Missing at Marshlands

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Missing at Marshlands Page 13

by Cleo F. Garis


  CHAPTER XIII The Tragic Messenger

  The wind increased in violence, and with the high tide of the afternoonthe surf pounded with wild fury. At Terry's home the rain lashed thewindows, and the awnings protested noisily against the gale. Ardenannounced blandly that she no longer felt "merry as a grig."

  "Let's play rummy, the storm makes me restless," Sim suggested.

  "If you feel restless now, I hate to think how you'll feel after threedays of it," Terry reminded her.

  "Three days!" Arden exclaimed. "I'll have to get out my tatting to keepme busy, I guess."

  "You can't tat, silly," Sim smiled. "Come on, let's play cards."

  Terry opened a painted card table, and they began a half-hearted game ofrummy. But Arden couldn't concentrate, so Terry and Sim told her to "giveup," whereat they abandoned the cards.

  "Listen to that old ocean," Arden remarked. "If you were out there now,Sim, it would take more than Melissa to pull you to safety."

  "Wasn't she great?" Sim asked. "She knew just how to go about it. Iwasn't scared, but I was beginning to tire. Melissa took me out beyondthe current, and then we struck a stroke and got in easily. Were youfrightened?"

  "We were a little," Terry admitted. "We weren't sure whether you were allright. I was ready to come out when Melissa dashed by us like a shot, andthen it seemed only a few seconds till you were back on the beach."

  "She's a marvelous swimmer," Sim said admiringly. "I wish she could leada more pleasant life, poor girl."

  "Chief Reilly didn't seem to think her father was so awful," Terryremarked.

  "Oh, Chief Reilly!" Arden exclaimed. "He doesn't seem to think muchanyway."

  "He doesn't have to think much. There's nothing for him to think aboutdown here. I don't know what he'd do if he ever had a real case," Terrywent on.

  "The excitement would probably be too much for him. I'll bet he readsdetective stories and has it all planned out just the way he'd conduct amurder inquiry," Arden laughed.

  "Yes," Sim agreed. "He'd probably go measuring footprints and looking forclues. Do you suppose he'd use bloodhounds?"

  "Why not?" Terry asked. "None of our well-known detectives ever usedbloodhounds, so it's reasonable to suppose that Detective Reilly would."

  "We're not so bad ourselves at solving mysteries. How about the AppleOrchard and Jockey Hollow?" Arden reminded them.

  "Of course--we're really very good," Terry agreed facetiously. "I coulddo with a nice mystery. This is ideal weather for it. Angry sea, howlingwind and dashing rain, big black clouds----"

  "Do you ever have any murders or serious crimes down here, Terry?" Simasked suddenly.

  "Yes--we had a very important one about three years ago. Reilly saw aheadless tiny body floating in the bay," Terry said dramatically.

  "No, really?" Arden and Sim were all attention.

  "Really," answered Terry. "But when they picked it up, it turned out tobe a doll some youngster dropped in the water."

  "Oh, Terry," Sim said throwing a pillow at her. "You had me all workedup."

  Terry laughed mischievously and threw the pillow back. A well aimed throwfrom Arden caught Terry squarely in the face with such force that thechair in which she was sitting went over backwards and Terry with it. Inthe scramble that followed they did not hear the scratching at the door.It was not until they took a little breathing spell that Arden cautionedthem to be quiet.

  "Ssh-sh a minute," she said. "Did you hear that scratching?"

  They listened. It came from the front door, and this time a bark alsocould be heard.

  "It's a dog!" Sim exclaimed, and getting up from the pile of cushions onthe floor she went to open the door.

  "Why, it's Tania!" Arden declared. "The poor dog! Look at her!"

  Poor dog indeed! The silky, white fur clung to her thin frame, and apiece of rope trailed from her collar. Like all dogs of her breed, shewas thin when in the best of condition, but now she looked worse thanthat. She seemed really like a poor starved animal.

  "She looks terrible," Arden exclaimed, and disregarding the wet fur shebegan to stroke the regally pointed head.

  "She's hungry. Look how thin she is. Let's give her something to eat,"Terry suggested, already starting toward the kitchen.

  Tania was extremely grateful for the food Terry put before her and ateravenously, while the girls murmured soothingly to the grateful dog.

  "But how strange that she should get like this," Terry reminded them."Dimitri always takes such good care of her."

  "And that old rope, the end looks frayed off. Do you suppose----" Ardenlooked at her chums with terror in her eyes. This, coming directly aftertheir talk, joking as it was, about murders, gave them all a shocked,sudden pause. It seemed horrible even to imagine that Dimitri----

  "Oh, Arden! How awful! We haven't seen Dimitri for a week. Do youthink----" Terry was too frightened to put intelligible questions.

  Arden nodded her head solemnly. "I'm afraid so," she said in a quietvoice. "Something must have happened on board the _Merry Jane_."

  For the first time the girls realized how interested they had become inDimitri. His charming manners, his accent, his appearance, and the almostmysterious aloofness he maintained, all went to make him most attractive.Now that they feared foul play might have overtaken him, it was dismayingeven to guess what had happened on the lonely houseboat.

  But poor mute Tania could not tell them her story.

 

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