[Illustration: To the girls' surprise they heard an exclamation.]
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THE SECRET OF STEEPLE ROCKS
By HARRIET PYNE GROVE
[Illustration]
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING
COMPANY
Akron, Ohio :: New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright MCMXXVIII
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
The Secret of Steeple Rocks
_Made in the United States of America_
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THE SECRET OF STEEPLE ROCKS
CHAPTER I
STEEPLE ROCKS
"Are you satisfied, Beth?"
Elizabeth Secrest turned with a smile to the two girls who had come up
behind her, their footfalls silent in the sand. "The world is mine," she
answered, with a comprehensive sweep of her arm and hand toward the
foaming surf which was almost at their feet. "Doesn't it _fill_ you,
some way?"
"Yes, Beth; I'm not myself at all. Here,--take these and look at those
towering rocks with them." Sarita Moore handed her fine glasses, all
shining and new, to the older girl, who directed them toward a distant
pile of rocks. There two rose high, irregularly decreasing in
circumference, and at this distance apparently pointed at their tops.
Below them massed the other rocks of the dark headland.
Elizabeth looked long and steadily. "Steeple Rocks!" she murmured. "I
wish that I owned them! But I would give them a better name. I'd call
them Cathedral Rocks. Doesn't the whole mass make you think of the
cathedrals,--the cathedrals that you and I are going to see some day,
Leslie?"
The third girl of the group now took the glasses which her sister
offered. "Sometimes, Beth, I can't follow the lines of your imagination;
but it doesn't take much this time to make a cathedral out of that.
_Are_ you happy, Beth?" There was a tone of anxiety in the question.
"Yes, child. Who could help being happy here? Look at that ocean,
stretching out and away--into eternity, I think,--and the clouds--and
the pounding of the surf. Think, girls! It's going to put us to sleep
to-night!"
"Unless it keeps us awake," suggested Leslie, "but I'm all lifted out of
myself, too, Beth. Imagine being here all summer! Look at Dal, Sarita."
Leslie pointed toward a masculine figure standing on the beach not far
in advance of them. "It's 'what are the wild waves saying?' to Dal all
right!"
Dalton Secrest, who had preceded his two sisters and their friend in
their visit to the beach and the tossing waves, stood facing the sea,
his hands in his pockets, his tall young body straight before the strong
breeze. He heard the girls' voices above the noise of the surf, as they
came more closely behind him, and turned with a smile as his sister had
done.
[Illustration: Map of Steeple Rocks]
"What great thoughts are you thinking Dal?" Sarita queried.
"Sorry that I can't claim any just this minute, Sarita. I was thinking
about what fish there are in the sea for me. When I'm not building the
shack I'm going to fish, girls, and I was wondering if the bay wouldn't
be the best place for that."
"Of course it would, Dal," Leslie replied, "but you can easily find out
where the fishermen get their fish. I thought at first that I should
never want to eat. It is almost enough to look. But now,--'I dunno,' as
the song goes!"
"We'd better be getting back to the tents," said Dalton. "Beth looks as
if she had not had enough, but I'll have to gather some wood for a fire
and by the time we have our supper it will be dark. We can watch the
sunset just as well from above." With this, Dalton Secrest linked arms
with the girls, and with one on each side of him ran as rapidly as sand
would permit to where Elizabeth had found a seat upon a rock back of the
sands.
"Come on, Beth. Time for eats. Les and Sairey Gamp are going to do the
cooking while you sit out on the point with your little pencil to
sketch."
"Don't you call me 'Sairey Gamp,' Dal Secrest," laughed Sarita.
"Never you mind, Sairey, you can get it back on me. If I have any time
left from building, fishing and bringing home the bacon, I shall be the
wild pirate of Pirates' Cove!"
"Listen to Dal!" cried Leslie. "You'd think that he had to support the
family! But I will admit, Dal, that if 'bacon' is fish, it will
certainly help out expenses."
Dalton fell back with his older sister, Beth, while the two others went
on, all directing their way to a spot some distance ahead, where the
climb to the upper level was not difficult. All four were exhilarated by
the new scenes, the beauty and almost mystery of the sea, the beach, the
rocks and crags, and the invitation of the singing pines where their
tents were pitched.
As anyone might surmise, their arrival was recent. Sensibly they had
pitched their tents first, while Dalton could have the assistance of the
man who drove them there; but after the necessary things were
accomplished they hastened to get as close to the sea as possible, for
none of them had ever seen it before.
It was one of the interesting spots on the much indented coast of Maine.
There were an obscure little fishing village, a bay, into which a few
small streams emptied, and a stretch of real coast, washed by the ocean
itself. It was this beach which the newcomers had just visited with such
pleasure, at a place varying in its outlines, from curving sands washed
by a restless sea to high rocks and half-submerged boulders, where the
water boiled and tossed.
As the summer visitors climbed the ascent, they noticed that in the
village at their left most of the fishers' cottages lay within easy
reach of the beach proper, from which the launching of boats was easy.
There was a dock, stout, but small. It was quite evident that no large
vessels came in.
The bay lay in the direction of Steeple Rocks, but the climb to reach it
would have been impossible from the beach. This was blocked by the high
cliff whose rocks reached out into the waves and curved around into one
side of the bay's enclosure, though gradually lowering in height. Much
farther away, around the curving, rocky, inland shore of the bay, and
across its quiet waters from this cliff, loomed the other more bulging
headland which reminded Beth of a cathedral in some of its outlines. But
Beth was an artist, and an artist had not named Steeple Rocks.
Dalton helped Elizabeth while the other girls scrambled up to the path
by themselves. "I do hate to play the invalid, Dal," breathlessly said
Beth, clutching her brother's arm. "What _is_ the matter with me,
anyhow?"
"Nothing in the world, Doc said, but being just played out. What do you
expect? You can't do a million things and teach school, for fun, of
course, on the side, and feel as frisky as a rabbit at the end of the
year. Just wait, old girl. We had to let you help us get ready to come,
but about two weeks of doing nothing and sleeping in this air,--well,
you will probably be able to help _me_ up the rocks!"
Leslie, meanwhile, was explaining to her chum Sarita how their property
included the smaller headland and its rocks. "There is right of way, of
course, but this is ours."
The girls were standing by this time high on the rocks, from which they
could look down and back, along the beach where they had been. At this
place the point ran out to its curving, jutting, broken but solid
rampart which kept the sea from the bay. Below them a few boats dotted
the surface of the bay. Sarita through her glass was watching a vessel
which was passing far out on the ocean.
"How did it happen, Leslie, that you never came here?" Sarita asked.
"You see, Father had just bought it the summer before he died. He had
been up in Canada and then down on the coast of Maine. He came home to
tell us of the place he had bought at a great bargain, where we had an
ocean view, a bay to fish in, and a tiny lake of our own. Then came all
our troubles and we had almost forgotten about it, except to count it
among our assets, pay tax on it and wish that we could raise some money
on it. But nobody wanted a place that had no good roads for an
automobile and was not right on the railroad, though, for that matter, I
don't think it's so terribly far."
"Yes, it is, Les, for anybody that wants to be in touch with
civilization, but who wants to be for the summer?"
"Well, as we told you when Beth said I could ask you to come along, it
is just what we want to camp in, and there are people near enough for
safety, besides the 'Emporium' of modern trade in the village, if that
is what one can call this scattered lot of cottages."
"It is more picturesque, Beth says, just as it is, and most of the
summer cottages are on the other side of the village, or beyond the
Steeple Rocks, in the other direction, so we'll not be bothered with
anybody unless we want to be. I like folks, myself, but when you camp
you want to camp, and Beth is so tired of kiddies that she says she
doesn't want to see anybody under fifteen for the whole three months!"
Sarita laughed at this. "She seemed jolly enough on the way."
"Oh, Beth is jolly and perfectly happy to come; but we did not have any
idea how worn out she was, simply doing too much and so afraid _we'd_
have too much to do to get our lessons. Why, when Dal and I waked up to
the fact that Elizabeth was almost a _goner_, we were scared to pieces.
She couldn't get up one morning after Commencement was over,--but you
remember about that and how we sent for the doctor in a hurry. My, what
a relief when he said that it was just overdoing and that she was to
stay in bed and sleep, and eat anything she wanted to!"
"She told me how you wanted to feed her every half hour."
"Yes," laughed Leslie, "and I tried all the good recipes in the cook
book, almost."
But the girls walked out on the point a little distance, then returned,
while Leslie, from her memory of her father's plan, pointed out the
place behind a windbreak of rocks where Elizabeth thought he intended to
build the "Eyrie." Strolling back from the Point, across an open space
partly grown with straggling weeds and grass, the girls entered the pine
woods, which was the thing of beauty upon the Secrest land. There Beth
was seated upon a box, watching Dalton build a fire.
"Ever and anon that lad shakes a finger at me, girls, to keep me from
doing anything," Beth said, in explanation of her idleness.
"Good for Dal," said Leslie. "Sarita and I are the chief cooks and
bottle-washers around here. Just sit there, Beth, and tell us what to
do, if we can't think of it ourselves. I see that you brought water,
Dal. Shall we boil it before drinking?"
"No; this is from the prettiest spring you ever saw. I opened some boxes
and set up the tables, so you can go ahead. I'm going to get a supply of
wood handy. We'll fix up our portable stove to-morrow, but I want to
have it in good shape, and then I thought that you girls would like a
camp fire to-night."
"Oh, we do!" cried Leslie and Sarita almost with one voice. "We'll have
hot wieners and open a can of beans. They'll heat in a minute. Dal, that
is a fine arrangement, fixing those stones for us to rest our pan on."
It was Leslie who finished these remarks, as she and Sarita busied
themselves with the work of supper and Dalton went back into the woods
again for more wood. They heard the sound of his hatchet as they put a
cloth on the little folding table and set it in a convenient place
outside of the tent. "The table will make a good buffet, but I want to
take my plate and sit on the pine needles."
"You will be obliged to, for want of chairs at present," said Elizabeth,
jumping up and insisting on being allowed to help. What a new atmosphere
it was! Here they were, off in the "wilds" and their own wilds at that,
with all sorts of happy experiences before them.
Dalton, whistling a popular song went about hither and yon, gathering a
supply of wood, lopping off undesirable portions of old limbs here and
there. Looking up at a sound, he was surprised to see a rough-looking
man approaching him. He was ill-featured, dark, grim, and of stalwart
build. Dalton, rather glad of his hatchet, stood his ground, waiting to
be addressed.
"What are you folks doing here?" the man demanded.
"This is our land, sir," replied Dalton, "and we have just come to camp
here for the summer." He felt like adding, "any objections?" but thought
that he would not be the one to start any trouble by impertinence. He
did not like the man's tone, however.
"How do we know that you own this land? I'd not heard of its being
sold."
"It can easily be proved. Our name is Secrest. My father bought this
several years ago."
"Is your father here?"
"Well, excuse me, sir, would you prefer to ask your questions of my
father? Are you the mayor of the village?"
"No; but any of us have a right to know what strangers are going to do."
"Perhaps you have, sir," said Dalton, in a more friendly way, "but it's
a free country, you know, and we own this piece of ground. I'm expecting
to camp here all summer, and to build a more permanent home, or start
one, for our summers here."
The man nodded. "Well, if that is so, and if you mind your own business,
you may like it. But it ain't healthy around here for snoopers, nor
folks that are too cur'ous. That's all." The man stalked away, tying
more tightly a red handkerchief around his neck, and hitching up the
collar of his rough coat. The ocean breeze was growing a little chilly.
But a thought occurred to Dalton and he spoke again to the man. "Wait a
moment, please. How about these woods and the places around here,--are
they safe for my sisters and our friend?"
"Yes, safe enough. It's too far from the railroad for tramps and thieves
and there ain't no good roads for the fellers with cars. The folks over
at Steeple Rocks growl about that."
"We have neighbors over in that direction, then?"
"So you didn't _know_ that. H'm. You don't know much about this place,
if your father did buy it."
"No. None of us were ever here before."
"And your father's dead."
Dalton looked up surprised at that, for he had purposely avoided
answering that question about his father. The man grinned a little. "I
reckon a kid like you wouldn't be talkin' about buildin' a cabin himself
if he had a father. Have you got a boat?"
"No, but we're going to have one."
"Remember what I said, then, about minding your own affairs."
Having no good reply to this, which Dalton resented, he curbed his
rising anger at this rude acquaintance and watched him stride in the
direction of the road, which wound through the woods some distance away.
"Well, your room is far better than your company," thought Dalton, as he
picked up his sticks, making a load of them. He wondered whether this
were one of the fishermen or not. He did not have the same speech as
that of the other New Englanders whom they had recently met. The man who
had brought their goods from the station had been most friendly,
answering their questions and volunteering all kinds of interesting
information about the country. It was odd that he had not mentioned the
people at Steeple Rocks, but it had so happened.
With such thoughts, Dalton went through the woods, whose wonderful pines
had so delighted them, and finally joined the girls, arranging his
firewood at a convenient distance. Leslie found little things for Dalton
to do and supper was hurried up. The table was used for buttering bread
and fixing sandwiches; then each with a loaded plate sought a place
around the fire, which Dalton heaped with firewood till it blazed as
hotly as was safe.
There was some scrambling around when the wind veered and blew the smoke
in the wrong direction, but the camp was more or less protected from the
direct breeze. Happy and hungry, the campers disposed of a good meal in
the midst of considerable fun and joking. Long acquaintance had made
Sarita like a member of the family. She and Leslie recounted amusing
incidents of their school year just ended, or consulted Dalton about
their plans for the camp and the Eyrie. Elizabeth woke to something like
her old fire and announced that she intended to go back to "sweet
sixteen" and play with the rest of them.
"Oh, Beth, bob your hair, then!" urged Leslie, running her fingers
through her own curly brown mop.
"Not much she doesn't!" Dalton objected. "I can't imagine Beth without
her piles of pretty hair. Who was that beau, Beth, that wrote about your
'waves of burnished gold'?"
Beth laughed. "I was very mad, then, when you infants discovered that
poem."
"Beth's hair is just a little too dark to be called 'golden,'"
reflectively said Sarita. "You might braid it and wear it over your
shoulders, Indian fashion."
"It would be in my way, my dear."
"Bob it, Beth!" again said Leslie. "Dalton is just like the rest of the
men about a girl's hair. Think how fine it will be not to have so much
to dry when you go in swimming."
"Don't you weaken, Beth," spoke Dalton, eating his last sandwich. "Think
of the 'artistic Miss Secrest' without her 'wonderful hair.'"
"Come now, folks, it's my hair. I'm not doing anything at all about it,
and what a waste of time and opportunity to discuss such a subject here!
Come on, girls, we must fix up the beds. Dal, please help us with the
cots, and did you think what a fine dresser that big box will make,
girls? It has a division in it, you remember. We'll set it on end, put a
cover on it over some paper, tack a curtain across, and there will be
our dressing table, with a big shelf behind the curtain. I'm wasted in
the schoolroom, Sarita. I ought to be an interior decorator. To-morrow
some of those pretty spruce limbs will make a fine background for our
mirror!"
"Beth! Did you honestly _buy_ that mirror in the store by the station?
Dal, it's the funniest thing you ever saw and we look crooked in it.
Beth must have liked it because it makes her look fat!"
Springing up, the party of four piled their plates and cups on the
table, where Sarita busied herself in repacking the food in its
containers and the others went into the larger tent. There trunks and
boxes had been left in confusion.
In a short time Dalton had the three cots up and took another to his own
tent, which stood opposite the larger one. Leslie had suggested the
arrangement, insisting that they must live on an "Avenue." Elizabeth and
Leslie were now drawing both woolen and cotton blankets from a big trunk
of supplies, together with four warm bathrobes. Sarita came in just in
time to seize upon hers with an exclamation of welcome. "We'll probably
want to sleep in 'em," she said, with an exaggerated shiver, putting on
the garment over her sweater while Leslie laughed at her.
Trunks were pulled around into place, boxes piled out of the way,
flashlights and the convenient bags or cases, with which they had
traveled, found and placed by their owners' cots. On the rude dresser,
to be made more attractive in the future, a candlestick, candle and a
box of matches stood ready if needed, "And if anybody lights the candle,
let him beware of burning up the place!" warned Beth.
"Her, not 'him,' Beth," corrected Leslie. "The only 'him' has a tent of
his own. I'm going to see, too, that Dal has enough blankets on his bed
and everything. No, keep out, Beth. Don't worry; I'll think of just
exactly what we have that he must have, too. Say, what did we do with
those towels? Thanks. Dal is grand to do things for us, but when it
comes to fixing up himself,--" Leslie ran across the boulevard, which
Sarita now called the space between the tents, and the girls smiled as
they heard her arguing with Dalton about something.
"Listen, Dal! It gets _cold_ up here. I've known girls that camped in
Maine. I know that you're hot-blooded and all that. I'll just tuck these
blankets in at the foot, and I know that you'll want to draw them up by
morning."
Some bass murmur came from her brother and then the girls heard Leslie's
more carrying voice. "No, I'll brace them back on this box and _then_
they won't be too heavy on your feet. Well, have it your own way, then,
but if you _freeze_, I'll not be responsible!"
Leslie was grinning herself, when she came into the girls' tent and saw
Sarita shaking with laughter, as she sat on the edge of her cot
undressing. "We couldn't help hear, Les!" she said. "The boulevard
should be wider. What was it beside the blanket discussion?"
"The last thing he said to me was 'Can't you let a guy go to bed?'--but
he was laughing and lifted the flap of the tent for me with a most
ridiculous bow. Dal's the funniest thing!"
"All the same I'd be scared to death, going to bed away off here, if it
wasn't for Dal across there."
"I imagine that I would be, too, though Beth and I have gotten used to
taking care of ourselves. Now you in bed first, Beth. You must get out
of the way of 'going over the house' to see if everything is all right.
I _will_ boss _somebody_!"
"You can boss _me_ all you please, Leslie. You may even tuck me into
bed," said Beth, looking so sweet with her long, light braids, that
Leslie walked right over, turned back the blankets on Beth's cot, almost
lifted the slight figure into place, tucked her in snugly and kissed her
soundly.
The first day in camp was over. Dalton had purposely said nothing about
the man of the woods. He would mention it to Leslie and Sarita in the
morning, but on the whole he expected no trouble. The fishermen reached
the bay, as a rule, from the ocean itself, rather than from the high
cliffs. There was little to bring anyone in that direction, except
possibly someone of their neighbors from Steeple Rocks. His question to
the man had been more to test his purposes, than for information, and
Dalton was sorry that he had not mentioned the target practice which he
had induced the girls to take up more as a safe means of defence than as
a sport, though he had not told them that.
But Dalton Secrest was of no timid sort. This was a new adventure and
promised much. What it was to include he did not yet know. There were to
be some moments not exactly "healthy," as the man had warned, though
Dalton himself was not responsible for unraveling the mystery of Steeple
Rocks.