under her breath. "But why are they doing that? What secret could be so dark that it needs hiding in the woods? I shall make it my business to find out. There, they are coming out."

She threw herself on the ground. She could hear the men approaching.

They seemed, from the sound of their voices, to be coming directly toward her. Harriet gathered herself ready for a spring in case of discovery, which now seemed imminent, then again flattened herself on the ground.

"I won't run until I have to," she decided. Courage was required for a girl to remain in Harriet's position under the circ.u.mstances, but Harriet Burrell had plenty of this and to spare. In the meantime the men were rapidly drawing near. They were conversing in low tones, but the girl in hiding on the ground was unable to make out what they were saying. Rather was her attention centered on what they were going to do, which was the all-important question at that moment. But Harriet was not left long in suspense. The men were coming straight toward her. She could see them quite plainly now, and wondered why they did not see her. It was evident that they had not yet done so, perhaps because they were so fully occupied with their own affairs.

Harriet Burrell braced herself. To rise would mean instant discovery; to remain as she was, possible avoidance of it. She decided upon the latter course and lay still. Within a minute the expected occurred.