The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

The little camp had been placed back a short distance in the grove, where a more open space occurred, with smaller trees and bushes. It had pleased Elizabeth here, though she said that she was being cut off from a view of the sea. But it was better so, more retired, and the smaller trees were, safer neighbors in a storm than the tall ones. Lovely ferns, vines entwining the trees, and wild flowers grew about them.

  Beth was in the tent, still straightening and unpacking but the three outside watched the pretty horse and its straight rider. The gentleman dismounted, fastened the horse to a tree, and walked toward them.

  “Good morning,” he said, and the young people returned the greeting. Everything was in perfect taste about the riding costume, Leslie noticed. The gentleman rather nervously flexed a small whip in his gloved hands and looked sharply with keen black eyes from one to another, addressing Dalton in particular. “I am told that you have purchased this place and are about to build a house of some sort upon it.”

  “Yes, sir. My father bought the ground something over two years ago.”

  “Are you sure that the purchase was completed?”

  “Yes, sir. We hold the deed and I preserved the check that my father gave for the land, when we came across it in going through his papers.”

  “Where is the deed?” The gentleman spoke a little abruptly, Leslie thought. Who in the world could he be?

  “The deed is in the bank at home, but I suppose if you want to assure yourself of our right here, you could consult the records here. I’m not sure just where the place is where the deed was recorded, but my sister will know. Leslie, please ask Beth to come.”

  “That is not necessary,” impatiently their caller said. “I am sorry to tell you, but I am quite sure that your title is not clear. I understood that this land belonged to me. It is certainly included in the description upon the deed that I hold.”

  “It is very strange,” said Dalton. “I think that you must be mistaken. When did you purchase the land to which you refer?”

  Leslie was proud of Dalton. He talked just like Father and was so dignified and nice without being “mad.”

  The gentleman hesitated. “It is part of a tract which I acquired some time ago. If I were, you I would not go on building, for I should certainly not sell this land on the bay. It is too bad, but why can you not look up a camp at some other place upon the coast? I know of several excellent places to be purchased at a low price. Indeed, considering the matter from your standpoint, I might part with a strip of land some forty miles from here for merely a nominal price.”

  The man was almost fascinating when he smiled in this persuasive way, Sarita was thinking, but why so suave and urgent?

  Dalton smiled. “If I have to prove that I own it, so do you,” he said, “and I think that I will not consider anything else just now. Perhaps it would be just as well not to go on with the building, though I have already ordered some material. If this should prove to be your land, I will pay you for occupancy, but we’ll just continue to camp here. My older sister is very tired after her teaching and likes this place. My father’s plans were all made and we expect to carry them out in part. But we will not destroy anything, and I will not cut down the trees that I intended until we look into the matter at the courthouse.”

  That this did not please the gentleman was quite evident. He frowned. “I should like you to leave at once,” he said at last.

  “I do not intend to leave at once, sir,” sharply said Dalton. “May I ask your name?”

  “Yes. I am the owner of Steeple Rocks and have my summer home there. I should advise you to leave. My name is Ives. I am wondering if you are yet of age. I understand that your father is not living?”

  “No, I am not of age, and it is true that my father is not living.”

  “Who, then, is the executor of your estate?”

  “My sister is executrix, the older one. We have a friend, though, who is our lawyer whenever we need one. If necessary, I can write to consult him about this; but you can easily find out whether or not our deed is recorded.”

  “That is not the question, young man. The question is whether the man of whom your father bought the land had any right to it. You will avoid trouble if you leave the place. My lawyer will look into the matter. A few days, of course, will make no difference. There is a truck on my place which I should be willing to lend you for the transfer.”

  With a business-like air, Mr. Ives took a card from his pocket and wrote something upon it with a shining gold pencil. Dalton, Leslie and Sarita watched him with various expressions. Dalton’s face was firm and sober. Leslie’s eyes were contracted a little as if she were sizing up a suspicious character. Sarita wore a look of bright interest. This was an adventure.

  Handing the card to Dalton, Mr. Ives said, “That is the name of the little village where I can permit you to camp, or can offer you land with a clear title. One reason that we like this place is its comparative isolation and we want to keep our holding large and intact. But you would doubtless enjoy more companionship and that you will find in the other community. The homes are scattered, however, and the beach and views are beyond criticism. As I said, in view of your disappointment about this, I can afford to be generous.”

  Dalton glanced at the address on Mr. Ives’ personal and listened to what was said. “I see your point, Mr. Ives,” he replied, “but none of us intend in any way to disturb the quiet of Steeple Rocks. We, too, like the wildness of the place, as well as the feeling that we are on land that our father admired. My sister is an artist and rocks and woods appeal to her. Thank you for the offer of the truck, but we’ll not be moving till we find out definitely the facts in the case.”

  “If you will call, I will give you such information as you want about my ownership,” Mr. Ives said, in the tone of speaking to an obstinate boy. Quickly he turned away, and a silent group watched him until he disappeared among the trees. Then Sarita dropped to the ground and sat holding her knees. “Well, what do you think of that!” she cried, “Going to tell Beth, Dal?”

  “No; not a word, please, girls. Beth is too happy to have her fun spoiled and her sleep disturbed by a new problem.” Dalton sat down on an old stump and Leslie dropped beside Sarita.

  “She got out her pencils and paints and things a little while ago,” said Leslie, “and she was unpacking her easel when I left the tent. That accounts, perhaps for her not coming out. I wonder she didn’t hear Mr. Ives. There she comes, now.”

  “Let me handle it, please, Les,” said her brother in a low voice. “Hello, Beth, getting ready to paint up the place?”

  “Yes, I’m taking my easel out on the rocks. I must get a sketch right away of the bay and Cathedral Rocks. I thought I heard another voice out here, but I was too lazy and busy with my traps to come out.”

  “You don’t want to see anybody, do you, Beth? Well, this was only the man that lives across the bay, or around the bay, as you like, the man of Steeple Rocks. I imagine that he wouldn’t mind your sketching them. What do you think, girls?”

  Dalton’s voice was so sarcastic that Beth laughed.

  “You didn’t like him, that’s certain. I’m glad that I didn’t come out. He can’t help my sketching his rocks, however. Oh, isn’t it too glorious here! I thought that you were going to take a swim as soon as the tide was right.”

  “The girls are, I guess, and I’m tempted, too; but Beth, I think that I’d be more sensible to hike out and see about our building affairs and one thing and another. I may get a horse in the village and ride to the station, too, to see about the other junk that’s to come. You won’t be afraid without me, will you, girls?”

  “No, indeed,” Leslie declared. “Besides, Sarita and I are going to put up our target and practice a little. Bail us out if we get arrested for shooting, Dal. But if they hear it at the village at all, it may warn anybody of ‘hostile intent.’”

  “I don’t like to hear you speak in that way, Leslie,” said Beth, with decision. “It is right for you to learn, I th
ink, but use the greatest care, please. Load just before you try for the target and be sure that all your cartridges have been exploded. If you never get reckless or careless it is all right. You’d better fix your target in front of the rocks, too. Then there will be no possibility of someone’s coming through the trees to get shot.”

  “My, Beth, you think of everything don’t you? We’ll not do it at all, if it makes you nervous, and I promise you, up and down and ‘cross my heart,’ that no ‘weepon’ is going to be left loaded. In case of an attack by Indians, we shall have cartridges handy anyhow.”

  “In case of a large band of Indians,” grinned Dalton, rising from the stump, “there are plenty of cartridges in my tent.”

  “Just think,” said Sarita, looking around at the spruces and ferns, “once there were Indians all over this place. I ’spect they liked it, too.”

  “I ’spect they did,” returned Dalton, “and I ’spect that they and the white men had a great time trying to drive each other off.” With his back to Beth, Dalton winked at Leslie. “Girls,” he added in a new tone, “whatever happens, I’m going to take one dip with you. Come on. Everybody into bathing suits!”

  Beth was already strolling toward her rocks, but one more unusual adventure was in store for the others. It was not quite as convenient as if their property sloped directly to the beach, but the trail was not long to a descent whose footing was not too impossible.

  Presently they were on their way, Dalton running ahead, with his bathrobe over his arm, the girls in their coats over their bathing suits, for the breeze was a little cool. Yet the sun was warm, and the lapping waves of a smooth sea invited them.

  “Dal says,” Leslie was saying, “that he is going to find out where the deed is recorded and he may be able to get into touch with the man of whom Father bought the place. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back. Let’s get Beth to bed early tonight. It will be easy, because she is ordered to do it, you know. Then she won’t know if Dalton doesn’t get back. Will you be afraid?”

  “Very likely, but it has to be done. Mr. Ives looked rich. Don’t you suppose that he could even get the records fixed up if he wanted to?”

  “I don’t know. I should imagine that we’d have some account of the recording, some receipt, or something. I don’t know much about such things, but Dal will find out, and Beth, too, if we have to tell her. Oh, if Beth can have only a few weeks of rest, it will be enough! Mercy, what’s that?”

  The girls looked back along the narrow, weed-grown trail. A loud clattering on the rocky way announced the coming of a horse at some speed. The girls drew off among some bushes. They were startled to see a great black horse dashing over the uneven ground and a frightened girl clinging to reins and saddle, with no control of the animal. A white face and tight-set lips flashed by, as the horse swerved suddenly, almost unseating its rider. Then it dashed on.

  “It shied at us,” said Sarita. “Look. She’s trying to shake loose from the stirrups—to jump, I suppose. My! There’s that pretty nearly straight-up-and-down place just beyond where we go down to the beach!”

  Leslie set her teeth together and shivered. “Poor girl! But perhaps the horse won’t fall. At that pace I’m afraid it will kill her to jump.”

  Both girls started to run forward, as a turn in the cliff and the trail took the horse and its rider out of sight for a few moments, behind a clump of wind-blown pines and some bushes. But the girls hurried around to where they could see the road again, and they wondered where Dalton might be.

  “If Dal has gotten to the beach,” said Leslie, “we’ll have to call him to help, in case of a bad accident.”

  “It is pretty level after that one place,” Sarita answered, “and perhaps someone at the village will catch—”

  But they heard a frightened scream. Now they could see the scene clearly. What was the girl doing? And there stood Dalton at the side of the trail opposite the cliff’s edge. His feet were apart, bracing his body, for his arms were outstretched to catch the girl. There went a flying, falling figure—and Dalton, under the impact, fell too. What a crash among the bushes!

  CHAPTER III

  PEGGY IVES

  The running girls reached the scene just as Dalton and the girl who had jumped from the horse were picking themselves up and out of some blackberry bushes. Leslie was relieved to see that Dalton was disentangling himself with all his limbs in working order.

  “Oh! oh! Didn’t I kill you, falling on you that way? I ought to have known better, but you held up your hands, you know. Say, I could have chosen some bushes that weren’t blackberry bushes, though!”

  Somewhat hysterical Leslie thought the young lady, but when she knew her better, she found that this was Peggy Ives’ usual style of conversation.

  “Just look a little farther on and you will see why any bushes would do,” said Dalton, pulling a long blackberry branch from her dress and giving her his hand to help her up.

  “Say, you are all scratched up, too, and you even had the sense to throw your robe over the bush—not that it did much good! I’m full of prickles, but I am certainly much obliged!”

  By this time the young girl was on her feet, looking questioningly at the girls who had stepped up closely.

  “Are you hurt, Dal?” Leslie inquired.

  “Not to amount to anything—a few scratches.”

  “And a bump or two,” added the new acquaintance.

  “I caught you sideways,” said Dalton, “and only eased your fall. Are you sure that you are whole?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m not feeling so good, but neither are you. My name is Peggy Ives.”

  “Mine is Dalton Secrest and this is my sister Leslie.”

  Leslie, rather ashamed of having asked after her brother’s safety first, held out her hand to Peggy and asked if she could not help get out some of the prickles. Sarita was introduced while they drew out of the bushes and crossed the trail to the edge of the cliff, where there were rocks to make seats for them.

  Peggy limped a little and Leslie put an arm around her, finding Peggy a slim little thing, glad of someone to lean upon. Dalton still stood by the blackberry bushes, getting rid of briars, and wiping off the result of some scratches, with a handkerchief which he had found in his bathrobe pocket.

  “What became of my horse?” Peggy asked. “Did either of you see it?”

  “Yes,” Sarita answered. “He ran on and fell, but he must have picked himself up, for I looked down the road a minute ago and he wasn’t there.”

  “I am going to ‘catch it’ at home. Oh, here they come!”

  They all looked up the road, in the direction of Steeple Rocks, to see Mr. Ives and a pleasant-looking youth of perhaps Dalton’s age. Both were riding, their horses carefully held in to keep them from stumbling. “Did you get thrown, Peggy?” the boy asked, as Peggy rose and limped out toward them.

  “No. I jumped. That boy over there—”

  “Never mind, Peggy,” said Mr. Ives impatiently. “Jack says that you bolted into the woods and left him. Where is your horse?”

  “I don’t know. This girl says that she saw him roll down the hill, but he isn’t there now. They were ever so kind to me—”

  Peggy seemed fated to be interrupted, for Mr. Ives again broke in upon her speech to direct the boy to give Peggy his horse and go down into the village to find the other. “If you can’t find him, go to Bill’s and get a horse to bring you home.”

  Peggy was helped upon the other horse, after a vain effort to introduce Mr. Ives to the girls. Dalton had thrown his bathrobe around his shoulders and started for the beach as soon as he had seen the Ives delegation approaching. “I have met them, Peggy,” Mr. Ives had said shortly. “You did not see me bow to them.”

  “Neither did we,” said Sarita, a moment after Peggy, looking back with a smile and wave, had ridden away.

  “Neither did we what?” asked Leslie.

  “See Mr. Ives bow to us.”

  “Well, he gave us a look anyway, and
maybe he did bow. I didn’t think about it.”

  “Scene number two in the Secrest-Ives meller-dramer!” Sarita went on.

  Leslie laughed. “What brilliant idea have you now, Sarita? What was scene number one? Mr. Ives’ appearance?”

  “Yes. Villain appears, threatens hero. Scene two, villain’s daughter rescued by the hero. Leading lady, star of the movies, yet to be discovered. Perhaps she is the villain’s daughter.”

  “She is a nice little thing, isn’t she? I imagine that she is a little younger than we are, but it’s hard to tell. She has a funny streak—telling Dal that she could have chosen the bushes!”

  “I liked her, and Mr. Ives can be just as nice as pie, but he wants to get rid of us, that’s clear, and he doesn’t like it that Dal isn’t more upset and scared about it.”

  “Smart girl. That’s what I think, too. But I wouldn’t say that he is really a ‘villain.’ Perhaps he is right. Wouldn’t it be too bad if there was something crooked about the title and Father didn’t know it! The only thing is, I can’t imagine that Father would buy a piece of land without knowing all about it.”

  “And your dad a lawyer, too!”

  “Exactly. But look at Dal, going in anyhow! The salt water will nearly kill him with those scratches!”

  They did not stay in the water long on this first occasion, but they all found it invigorating and Dalton insisted that after the first he did not notice the scratches. “I’m hurrying off now,” he said, after they came out of the water. “I’ll probably have to get the name of the man Father bought the place of from the deed. I wish we’d brought our deed with us. Perhaps Beth will remember it, and I can ask her casually, ‘by the way, Beth, do you remember,’ and so forth?”

  “I’ll ask her, and tell you. You’ll not be dressed before we get there.”

  “No. Take your time. Don’t hurry Sarita up the cliff and maybe have some accident yourself. Turned out to be Ives’ daughter?”

  “Yes, I suppose so, by the way he bossed her, and her name is Peggy Ives. Didn’t you kind of like her?”

  “A smart little thing. She screamed just before she jumped; but she was plucky about her bruises. I shouldn’t be surprised but she sprained her ankle. Get acquainted, girls. Perhaps the stern parent will relent toward us.”