THE SECRET CODE
The next morning the two girls were up with the sun. “I feel as
though something unusual is going to happen today,” Virginia said as
she poured the coffee and smiled over at Margaret.
“So do I,” that maiden replied as she turned the toast when it was
just the right crispy brown. “I keep thinking and thinking of poor
Babs. Here it is only the first of January and she can’t come to
visit us until the middle of June.”
“You will be surprised, Megsy, how quickly the time will pass,”
Virginia declared and then they talked of Peyton, wondering what had
become of him.
“If he is a happy-go-lucky, tender-hearted, easily led sort of a
boy,” Virg said, “I am afraid that, being angered by his father, he
may do many things that he might regret, perhaps when it is too
late.”
“It is the not really knowing that makes it so hard for Babs,”
Margaret said. “If she knew even the worst, she could face it more
bravely.”
There was a sudden exclamation from the western girl who had chanced
to glance out of the wide window and over the sandy stretch of
desert that was glistening in the early sunshine.
“A horse and rider are coming at top speed,” she said. “How I do
hope that Malcolm is returning.”
The girls went out on the veranda and stood arm in arm awaiting the
coming of, they knew not whom. As the rider neared, Virginia,
looking through her glasses exclaimed: “Oh, it is only Pasqual, a
small Mexican boy whose father is one of the Slater Range riders.
Perhaps he is on his way to the Junction. If so, he will turn at Dry
Creek and ride up the mesa trail.”
They watched a moment in silence and then Virginia remarked: “He
didn’t turn and so he must be coming here. How I hope that he has a
message from Malcolm. Brother has been away for three days now and I
haven’t heard a word. I cannot help feeling troubled if I do not
hear at least that often. So many dangers lurk on a desert, and now,
added to them, is that outlaw who is supposed to be hiding in our
mountains.”
The girls went out on the veranda as the small boy approached. He
removed his gayly adorned peaked hat and took from it a letter,
which he handed to Virginia. That girl had a box of Christmas candy
which she had caught up from the table as she passed and this she
gave the dark eyed little boy whose white teeth gleamed as he smiled
his pleasure.
Then thanking Virginia in his own musical language, his pony
galloped away. Virginia glanced at the folded paper. “Why, this
isn’t Malcolm’s handwriting after all,” she exclaimed in dismay. “Oh
Megsy, I do hope that nothing has happened to my darling brother.”
They went indoors, but Virginia’s anxiety was quickly changed to
mirth, and her merry laughter rang out.
“Virg, what is it that amuses you?” Megsy asked, truly puzzled. “I
thought a moment ago that you were troubled.”
Without answering, Virginia led her friend toward a big desk in a
sunny corner and sat down in the swinging chair that had been her
father’s. “Sit near me,” she then said. “I have a task ahead of me.”
Then, seeing that Margaret looked even more mystified than before,
she added, by way of explanation: “Years ago, Buddie and I made up a
code. We didn’t have any other children to play with and so we read
many books of thrilling adventure. In one of them we found the
inspiration for our code and we used to write letters to each other,
pretending to tell secrets of a very serious nature. Honestly,
Megsy, I have spent hours trying to decipher some message that
Malcolm had sent me, to find, of course, that it was all make
believe. We each had a key to the code, and evidently Malcolm still
has his, but I am not real sure where mine is, but I think it is
somewhere in this old desk. Of course I know that the message he has
sent today is of a serious nature, and I simply must find the key to
the code and decipher it as soon as possible.”
While Virginia talked she opened one drawer in the old desk after
another, removed papers yellowing with age and felt in the far
corners, but the key to the code was not found.
“What do you suppose can be in that message?” Margaret queried.
“I believe it has something to do with his mining enterprise,” Virg
said, then continued: “The facts, so far, are that this Irish
prospector, Pat Mahoy, found what he believed to be paying ore on
Second peak and said that if brother and I would grubstake him, we
three would be partners. Malcolm decided to return with Mr. Mahoy
and look at the property, and as you know, he has been gone three
days. Now I conclude that my brother believes the mine to be a great
find and wishes to tell me so in a way that no one else can read.
Perhaps he wants me to do something that may be very important and
that must be kept a secret, hence he has used the code of our
childhood.” Then, rising, she left the desk as she said: “I have
searched there thoroughly but not a sign of the key did I find.”
“Isn’t there a secret drawer to the old desk?” Margaret asked,
hopefully. If there was one thing more than another that Margaret
liked, it was mystery, and the idea of a secret drawer or a panel
that slid back, had always delighted her. Virginia laughingly shook
her head. “Nary a secret drawer,” she declared.
Just then the chimes of the old clock tolled the hour of 10.
“Dear me; here it is mid-morning and we are no nearer deciphering
this message than we were when it arrived,” Virginia declared,
dolefully.
“Hark! Somebody is coming,” Margaret exclaimed. “Who do you suppose
it can be?”
She opened the door as she spoke. The cow-boy Slim stood on the
porch, sombrero in hand. “Miss Virginia,” he said in his shy manner,
“did Malcolm leave word what he wanted me to do when I returned from
the Junction?”
“No he didn’t, Slim,” Virginia said. “I think you would better use
your own judgment. You know my brother always wishes you to do that
when he is not at home. Just now he is away, and I do not know when
he will return. Is everything all right here at the ranch?”
“Yes, Miss Virginia, and if it’s what you think Malcolm would be
wishin’ me to do I’ll join Rusty up the north way, and help him
drive in the yearlings. Dick Dartly told me as there’d be a stampede
up that way and that Rusty is havin’ a hard time roundin’ up the
scattered yearlings. He’d be glad of my help if you think as it
would be right for me to go.”
“I’m sure it’s all right, Slim. Goodbye and good luck.” The two
girls waved to the departing cow-boy and then turned back into the
big, cheerful living-room as the clock chimed the quarter hour.
“Oh, dear, how time flies!” Virginia declared. Then she pressed both
hands upon her forehead saying that she was going to think and think
until she could recall where she had put the key to the code.
“And while you are thinking, I will make my bed.” Margaret said as
she skipped to the adjoining room, into which the sun was flooding.
She began to hum a little tune, but, in the middle of it she stopped
suddenly, for she had heard a squeal of delight.
“What is it?” she asked peering out of the door.
“Inspiration!” Virginia laughingly responded. “Come along with me. I
do believe I recall where I put the key to the code when I supposed
Buddie and I were through with it forever. Are you a climber?”
“I don’t know. What will I have to climb?” asked the mystified
Margaret. “I did climb a tree once and a ladder also. Which do you
wish me to ascend now?”
Virginia was leading the way to the kitchen which was deserted at
that hour. There she opened a door into a long, dark storeroom at
one end of which was a straight up and down ladder made by the
nailing of boards across uncovered uprights. Margaret looked up and
saw a trap door in the ceiling. “Does that lead to your attic?” she
inquired. Virginia was half way up the ladder, and, looking over her
shoulder, she replied merrily. “Follow me and you shall see.”