The Stranger
The water was too cold for a long swim, perhaps because of the violent
storm of the night before, and the girls did not stay in long. Sim, who
loved swimming above all other sports, had to come out reluctantly, as
she, too, felt cold. They dried themselves and raced back to the house to
dress.
It was late afternoon when they were finally dressed and sitting once
more on the porch of “Buckingham Palace.”
“It’s lovely here, Terry,” Arden remarked looking dreamily at the ocean.
“I hope you won’t get tired of it. As you know by now, there’s really
nothing to do. Swimming, rowing, walking, and fishing if you care for it.
But no country clubs. One movie that’s better left alone, and a tiny
village,” Terry explained at length.
“Oh, but you’re forgetting our Russian friend and the wild girl of the
swamps.”
Sim spoke up. “Not to mention the hard-hearted father and the ferocious
wolfhound _and_ the swimming. Don’t you worry, we won’t be bored. What I
like best is the complete absence of mystery.” This was so pointed, the
remark made a good joke.
“How about your theory that Dimitri is a spy and that Melissa is a
kidnaped heiress?” Arden asked Sim, who was lazily swaying on the porch
swing.
“Well, I do think he’s queer, and I may be right after all. It’s not
natural for a man as young as he is to want to be alone unless he’s
hiding something from somebody,” Sim insisted.
“Perhaps he is. But I find Melissa more interesting. Seemed to me that
man she called ‘Pa’ had hypnotized her. And how mean of him not to let
her keep the bracelet,” Terry remarked. “Just plain mean!”
As if that brought up different theories in each mind, their conversation
dragged. The swim and the row in the morning left them feeling pleasantly
weary and completely satisfied. Healthy fatigue was the real answer.
Sim moved back and forth in the rustic swing, while Terry and Arden gazed
dreamily out to sea, where the dying sun turned white clouds to pink and
painted the water a deep blue in the miracle of sunset.
They never even realized that a car was coming rapidly down the road
behind the house, raising billows of sandy dust, until it stopped with
screeching brakes at the back gate of Terry’s house.
“Who’s that?” Sim asked, as Sim would.
“I haven’t the least idea, little one,” Terry answered. “Unless it’s some
more spies or kidnapers.”
“Let’s go see,” Arden suggested. “May we?”
But they were saved the trouble, for a woman was striding up the
sand-edged path to the porch. She was dressed in black satin with a huge
silver fox scarf, and glittering earrings showed beneath a small satin
turban. She had dark eyes, and her lips were a scarlet gash. The girls
waited apprehensively.
“I beg your par-r-don,” the woman began. “Have you a houseboat around
here? He calls it—” she fumbled in a handbag and taking out a paper
looked at it closely—“he calls it _Merry Jane_. Can you tell me how to
reach it?”
“There is a houseboat down the bay, if that’s the one you mean,” Terry
answered. “It is, I imagine, the only one around here.”
“No other houseboats?” the caller asked, showing white even teeth, pretty
in spite of the carmined lips.
“No, only this one,” Terry told her. “But I didn’t know it had a name.”
“Then that must be it, my dear. Can you tell me how to reach it?”
“You’ll have to go back through the village, then along a swampy road to
the edge of the bay. The road is rather bad because of the rain last
night.”
“Through the village? Is there no other way? I did not understand one had
to go through the village,” the woman remarked vaguely.
“Unless you go by boat. I don’t know of any other way of getting there,”
Terry answered.
The woman seemed to be considering. She tapped her hand impatiently on
the letter she had taken from her purse, and looked around her as though
trying to get her bearings and to make some decision.
“But how can I get a boat? It is very important that I get over there. I
don’t suppose—I would be glad to pay you—if—— Could you take me over?
Have you a boat?” the dark woman asked abruptly.
“Yes,” answered Terry. “I could take you over, and of course I’d be glad
to do it.”
“Can we go at once?” the woman asked nervously.
“I guess so,” Terry replied. “Tell Mother I’ll be right back, will you,
Arden? I won’t be long.”
“Of course, Terry. But don’t you want——” Arden asked in a meaning,
unfinished way.
For answer Terry turned aside from their strange caller and winked
understandingly at Arden and Sim. Arden did not press her point further,
but nodded her head and said no more. Both were thinking: “Now for
another adventure!”
Terry quickly went for the oars and, with the dark flashy woman
following, made for the rowboat. The passenger got in gracefully despite
her extremely high-heeled shoes and sat in the stern while Terry pushed
off.
“There it is, down there.” Terry pointed to the moored boat where Dimitri
lived.
“That?” her passenger asked incredulously. “That—that _thing_? Dimitri is
an odd one. Fancy him living there!” she sneered openly.
Terry maintained an embarrassed silence and rowed more vigorously. They
soon reached the side of the houseboat, and at the sound of the oars
Tania appeared on the narrow little deck, barking furiously.
“Dimitri! Dimitri!” the woman called. “Have you still got that beast? Tie
her up. I’m coming aboard.”
Dimitri, in answer to the call, opened the door and came outside. He
looked almost shocked as he saw Terry and her queer passenger, and for a
minute seemed awe-struck. Then he smiled at Terry, for it was impossible
to be heard above Tania’s wild barking. He shrugged his shoulders and
grasping Tania by the collar had literally to pull the huge dog away from
the edge of the boat.
Terry came closer and grasped the side of the houseboat that the woman
had spoken of as _Merry Jane_. She waited until Dimitri returned without
Tania. He leaned down and, holding the woman by the hand, assisted her to
climb aboard. Then, turning to Terry, smiling queerly, remarked:
“I don’t know whether to thank you, my friend, or——”
Terry’s eyes opened wide in astonishment.
“Dimitri,” the woman said between shut teeth. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, nothing. Come inside, Olga,” he replied, and nodded to Terry as
he held open the door for his apparently uninvited guest.
Terry knew at once she had no place in this strange little drama and
prepared to leave. From the houseboat came the sound of a feminine voice
raised in anger. But Terry could not understand the words beyond a
pleading “Dimitri.”
She rowed quickly away, back to safer if not saner surroundings.