SUSPENSE
Tom and his party in the other motor-boat had not appeared, nor had the
_Gem_ come back from the town of Chippewa Bay with Mr. Hammond. Why
should not Ruth and Chessleigh spy about among the islands for a time?
It was not now moonlight; and there was some haze which gave a
smouldering effect to the stars peering through it. But these soft, hazy
nights had their own charm and Ruth had come to love them.
Especially on the water. Amid the tamarack-clothed islets the motor-boats
crept in and out in a delightful way. To lie on the cushions in the
cockpit of the _Lauriette_ and bask in the pearly starlight was an
experience the girl from Cheslow was not likely to forget.
To-night, when the _Lauriette_ got away from the moving picture camp,
there were no other boats in sight. Chess dimmed his lights and the craft
crept through the narrow passages between the islands, heading up stream.
"My idea," he said, "is to land at the back of that island--"
"The Kingdom of Pipes?" interrupted Ruth in surprise.
"Yes. Where you say you landed before--twice."
"Oh!"
"That is, if we see nothing or nobody about."
"I don't think we'd better take any great risk--only two of us," observed
Ruth, with her usual caution.
"Of course, we won't walk right into danger."
"I should hope not! And just what are we going for, anyway?" and she
suddenly laughed.
"Why, I'm curious about those fellows," said the young man. "And I
thought you were."
"I'm curious about the King of the Pipes. Charley-Horse Pond, Willie
calls him."
"Queer old boy, I guess," admitted Chess. "But I want to know more about
those chaps who unloaded the boxes."
"What could have been in the boxes? Surely there is no camping party on
that island. At least, no pleasure party."
"I fancy not. If you ask me about the boxes, I am puzzled. Yet, I've a
glimmer of an idea--Are you sure that was a woman with them to-day in
their boat?"
"Wonota called her the yellow lady. And Wonota has good eyes."
"With a yellow face, yes? And we saw a Chinaman in the boat that other
time on the river," said Chess quickly.
"Surely she wasn't a Chinese woman? Yet, she might have been."
"Chinese women aren't usually smuggled over the border, I guess,"
muttered the young fellow. "But Chinese men are."
"Perhaps we should have reported it to the authorities," Ruth suggested.
"Not until we are sure there is really something wrong. I don't want to
be laughed at, you know."
But Ruth just then had considered another phase of the matter.
"Oh!" she cried. "There's Bilby! He was in it!"
"In what?"
"In that boat when we first saw it. When we saw the Chinaman, you know,
out on the Canadian side of the river. If there is anything wrong about
these men--and the King of the Pipes--Bilby is mixed up with them."
"I guess you are right, Ruth. Maybe that fellow is into more queer games
than just trying to grab your Osage princess."
"But more than that," said Ruth much worried now, "he may have so many
friends on the Canadian side that he can trace Wonota and her father over
there on Grenadier Island."
"Better warn Mr. Hammond when he comes back from town," suggested her
friend. "That Bilby seems to be universally troublesome. I'll say he is!"
They kept quiet after that, for the outline of the rocky island, with the
blasted beech visible at its summit, came into view. Nothing stirred upon
the island, nor was there any other boat in sight.
"Had we better venture ashore?" breathed Ruth, again in doubt.
"Come on. Let's try it. I've got an electric torch in my pocket. We can
find our way all over the island with that."
It was true that the girl of the Red Mill felt some trepidation, but she
had confidence in her companion's muscle and courage if not in his
caution. Besides, she was very curious about the queer old man and the
doings on his island.
Chess shut off the engine of the _Lauriette_ some distance from the
island; but first he had gone above the rocky landing, so that the
sluggish current between the islands drifted the motor-boat back upon
that strand.
He went forward and, with a line in his hand, leaped ashore the moment he
could do so, and drew the _Lauriette_ in to the rock. Then he passed the
line around the very sapling to which Ruth had once fastened the canoe.
"Come on!" he whispered, offering his hand to the girl.
She leaped ashore. They were both wearing canvas, rubber-soled, low shoes
which made no noise on the stones. Chess drew forth the electric torch
and tried it, turning the spot of light on the ground at their feet. It
worked perfectly.
In his right-hand jacket pocket he carried an entirely different article,
but he did not mention that fact to Ruth. She would not have gone with
him had she known of the presence of the pistol. The possession of
firearms would have, to her mind, at once taken the matter out of the
realm of mere adventure into that of peril, and Ruth was not seeking such
an experience.
She only half believed in the smugglers. She had seen some men in a boat
at the island, but she doubted if it meant anything more than a fishing
party. Those boxes taken ashore meant nothing much to her, if they did
suggest some particularly interesting situation to Chess.
In fact, Copley had not fully taken Ruth into his confidence. He had
reason to suspect that whoever might be on this island were law-breakers,
and he really had no right to bring Ruth here. Tom Cameron would not have
done it.
Copley was serious, however, in his intention of finding out if possible
who was on the island; and when they had passed up the rough path to the
round table-stone, Ruth had got over her little shivery feeling and was
as eager as Chess himself.
They passed carefully through the fringe of brush and reached the open
space where the blasted beech tree stood. The faint starlight illumined
the space, so that Chess did not need to use the torch in his left hand.
There was no tent set up here nor any other mark of human habitation.
Ruth knew that there was scarcely any other place on the island where a
camp could be established. Had the people they had seen landing from the
speedy launch gone away for good and taken their camp equipment with
them?
Suddenly Copley seized her wrist. His touch was cold and betrayed the
fact that he was nervous himself.
"Listen!" he whispered, his lips close to Ruth's ear.
Helen would have immediately been "in a fidget," and said so. But Ruth
could restrain herself pretty well. She nodded so that Copley saw she
heard him and was listening. They waited several moments.
"There!" breathed the young fellow again.
"What is it?" Ruth ventured.
"Somebody talking. Listen!"
There was a human voice near by. It sounded close to them, and yet its
direction Ruth could not decide upon. There was a hollow, reverberating
quality to the sounds that baffled determination as to their origin. But
it was a human voice without doubt.
Ruth could not, however, understand a word that was spoken. The tones
were first high, then low, never guttural, and possessed a certain
sibilant quality. Whether the words spoken were English or not, was
likewise a mystery.
Ruth and Chessleigh stood first in one place, then in another, in that
circle about the big beech tree. The young man had gone all around the
tattered trunk and found no opening. If it was hollow, there was no way
of getting into it near the ground, nor was there any ladder by which one
might scale the huge trunk to the top.
"That's no hide-away," mouthed Chess, his lips close at Ruth's ear again.
"And it seems to me the sound doesn't come from overhead."
"More as though it came up from the ground," returned Ruth, in the same
low voice. "Do you suppose we are standing on the roof of a cavern, Chess
Copley?"
"It might be," agreed the young fellow. "But if it is a cavern, where
under the sun is the mouth of it? How do they get in or out? It beats my
time!"
Ruth quickly acknowledged that the mystery was beyond her comprehension.
The sing-song sounds--for such they seemed to be--went on and on,
meaningless for the two listeners, who could not distinguish a single
word.
"Think that's your King of the Pipes?" asked Chessleigh finally.
"I don't know. If it is, there must be something more the matter with him
than Willie says there is. He sounds crazy--that is the way it sounds to
me."