CHAPTER III The Russian
When the storm was over and the late summer sun came out for a brief halfhour before settling down for the night, there was hardly a hint of rainleft. The sandy ground absorbed the water almost as quickly as it fell,leaving only tiny pock-marks behind.
The girls opened doors and windows to capture the cool air, and Arden letthe porch awnings down and jumped back just in time to escape a smallcascade as the rain water tumbled free of the canvas pocket.
Then Arden and Sim, Terry and her mother sat on the comfortably screenedporch and watched night fold her dark-blue wings over everything.
"Funniest thing the way that 'Tess-of-the-Storm-Country' creature peekedin at the window and then ran away," Terry observed dreamily. "Who couldshe have been?"
"I suppose she saw Dimitri Uzlov coming up the path and was frightened.That dog of his certainly looked like nothing human," Sim replied.
"A case of 'see what the storm blew in,'" Arden chuckled. "But don't youthink he's fascinating? I love his accent."
Terry's mother gave a little laugh.
"You youngsters always find something romantic in the most everydayoccurrences, don't you? But you mustn't bother Mr. Uzlov. He seems aserious young man, and he hinted, quite charmingly, that he would ratherbe alone. Well--" she smothered a little yawn--"I'm going to bed. It mustbe half-past ten. Good-night, girls."
"Oh--Mother--" Terry drawled--"as if we'd bother him."
That was one of the nicest things about Terry's mother. She neverintruded, and any advice she gave was always offered in a way that theycould not possibly object to. But this evening her well-meant plan ofleaving them alone to talk was not needed, for they soon followed herinto the house, and after talking a while in sleepy monosyllables,without much ceremony fell asleep in comfortable beds.
The next morning brought a blue-and-gold day with a stiff northwest windkicking up whitecaps on Bottle Bay. "Buckingham Palace" stood on a littleneck of land, with the ocean on one side and the bay on the other.
"Let's take the rowboat and go down the bay a bit," Terry suggested."It's too cold for bathing."
"We could take a look at the houseboat without disturbing the hermit,"Arden remarked. "Maybe----"
"Exactly what I had in mind," Terry said. "You're positively uncanny,Arden, the way you read people's minds. We don't need to mention it toMother, though."
It was after breakfast, and the girls were sitting on the bottom step ofthe porch, idly watching tiny ants rebuild their houses that had beenwashed away in the storm.
"Let me row, Terry, will you?" Sim asked. "I'm going to start in trainingthis very day, and when we go back to Cedar Ridge in the fall I'll be thechampion swimmer of the college," she bragged.
"You can row, all right, I've no desire to raise blisters on mylily-white palms," Terry answered her, and going to the door of the houseshe called: "Mother, we're going for a little row in the bay. The girlswant to take a look around. Yes, we'll be careful. 'Bye!"
On the bay side an old though seaworthy rowboat was moored, covered witha canvas which had kept out the rain. They quickly pulled off the cover,and Terry took the oars from their place. With a few uncertain pushes,they finally made one strong enough to get started.
They were wearing shorts with sneakers, and bright handkerchiefs knottedat their throats; no hats, but Sim had tied a ribbon like Alice inWonderland around her head to keep her short curls in place. It wasbecoming, too, and perhaps Sim knew that.
"Now let's see how good you are, Sim," Terry suggested. "Hail thechampion----"
"I'm not good at all, but I will be. Arden, you get in thewhat-do-you-call it--stern--the back, and, Terry, you sit there, too,then you can watch me and tell where we're going." Sim found a place tobrace her heels and grasping the oars began to back water until theycould turn.
"Don't just row down there and bump into the houseboat. Pretend we'regoing some place else," Arden suggested. "We don't want to appear socurious."
"It won't make much difference; the wind is taking us there, anyway.Oh--ouch!" Sim exclaimed. "I caught my fingers between the oars." Sheshook her hands quickly to "throw off" the pain.
"Well, don't let the oar go, silly!" Terry cautioned quickly. "Oh, Sim,you lovely chump, there it goes!"
The oar, as though pulled by the water, slipped out of the oarlock andfloated away entirely unconcerned.
"Here, give me the other one, I'll paddle," Terry cried, reaching for theone faithful remaining oar.
Sim tried to hand it to her and in so doing gave Arden a little bump onthe head.
"Oh, Sim, you're hitting me," Arden squealed.
"Sorry!" grunted Sim.
"Fine bunch of sailors you are. You can't paddle against this wind. Lookwhere we're going!" Arden was indicating the shore line. The houseboatwas only a few hundred feet away now, in a little cove, down the bay fromTerry's house, the distance being about a half mile.
"We're going right toward it. What'll we do?" Sim wailed. "We'll hit itin a minute!"
"Oh, hush, Sim! We can't help it. Stick out the oar, Terry, so we don'tbump too hard," Arden ordered.
Terry tried her best, but the oar slipped to one side, and the boatrammed the houseboat with a little bump that, to the girls, sounded likea crash.
Instantly there was a ferocious barking, and the girls could hear a call:"Tania! Tania!" and then a rush of words uttered in a soothing tone.
They sat quite still, an embarrassed little group, while their lazy oldcraft hugged the side of the houseboat.
"Sim Westover," Arden hissed, "I could cheerfully duck you, clothes andall. What will the man think?"
"But, Arden----" began Sim, and then stopped as she heard footsteps onthe upper deck of the boat near them.
Dimitri Uzlov had come on deck and was gazing down at them silently. Theylooked back, uncertain how to explain their presence. Arden spoke:
"We're sorry to have disturbed you, but we lost an oar and the boatdrifted over here."
"I let it slip," Sim added a little nervously. "I'm not very good atrowing, I'm afraid." She smiled up at him apologetically.
He still looked down at them, saying nothing, half amused and half angry,apparently.
"If you could lend us an oar we could row over and get ours," Terrysuggested. "We'd bring yours right back."
Suddenly the young man burst out laughing, and they all felt better, somuch better that they joined in the laugh themselves.
"You are char-r-rming," he chuckled. "Of course you may take my oar; Iwill get it for you," and he disappeared from sight as if he had droppeddown a hatchway.
"See!" Arden whispered gleefully. "Isn't he nice?"
Then they heard him call: "Can you push down to this end of my castle? Myrowboat is moored here."
Terry poled the boat in the shallow water, for the houseboat was tied upat the shore, to the place Dimitri indicated.
There was a boat similar to theirs fast to the larger craft. Dimitrihanded Terry the oar, smiling.
"Do you think you can recover your own?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, easily," replied Terry. "I'll row this time."
Sim climbed to the stern a little humbly and sat panting while Terry,with long strokes, pulled toward the deeper water where their oar wasbobbing about in the sunlight.
"Grab it, Sim," she called when they reached it, "and don't murder anyonewith it!"
Sim grabbed and recovered the dripping wooden shaft successfully and alsogratefully.
"Now we'll take his back," Terry went on, and turned their craft towardthe houseboat.
Tania once more barkingly announced their arrival, and Dimitri appearedat the signal.
"Will you come on board and rest for a minute?" he invited hospitably."It was unfortunate that you lost your oar."
"I don't know whether we ought----" began Terry but Arden, seeing hissmiling face take on an embarrassed look, interrupted with:
"We'd lov
e to, for just a second. I've never been on a houseboat."
Terry tied their boat up near his, and the three girls went around to thestern of the houseboat over a little boardwalk and up the rickety stairsto the deck of the floating old craft.
There they hesitated. Tania was keeping up a barrage of barking, showingher fangs and growling at intervals.
"Please, if you will come with me," Dimitri said. "I will impress on herthat you are my friends."
They followed him guardedly. "Tania, come here," he ordered sternly. Thebig white-and-tan dog stood like a statue. "Come here!" her masterrepeated. Tania walked toward him with queenly dignity.
Dimitri then put his hand on Arden's arm. "These are my friends," hesaid; and then to the girls: "I will tell her that in Russian, and shewill be sure to understand. Then if you will each pat her head, you willbe fast friends." He smiled enthusiastically.
The little ceremony of introduction was carried out, and Tania ceased herworried barking. The dog put a dainty paw on Arden's white shorts as ifto reassure them all most completely.
"Such a lovely dog," murmured Sim.
"And intelligent, too," added Terry.
"I will have pleasure in showing you my little floating home here, if youwould like to see it," said Mr. Uzlov, smiling his invitation. "It is thefirst time I have ever lived on a houseboat. They are rather strangecreatures, is it not so?" Again he smiled.
"This one is very old," Terry said. "I don't know how many years it hasbeen here. It belongs to Mr. Reilly, the town chief of police. This isthe first time it's been rented in I don't know how long. I think youhadn't better try to move it either by sail or an outboard motor," shewarned with a laugh. "I fancy it would leak like a sieve."
"Doubtless," he agreed, also laughing. "But I shall be safe enough on myboat. I don't intend to move her, and probably she rests on the muddybottom of this bay and marshy land."
The houseboat was not large. It consisted of a sort of large shed, withwindows, doors, and a flat roof perched on what had once been a scow.There was a narrow space running all around the house part, between itand a low rail. There was a small float at one end to which a rowboat wasmade fast. From the float a cleated plank gave access to the lower deckof the boat, if a deck it could be called. There was also a short flightof rather rickety steps at the stern by which the girls had come aboard.The houseboat had once been painted green, but little of the originalcolor remained.
"Will you follow me?" Dimitri Uzlov requested, opening a sagging doorwhich led into the rear part of the houseboat. "This is where I do mywork."
The girls saw that the interior of the craft consisted of really but onelarge room, divided by heavy hanging curtains into two apartments. Theone they had entered did the double duty of a sleeping and working space,for there was a cot in one corner. On a table gleamed a bright brasssamovar with some dishes about it. There was an easel and on a chair nearit brushes in pots, tubes of paint, and a much-smeared palette. Thecurtained-off part was the kitchen.
"I am finishing a marine for a client," the artist said, indicating thehalf-finished canvas on the easel.
Arden and her chums noticed several canvases stacked together near onewall, and standing beside a window was another easel with a picture onit. But what the subject of this picture was could not be seen, for itwas covered with a sheet.
"Oh, how lovely it is here!" Arden exclaimed. "To have a place all yourown to do just as you please in and no need to worry about neighborslooking in your windows!"
"At least I am sufficiently isolated here," the Russian agreed. "Thehouseboat is hard to come at. I always loved marshlands. That is onereason I was attracted to this boat, old and shabby as it is."
"It's wonderful, I think," murmured Sim.
"But a little lonesome," suggested Terry.
"I came here for lonesomeness--as one reason," Mr. Uzlov said.
Arden glanced at the exposed picture showing a stormy ocean with seagulls fighting the wind. Dimitri smiled understanding as she said:
"It is lovely!"
The artist seemed to be losing some of his reluctance.
Arden walked over toward the other painting--the one covered with asheet. She wondered what it could be.
"What is this?" she asked, extending a hand as though to lift thecovering. "Is it your masterpiece?"
Instantly the young man's face clouded.
"Please--that--do not touch it--please! It is--unfinished. I cannot showit to you. I am sorry!"
His first words had been hurried--stiff--exclamatory. The girls at oncesensed a change in his manner. But his last word had been almostpleading. Even then it seemed as if his friendliness, which had been sopronounced on the arrival of his visitors, was now as covered as was thepicture.
Arden drew back as if hurt.
"I didn't mean to be curious," she faltered. "I'm sorry!" Even her wordssounded empty of meaning.
Another change came over the face of Dimitri Uzlov.
"You will be so good as to pardon me for my seeming ill haste," hemurmured. "But that picture--no--it must not be seen--yet."
Matters were becoming a little strained and awkward, but Terry went intothe breach cleverly by saying:
"We had better be going. It must be nearly lunch time. Mother will beexpecting us. Thank you for your help, Mr. Uzlov, and for letting us seeyour houseboat."
He did not try to stop them, nor did he express regret at their suddendeparture, but simply said good-bye and then watched them pull away inthe waiting rowboat.
"Queerest person I ever met," Terry began. "One minute all sunshine andgladness, and the next, all worked up because Arden asked about his oldpicture."
"I wouldn't have touched it, anyway," Arden replied. "I was just tryingto show a little interest. My goodness! Who would want to live in such amessy place? No one but the sort they call--artists!"
"I wonder what the hidden picture was?" Sim asked curiously. "Perhapshe's a spy, making maps of the coast and inlet."
"Now who said they refused to get mixed up in another mystery?" Terryjeered. "Well, let's go home, I'm hungry."
"So am I, but I would like to know what was on that easel," Sim remarkedas Terry pulled with strong strokes back to "Buckingham Palace."
Missing at Marshlands Page 3