The Unwelcome Guest
Terry bent to the oars, pulling hard and taking long strokes with the
blades just missing the water. She could row with quite some skill when
she particularly wanted to, and now she could scarcely wait to get back
to tell Sim and Arden what had happened.
As she reached the little dock where they tied up their boat, she looked
around and saw Arden and Sim inspecting the flashy green roadster which
the woman “Olga” had left parked near their back door. Terry put her
finger to her lips and whistled shrilly. Arden and Sim at once came
running to meet her.
“What happened, Terry?—surely something?” Arden asked, climbing into the
boat. Sim followed, and all three settled down to talk on the quiet
water’s edge.
“Yes, lots!” Terry exclaimed. “He was furious when he saw her, and Tania
was wild.”
“Who was furious—what about?” Sim wanted to know.
“Dimitri, stupid,” Terry went on. “When he saw whom I had in the boat I
never saw a man look so mad.”
“What did he do?” Arden asked with great interest and hopeful expectancy.
“Oh, he was polite enough in a cold way,” Terry told them with a show of
relish. “He tied up Tania and said he didn’t know whether or not to thank
me. I heard him call her ‘Olga.’ When I left they were jabbering away as
though they were mad at each other. Talking Russian, I guess,” Terry said
rapidly. The sudden appearance of the spectacular woman had given them
more excitement than mere words might explain.
“Why do you suppose she didn’t want to go through the village?” Sim
inquired cannily.
“It looks to me as if she didn’t want to be seen,” Arden ventured.
“She seemed to know the artist pretty well,” Terry resumed. “She spoke as
if it was queer that he should live in the houseboat.”
“Let’s go back to the house, the mosquitoes are beginning to bite,” Sim
said, slapping her stockingless leg. “We can talk better there, anyway.
Our voices might carry over the water.”
They all agreed this was a good plan and scrambled out of the boat. Terry
tied it up and took the oars, and they went back to the porch.
It was almost dusk now, and the bay was hardly rippled by a land breeze
that carried the annoying little mosquitoes with it. The porch offered
the most comfortable place, screened in and commodiously furnished. Once
there, the girls got ready for a “good talk,” and presently Terry’s
mother joined them.
“I wouldn’t make too much out of this,” she warned. “You girls will
become gossips if you don’t be careful,” she laughed.
“But, Mother,” Terry insisted, “he was so mad, and Tania was quite wild
with rage. There must be something wrong about it.”
“Tania is a nervous dog, she barks at everyone,” Mrs. Landry remarked.
“She knows us now. I don’t think she’d bark at us ever again,” Terry
decided rather triumphantly.
As though to prove this assertion, at that very moment Tania came
bounding up the path. Her beautiful silky fur was coated with mud from
the marsh, and water was dripping from her as the dog pranced along. She
reached the screen door and gave a little “woof,” asking to come in.
Arden got up and opened the door. At once Tania, in high spirits, planted
her muddy feet on Arden’s shoulders and licked her face. Arden staggered
backward from the weight of the dog and stumbled over a chair. Tania
could not keep on her own feet, and the two went down with a mighty bump.
In the scramble Tania again playfully licked Arden’s face in the most
reassuring if not the most dignified way.
Terry and Sim were laughing so hard they could do nothing to help, and
Arden rolled over and buried her face in her hands. It was so sudden and
so funny.
“Tania!” called Mrs. Landry sharply. “Stop it! Come here at once!”
At the sound of her name, Tania looked up and walked with her usual
dignity to Terry’s mother, obediently resting her head in the woman’s
lap. Mrs. Landry rubbed the silky ears and gently scolded the dog, while
Arden scrambled to her feet and attempted to brush off the mud.
“See, Mother,” Terry said as she stopped laughing. “I told you she knew
us.”
At that Terry reached out a hand to pet the animal and then exclaimed in
surprise: “Look! Tania has a note under her collar!”
Quickly Terry pulled it out and began to read.
“It’s from Dimitri,” she announced as her chums waited to hear. “He wants
to know if we can go back and get his guest, as his boat has sprung a
leak and he can’t use it. Oh, Mother, may we go?”
“You’ll have to, I guess, since you took her over there,” said Mrs.
Landry somewhat reluctantly. “But not all of you. With Tania and your
queer lady passenger the boat would be too crowded. Just two of you
should go, I think.”
“Oh, Mother, can’t we all go?” Terry begged, reasoning that she, as the
best rower, must necessarily go, and hating to leave one of her chums at
home.
“No, I think it would be too crowded. I’d worry. Why don’t you toss a
coin and decide which one is to go with you?” Mrs. Landry suggested. She
always worked with the girls, never against them.
Terry dashed into the house and, coming out, cried: “Heads Arden
goes—tails Sim does.” She flipped the coin into the air and caught it on
the back of one hand, cleverly, covering it for a moment with her other
hand. Then she announced: “You win, Arden. It’s too bad, Sim dear. But
you can take care of Mother, and we’ll come back just as soon as we can
and tell you every little thing; won’t we, Arden?”
“Oh, surely!”
As was natural, perhaps, Terry and Arden were too excited to notice
whether or not Sim minded very much being thus left behind. The two
hurried down to the rowboat with Tania trotting after them. The dog
curled up on the broad stern seat, and Arden sat near her to restrain her
if necessary. But there was no need. Tania seemed very much accustomed to
boats and hardly stirred.
Terry rowed quickly in the direction of the _Merry Jane_. From her
position Arden could see Dimitri and his somewhat mysterious guest out on
the narrow, railed walk that extended all around the house part of the
boat. The Russian was obviously waiting for those whom he had summoned by
the note on his dog’s collar. The woman Olga was talking to him rapidly,
as Terry and Arden could hear. They noticed, as they drew nearer, that
her face seemed paler than before, and her eyes were flaming. Dimitri
looked quizzically at the approaching boat, and when they pulled
alongside he quickly grasped Tania by the collar. The dog was
transformed, suddenly, from the dignified white animal who had sat so
quietly in the boat, to a raging, snarling beast. Dimitri hustled her on
the houseboat and made her secure somewhere inside. He reappeared almost
at once and said to Terry and Arden:
“It is most kind of you to do this. I do not like to be such a nuisance,
but I promise you it shall not happen again.” The girls thought he seemed
too cross even to talk to them.
He motioned to Olga, who jumped lightly into the boat.
“Good-bye, Dimitri,” she said clearly. “You have won this time, but it is
not the end, by any means.”
“_Au’voir_, then, Olga, till we meet again. I hope it will not be—too
soon,” he said, totally ignoring all politeness and smiling, the girls
thought, bitterly.
“Thank you, comrade,” he said to Terry. “Will you take her back now? She
is driving to New York tonight.”
Though he spoke to Terry, his remark almost seemed like an order to the
dark woman, an order delivered in such a tone that it would seem
foolhardy to overlook it. So Terry nodded her sandy head, and Arden said,
“Good-bye,” almost inaudibly. Then they started back once more to Terry’s
landing.
When they were out of earshot the woman apparently regained some of her
composure; at least, she did not seem so angry.
“You know Dimitri, then?” she asked in an attempt to be pleasant.
“We gave him some candles one night, and he lent us an oar once,” Arden
answered. “We don’t see him very often.”
“No, and you won’t,” the woman added. “He is a queer one. Did he ever
show you any of his things? Any jewels, maybe?”
“Only some pictures. Why?” Arden asked frankly.
“I just wondered. Of course, he is very fond of his pictures and that dog
of his,” she went on. “The largest picture. Did you see it?”
Arden shook her head.
“Oh, well,” Olga shrugged her shoulders and adjusted her silver fox
scarf. “He won’t bother you again, I’m sure,” and she smiled to herself.
They reached “Buckingham Palace,” and Olga stepped out. With a
perfunctory “thank you” she hurried to her car. There was Melissa Clayton
gazing at it in raptures. Running her fingers over the shining fenders
and pushing the upholstery to test its softness, Melissa was enchanted.
As Terry and Arden watched, they could see Olga speak to Melissa. The
girl answered, her face wreathed in smiles. Then, as Olga spoke again,
Melissa hurried around to the side away from the steering wheel and got
in the car, shutting the door after her.
Olga, settling herself, started the motor, reversed the car on the narrow
sandy road, and turned back the way she had come, with Melissa beside
her.
For a moment the girls were speechless.
Melissa going off in the strange woman’s car!