I
They breathed deep of the tonic air of the North as they left the
sleeper. Huddleston was a forlorn village with one street that displayed
a single line of buildings against a background of saw mill and sawdust.
An unpainted structure bearing the inscription, "Grand Hotel;
Fishermen's Resort" presented a picture of complete desolation to the
travelers. The further arm of the bay was a strip of green in the
distance.
A fisherman posed in monumental majesty on a weatherbeaten pile of
lumber on the wharf was the only human being in sight on the water side
of the town. Just as the train pulled out he jerked up his pole,
flinging a perch high in air and catching it with a yell of delight.
Archie sighed with relief as the fisherman, now standing erect to unhook
the perch, turned toward them. It was the Governor, rakishly trigged out
in knickerbockers, with a cap smartly tilted over one ear and a scarf
snapping about his face in the lively wind.
"This looks like the end of the world," Congdon remarked dejectedly as
they walked toward the hotel. "I was a fool to come here and drag you
along."
"Don't worry about me," said Archie cheerfully. "We'll make a lark of
it. Your daughter's probably around here somewhere. We'll lay low and
see what turns up."
A man emerged from the hotel and crossed the street. Archie identified
him at once as Red Leary, to whom the Governor had delivered the stolen
money at Walker's farm. Leary made no sign of ever having seen Archie
before but picked up the luggage and led the way to the hotel. Archie's
admiration for the Governor soared to new heights at this manifestation
of the thoroughness of his preparations. Something had been said at
Walker's about Leary's retirement to northern Michigan, but at that time
Huddleston had not, he was sure, figured in the Governor's plans. Leary
walked round the counter and turned the register for their signatures.
"We jes' opened the house last week; she's been shet up quite a spell
but they're goin' t' open the mill ag'in. Jest now there ain't a soul in
town. Those houses and the store are boarded up tight. The railroad
agent stays here to run the water tank and sleeps in the station. Yep;
one other gent's registered." He placed his finger on "Reginald Heber
Saulsbury" in the Governor's flowing autograph. "All the way from New
York. I guess you'll find him all right. Blew in a couple of days ago;
says he come out here seekin' peace for his soul; them's his very
words."
"I judge there's a large surplus of soul stuff hereabouts," remarked
Congdon. "By the way, you haven't seen anything of a little girl about
here, have you--a child of eleven?"
"Not one of 'em but a whole passel," replied Leary lifting his head
after scrawling the numbers of the rooms against their names. "They's a
camp o' city girls across the bay. The day I got here a whole trainload
of 'em was hauled up from Chicago. Y' never saw such a lively bunch. And
yestiddy I was over that way lookin' up fishin' places to recommend to
our guests and saw the whole outfit swimmin'. A cute lot o' youngsters.
Mos' likely th' camp'll bring considerable business to the hotel; folks
comin' up to visit their kids."
"Well, I suppose that's the trick," said Congdon as Leary started
upstairs with their bags. "Edith has been put in a camp; her mother's
work, of course. Not a bad idea. All I want to be sure of is that the
child's in good hands. This is a beastly hole but I guess we can make
out for a day or two and I'll see if I can get a glimpse of Edith."
"Oh, we'll have to study the situation a little," Archie answered. "I
don't question your daughter's all right. We can make out here for a few
days anyhow."
The house had been renovated and their rooms were better than the grim
exterior promised.
"There'll be dinner at twelve," said Leary; "and if you want to try your
hand at trollin' for pickerel I'll fix you up later in the afternoon.
Mr. Saulsbury's been snatchin' up perch all mornin'. I'm tired out jest
from settin' on the porch and watchin' 'im."
Mrs. Leary, in spite of the fact disclosed by the Governor at Walker's,
that she had conducted a fence in Chicago and was prone to view precious
stones with a covetous eye, bore all the marks of respectability. She
entered the dining-room briskly, her motherly face heated from the
range, and placed a large platter of fried chicken on the table.
"Jes' help yerselves, gents. We've hardly got goin' yet but I got a
waitress on the way from Chicago and she'll spare me some steps."
"Ah!" ejaculated the Governor, pausing dramatically in the door and
eyeing the newly arrived guests as though their presence filled him with
astonishment. He bowed to them and remarked upon the fineness of the
day.
"I guess you folks'll get acquainted without bein' introduced," observed
Mrs. Leary. "It's always nicer in a summer resort when folks get
together sociable-like. You wanted radishes, Mr. Saulsbury, and you'll
notice I got 'em fer you."
"Madam," said the Governor in his most elaborate manner, "I knew you at
once for a woman of kind heart! I am not in the least surprised to find
myself in the presence of the noblest radishes I have ever seen."
In a moment more he had introduced himself to Archie and Congdon. He had
spent a jolly morning, he announced. Not in years had he enjoyed himself
so hugely. He delivered a lecture on fish only to celebrate in sonorous
periods the humble perch, scorned by epicures. It was the most
delectable of all the finny genus, superior even to the pompano.
Congdon, first irritated by the Governor's volubility, was soon laughing
at his whimsical speeches and by the time they moved to the narrow
veranda to smoke he was both puzzled and amused. Archie had been with
the Governor so constantly and was so familiar with his tangential
mental processes that he was glad of an opportunity to watch the effect
of his patter upon a man of his own world. It was clear that the
Governor was at pains to make himself agreeable to Congdon. He touched
upon public affairs, sensibly and convincingly, then turned handsprings
through the arts and sciences.
"Rather odd my being here," he rippled on; "and I need hardly say that
it's a pleasure to meet on this bleak shore two gentlemen of your
caliber. I told a friend of mine in Chicago that I was enormously fed up
with cities and the general human pressure and wanted to go to the most
God-forsaken spot in America. And he answered without a moment's
hesitation that Huddleston, Michigan, would satisfy my loftiest ideal of
godforsakenness. He had been here straightening up some land titles and
camped out for a week with a surveyor and ate out of a skillet. He's one
of these fussy fellows who sends an order of chops back to a club
kitchen a dozen times before he's satisfied,--you know the type. He's
probably laughing himself to death right now thinking how miserable I
am. But I refuse to be bored; never in my life have I been bored! Even
the sawdust pyramids and the stumps are magnificent in their desolation.
I feel it in my bones that something extraordinary is going to happen.
Something's got to happen or the lake will rise in one vast wave and
destroy Huddleston. I hope you gentlemen share my feeling that our
meeting has been ordered by the gods and that we shall stand or fall
together."
"If we've got to put the responsibility somewhere the gods may have it,"
laughed Congdon. "I'm a cripple, as you see, but as Comly and I haven't
a thing to do we'll give you a day or two to kick up some excitement. It
may entertain you to know that my coming here was due to an anonymous
telegram."
"Excellent! I'm delighted to know that there's some of the old romantic
spirit left in the world! It pleases me clear through to meet a man who
will act on an anonymous telegram and not ring up the police to ask
their stupid advice."
With a wave of the hand he left them, declaring it to be his purpose to
spend the afternoon in the woods.
"What do you make of that chap?" Congdon asked as the Governor strolled
away, swinging a stick, and disappeared at the end of the street.
"He talks like a nonsense book," Archie replied. "I hope he won't become
a nuisance!"
"A cheerful soul, I should call him. He's likely to make the place more
tolerable."
When Congdon pleaded weariness Archie put him to bed and then sauntered
away, following a dirt road that wound through the timber. In a little
while he came upon the Governor lying with his back against a tree,
reading Horace.
"You arrive most opportunely!" he said, without lifting his eyes from
the book. "I was pining for some one to read this ode to."
He not only read the ode but expounded it, dwelling upon felicities that
had eluded him before. With countless questions crying for answer Archie
was obliged to feign interest in the poem until the Governor thrust the
book into his pocket with a sigh and led the way to the beach.
"Well, you landed him here!" he remarked, seating himself on a log and
producing his pipe. "Or did he bring you? One would think you were old
chums to see you together. Not a bad fellow, I should say."
"He's really a good sort," said Archie; "but I'll tell you the whole
story."
The Governor listened placidly, interrupting only when Archie repeated
what Congdon had said of Isabel.
"A wonderful girl!" he ejaculated. "Makes it her business to tease the
world along. Laughing in her sleeve all the time. I must say it's odd
that both you and Congdon should be the victims of her wiles. My burdens
are heavier than I knew, for I've got to get you both out of your
scrapes."
"You don't seem to appreciate how horrible I felt when I found myself
liking that fellow. To say I was embarrassed doesn't express it! And I
nearly gave myself away when he told me he'd killed a man, your friend
Hoky, you know. I nearly confessed all I knew of that business just to
ease the poor chap's mind."
"But you didn't, Archie! You couldn't have done anything so foolish. My
tutoring hasn't been wholly wasted on you, after all. You managed the
trip admirably; I haven't a point to criticize; but now to get down to
brass tacks. What you learned of old Eliphalet Congdon's meddlesomeness
jibes exactly with what I know of his character. Let me show you
something, Archie."
He walked out upon the gravelly shore and pointed through the wide-flung
arms of the bay.
"Do you see a little blur of smoke out yonder in the open lake? That's
the _Arthur B. Grover_ proceeding under her own steam, with all the
dignity of a transatlantic liner. I took up my option and the bloomin'
thing is mine. It's got a crew of the smartest crooks in all America.
Men of genius in the field of felony, and a few of them talented in
other lines. One chap a navigator, able to sail a ship round the Horn,
and yet he prefers to play the shell game at rural fairs. And Perky's on
board with old Eliphalet Congdon! Yes, sir; the old boy is right there
as safe as King Arthur when the dark barge bore him away to the sound of
wailing. Perky sent me a wire from Mackinac this morning saying that all
is well on our frigate. They have orders to hang around out there till I
signal them to come in. But, my dear Archie--"
He refilled his pipe and when he had it going to his satisfaction waved
his arm toward the camp.
"There's a queer business going on over there. Ruth told me at Rochester
that when I brought Edith up here I'd better leave the train at
Calderville, the first station south of Huddleston, and drive to Heart
o' Dreams Camp through the woods. Well, the road over there was only a
trail and I had a hard job getting through, but made it all right. Ruth
and Isabel were delighted with our success. That's all easy. But those
girls are in trouble."
"Well, hurry on!" said Archie, sitting up straight.
"Oh, that cousin of Isabel's is not a myth at all as I rather thought he
might be; and that money may be buried over there somewhere, you know.
And the cousin's laying himself out to annoy the camp in every way
possible, even going the length of trying to starve 'em out. There's a
stack of supplies at the Huddleston station that they can't move."
"You forget," cried Archie excitedly, "that there are laws even in the
wilderness! If that fellow's looking for trouble all we've got to do is
to telephone for the sheriff and land him in jail. The jails up in this
neck of woods are probably highly uncomfortable."
"I grant all that," said the Governor sprawling at ease. "But the
notoriety of the thing would kill the camp. Once it got into the
newspapers every father and mother who has a child out yonder would go
right up in the air. It would make a great first page story--buried
treasure--a war for hidden gold centered about a girls' camp. That whole
yarn about the haughty southerner planting his money in safe territory
till he saw which way the cat jumped is fruity stuff for our special
correspondent on the spot. No, Archie; ladies of quality like our Ruth
and Isabel must be protected from vulgar publicity, and we don't want
any sheriffs or newspaper reporters nosing around. It's up to you and me
to smooth out their troubles without resorting to bothersome legal
apparatus. The camp has no telephone; the road round to that peninsula
is all but inaccessible. They have a launch they're in the habit of
using to carry stuff across from Huddleston, but Mr. Richard Carey
blocks the way! I got all this when I was delivering Edith over there at
the back door. And Carey is camped at the land entrance, with an army of
lumberjacks to help him maintain a blockade. On my way out I ran the
gantlet, and if you think Carey is only fooling about this buried
treasure business, gaze on this!"
He took off his cap and pointed to a hole through the baggy top.
"A bullet, Archie, fired from ambush with murderous intent."
"But she said her cousin was in love with her! It can't be possible
that he's resorting to violence to drive her off land that belongs to
her, with the idea that she'll meet him at the altar afterwards."
"There's no loving touch in that bullet hole! Heart o' Dreams Camp is in
danger as long as that lunatic runs loose. They can't communicate with
Huddleston or Calderville in their launch because Carey patrols the
shore. It's a siege, Archie, and they're going to be hard put for
provisions in another day or two."
"Then it's our duty to relieve the beleaguered garrison?"
"Nothing less than that! When I took Edith over to Heart o' Dreams,
Isabel and Ruth wouldn't let me stay long enough to plan anything. They
were pretty anxious, of course, with Carey trying to smoke them out; and
they were afraid Putney would try to take Edith away from them. But from
what you say it's only Eliphalet who's made the trouble and we don't
need to fear anything from Putney. If it comes to a showdown I rather
think he'll play with us. You're sure he doesn't suspect that Isabel's
the head of Heart o' Dreams?"
"He hasn't the ghost of an idea of it. I tell you his spirit's broken
anyhow. With Hoky's murder on his mind and the general muddle of his
family affairs he doesn't care much which way the wind blows."
"That man needs occupation and we may find some way of using him. He
looks as though he had red blood in him; a fighter if he was thoroughly
aroused. If he knew the trick I've played on his father I guess that
would tickle him considerably. The idea of old Eliphalet with his
millions cruising the lakes with a band of the most accomplished
outlaws in America is funny, Archie; real comedy I should call it. He's
a prisoner on the _Arthur B. Grover_, only he doesn't know it. I
mobilized that outfit thinking we might need some help up here and
incidentally to keep Eliphalet where I could put my hand on him; but the
whole thing's complicated, Archie. It's far more of a mess than I
expected."
He found a smooth patch of sand and with a stick drew a number of
diagrams, carefully effacing them after they had served his purpose.
"Humph! This is no time for weakening! Over there, Archie,"--he pointed
toward Heart o' Dreams--"are the two finest women in the world. We're
going to stand by them no matter whose head gets cracked."
He spoke lightly, but his brow clouded. It was evident that something of
unhappy augury had been, revealed in his last appeal to the heavens.
"I want to be alone for a while," he said brusquely, "I'll turn up at
supper time."