The Best Wadsworth Camp Mysteries. Charles Wadsworth Camp
for some form of persuasion.
“If my father should leave? He has thought of it. He does not like it. If he should take me away would you give it up and leave with us?”
He smiled
“In that case I think pride would go by the board.”
“Then—” she began, and stopped.
The chugging of a gasoline engine reached them from the inlet.
“It is he,” she said. “He may go to your boat, for I know he likes you. Hurry back. Don’t tell him you have seen me. No one must see me here.”
“Except me, and you will come to me here again?” he bargained.
The exhaust of the engine was nearer. She looked wildly around her. Swiftly she stooped and touched her lips to his hand, then she turned and ran up the beach, glancing back at him.
CHAPTER XIII
THE BIVOUAC IN THE MARSHES
Miller walked across the dunes, elated at first by the fugitive caress, but after a moment his depression returned, heavier than before. He had hoped the interview would lead to some solution of Tony’s adventure, to the unveiling of the entire affair. Yet all it had brought him on that side was the girl’s avowal that she possessed an instinct which warned her when the lurking danger gathered itself menacingly.
He stepped into the dingy and pushed off. Before he had reached the boat Morgan came opposite him.
“Want to fish? ” Morgan called. “I’m going to try my luck at the lower end of the inlet.”
“Haven’t breakfasted,” Miller answered, “Bring your boat over.”
Morgan stopped his engine, pulled at the tiller, and drifted close. Miller studied him reflectively. Why was it that the pleasant little man surrounded his daughter with such cold reserve? Some unhappy family chapter, perhaps? That would also explain her repeated suggestions that nothing could come of their love. Or was the cause to be traced wholly to the girl herself? At any rate this one subject, as the constraint in the cupola yesterday reminded him, altered Morgan’s genial personality completely. Certainly he was good-humoured enough now.
“I see you got back all right last evening. Didn’t see any women in white?”
“That’s what I wished to speak to you about,” Miller answered. “No orthodox ghosts, but something more puzzling.”
Morgan was curious. He asked meaningly:
“In that piece of woods?”
Miller nodded, and told him of Tony’s experience. As he spoke the good humour faded from Morgan’s face. He listened dejectedly.
“What next?” he exclaimed when Miller had finished. “Thank heavens this wasn’t another coroner’s case. Who’ll be the third? See here. Miller, I was really anxious to run you out in my launch last night. I didn’t press the point, because I didn’t want to appear ridiculous. But I don’t feel right about that piece of woods. We’ve had warning enough now. Even before anything happened, as I told you, the Andersons and I preferred to walk it by day. Now here’s the cat bitten there, and Jake, and this unaccountable affair of last night. There’s no answer. What in the name of heaven is wrong?”
“I am going to find out what’s wrong,” Miller answered grimly. “I am going to satisfy myself about that piece of woods before I get through with it.”
“You’re young. Frankly, I’m afraid of it,” Morgan answered.
He sighed.
“If this sort of thing keeps up I suppose sooner or later I’ll have to get out. And the plantation seemed just what we wanted. It’s lonely enough now. Why don’t you come over and spend the night tonight? We can have a game of chess, and I’ll promise to get you to bed early.”
“I’m sorry,” Miller said. “The Andersons have asked me to have dinner and stay with them. Another time.”
“I wish you would,” Morgan urged.
He laughed uncomfortably.
“Here I am crying for company! Well, one can’t always analyse. There is just an unpleasant feeling about the house after dark.”
He started his engine and prepared to swing off.
“Sorry you won’t try your luck with the fishes.”
Miller tried with poor success to make his voice derisive.
“Wraiths are much more tempting game to-day.”
“But scarcely as likely to rise to bait, I’m afraid,” Morgan answered with a frown.
“Speaking of fish,” Miller went on, “reminds me I’ve yet to call on that fisherman over there.”
He turned and gazed at the low hulk, again apparently abandoned. Morgan followed his glance. A troubled look replaced his frown.
“Funny business, that!” he muttered. “What’s he here for, and where is he most of the time?”
“I’d like to know,” Miller said. “The other day you asked me not to judge any of you too harshly until I’d been at the island a reasonable length of time myself. I’m almost ashamed to suspect that my fitness for judgment at all is decidedly in question. Anderson has spoken to me of a ridiculous fancy. He said that fellow seemed no more real than the atmosphere of the island—in fact, was symbolical of the whole thing.”
“Ridiculous, of course,” Morgan answered. “Yet I think I understand what Anderson meant”
“I think I can understand, too,” Miller said. “That’s why I no longer venture to judge.”
Morgan expressed Miller’s fancy of the other day.
“That boat looks like a wreck—a wreck on which somebody has died hard.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Miller replied, “but of course it’s all nonsense. There’s nothing supernatural anywhere—least of all there. But, I must confess, it startles me to have such thoughts at all; to feel, even subconsciously, the impulse to harbor them. Besides, I’ve seen the man,”
“Yet, you know,” Morgan said, “he isn’t often to be seen; and, if Anderson raised the question as to whether anybody had touched him, or heard his voice, or caught him expressing an emotion—Well? What could I say? What could you? You’ve had your eyes on him. That’s all. And how often?”
“Only once,” Miller answered, “yesterday when I was starting through the woods to call on you.”
“I’ve been here a long time,” Morgan said, “yet I’ve seen him scarcely more than you. I’ve called to him. So has Anderson.”
Miller thrust his hands in’ his pockets.
“I hailed him yesterday. No answer. No move.”
“The few times I’ve had a chance to look at him,” Morgan said, “he’s been like that.”
“Anderson told me you’d been aboard.”
“Yes,” Morgan answered,” rather a foolish expedient to lay that mystery. It amounted to nothing. If there had been anybody watching I’d have appeared a fool.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. The puzzle of that wreck, the absence of the man, the lack of any sign of him—it all got on my nerves. I’m afraid I lost my temper.”
“One does sometimes experience here a helpless feeling bordering on rage,” Miller agreed. “At any rate I’m going to