The Tragic Messenger
The wind increased in violence, and with the high tide of the afternoon
the surf pounded with wild fury. At Terry’s home the rain lashed the
windows, and the awnings protested noisily against the gale. Arden
announced blandly that she no longer felt “merry as a grig.”
“Let’s play rummy, the storm makes me restless,” Sim suggested.
“If you feel restless now, I hate to think how you’ll feel after three
days of it,” Terry reminded her.
“Three days!” Arden exclaimed. “I’ll have to get out my tatting to keep
me busy, I guess.”
“You can’t tat, silly,” Sim smiled. “Come on, let’s play cards.”
Terry opened a painted card table, and they began a half-hearted game of
rummy. But Arden couldn’t concentrate, so Terry and Sim told her to “give
up,” whereat they abandoned the cards.
“Listen to that old ocean,” Arden remarked. “If you were out there now,
Sim, it would take more than Melissa to pull you to safety.”
“Wasn’t she great?” Sim asked. “She knew just how to go about it. I
wasn’t scared, but I was beginning to tire. Melissa took me out beyond
the current, and then we struck a stroke and got in easily. Were you
frightened?”
“We were a little,” Terry admitted. “We weren’t sure whether you were all
right. I was ready to come out when Melissa dashed by us like a shot, and
then it seemed only a few seconds till you were back on the beach.”
“She’s a marvelous swimmer,” Sim said admiringly. “I wish she could lead
a more pleasant life, poor girl.”
“Chief Reilly didn’t seem to think her father was so awful,” Terry
remarked.
“Oh, Chief Reilly!” Arden exclaimed. “He doesn’t seem to think much
anyway.”
“He doesn’t have to think much. There’s nothing for him to think about
down here. I don’t know what he’d do if he ever had a real case,” Terry
went on.
“The excitement would probably be too much for him. I’ll bet he reads
detective stories and has it all planned out just the way he’d conduct a
murder inquiry,” Arden laughed.
“Yes,” Sim agreed. “He’d probably go measuring footprints and looking for
clues. Do you suppose he’d use bloodhounds?”
“Why not?” Terry asked. “None of our well-known detectives ever used
bloodhounds, so it’s reasonable to suppose that Detective Reilly would.”
“We’re not so bad ourselves at solving mysteries. How about the Apple
Orchard and Jockey Hollow?” Arden reminded them.
“Of course—we’re really very good,” Terry agreed facetiously. “I could do
with a nice mystery. This is ideal weather for it. Angry sea, howling
wind and dashing rain, big black clouds——”
“Do you ever have any murders or serious crimes down here, Terry?” Sim
asked suddenly.
“Yes—we had a very important one about three years ago. Reilly saw a
headless tiny body floating in the bay,” Terry said dramatically.
“No, really?” Arden and Sim were all attention.
“Really,” answered Terry. “But when they picked it up, it turned out to
be a doll some youngster dropped in the water.”
“Oh, Terry,” Sim said throwing a pillow at her. “You had me all worked
up.”
Terry laughed mischievously and threw the pillow back. A well aimed throw
from Arden caught Terry squarely in the face with such force that the
chair in which she was sitting went over backwards and Terry with it. In
the scramble that followed they did not hear the scratching at the door.
It was not until they took a little breathing spell that Arden cautioned
them to be quiet.
“Ssh-sh a minute,” she said. “Did you hear that scratching?”
They listened. It came from the front door, and this time a bark also
could be heard.
“It’s a dog!” Sim exclaimed, and getting up from the pile of cushions on
the floor she went to open the door.
“Why, it’s Tania!” Arden declared. “The poor dog! Look at her!”
Poor dog indeed! The silky, white fur clung to her thin frame, and a
piece of rope trailed from her collar. Like all dogs of her breed, she
was thin when in the best of condition, but now she looked worse than
that. She seemed really like a poor starved animal.
“She looks terrible,” Arden exclaimed, and disregarding the wet fur she
began to stroke the regally pointed head.
“She’s hungry. Look how thin she is. Let’s give her something to eat,”
Terry suggested, already starting toward the kitchen.
Tania was extremely grateful for the food Terry put before her and ate
ravenously, while the girls murmured soothingly to the grateful dog.
“But how strange that she should get like this,” Terry reminded them.
“Dimitri always takes such good care of her.”
“And that old rope, the end looks frayed off. Do you suppose——” Arden
looked at her chums with terror in her eyes. This, coming directly after
their talk, joking as it was, about murders, gave them all a shocked,
sudden pause. It seemed horrible even to imagine that Dimitri——
“Oh, Arden! How awful! We haven’t seen Dimitri for a week. Do you
think——” Terry was too frightened to put intelligible questions.
Arden nodded her head solemnly. “I’m afraid so,” she said in a quiet
voice. “Something must have happened on board the _Merry Jane_.”
For the first time the girls realized how interested they had become in
Dimitri. His charming manners, his accent, his appearance, and the almost
mysterious aloofness he maintained, all went to make him most attractive.
Now that they feared foul play might have overtaken him, it was dismaying
even to guess what had happened on the lonely houseboat.
But poor mute Tania could not tell them her story.