Olga Makes Light of It
“To find out something,” was what Olga had said, her dark eyes flashing.
The girls, too, wanted to find things out. Did Olga know about the
missing snuffbox, and did she also know, or suspect, where Dimitri might
be?
They eagerly accepted the invitation to get into the car. Olga drove
rapidly, scorning ruts and bumps. Once she spoke questioningly to Arden,
who was in the front seat with her.
“My little friend, Melissa? Did she enjoy her ride?”
“Very much,” replied Arden. “But she got into trouble over it. Her
father——”
“Ah, yes, she told me of him. Have you seen her recently, then?”
“Not for quite a few days,” Arden answered, and then she remembered, with
a start, that no one had seen Melissa or George Clayton for—she could not
recall how long. Three or four days, at least.
“The dog!” Olga exclaimed suddenly. “Is she still on the boat? She cannot
bear me. I attempted to discipline her once, and ever since that I cannot
go near her. She never forgets.”
“She’s still there, but I guess we can tie her up before you go in,”
Arden said, wondering how they were going to do it.
Then Olga drove without talking further. When they got to the end of the
narrow road leading to the houseboat the three girls sprang out and,
going on board, coaxed Tania to the stern of the craft, where they tied
her securely. They then called down that it was safe for Olga to come
aboard.
“Watch her carefully,” Arden cautioned Terry and Sim, indicating Olga.
“Notice just what she does.”
Terry and Sim agreed silently as Olga appeared at the steps. Tania barked
furiously at the sight of her and strained to get loose. Olga, casting
the merest glance in the direction of the animal, at once went inside the
houseboat. The three girls followed close behind her. She did not
hesitate in the living room. But, walking briskly, pushed aside the
curtains and stopped short as the broken cupboard caught her eye. The
mysterious covered canvas might not have been there for all the notice
she gave it.
“Who did that?” she asked, angrily turning to the girls. “Who? Tell me at
once!”
“We found it that way,” Arden answered. “What’s the matter?”
“Matter?” Olga repeated. “Did you not know, then, that Dimitri had here a
gold box worth a fortune? Come! I see by your faces you did know. This is
where he kept it. I told him it was foolish. After all, one can get
around Tania with a piece of raw beef. Yes!”
She was quite beside herself with rage. Her dark eyes flashed, and she
bit her lips impatiently. Then, apparently realizing how odd all this
must seem to the girls and shrugging her shoulders, she attempted to make
light of the incident. With another shrug of her expressive shoulders,
she said:
“But of course he has removed his precious box with him. He can take care
of himself, that one. Ha! Yes! There is no use wasting time here. I must
get back to New York—quickly!”
Olga fumbled in her bag and pulled out a gaudy compact. At the same time
a paper fell but, though she did not notice it, none of the girls
attempted to pick it up. The whole affair seemed to rob them of their
natural intelligence. Olga’s personality was so overpowering.
“But,” Arden began, “why should he break open the cupboard? Surely he had
a key.”
“I have known him to lose things more important than keys. Don’t worry
your pretty heads over it, Dimitri is not harmed, I am sure of it.” Olga
used her compact vigorously. All that she did was vigorous.
“And Tania,” Sim reminded her. “He left nothing for her to eat.”
“About that I know nothing. Oh, you dear, foolish children! What do you
think has happened? Murder? Abduction? Come, I am going back!” Olga swept
out of the small space. She had succeeded in making the girls feel very
young and rather silly. They followed her almost against their wills, and
she drove them back to the cottage, where she stopped and, smiling
brightly, said:
“Please don’t distress yourselves. I tell you, Dimitri is very capable.
You believe me—yes?”
“Yes, of course,” Arden faltered.
“Oh, and if you see my little friend Melissa, tell her I have been here,
will you?”
The girls nodded dumbly, and Olga drove off up the muddy road, splashing
the brown water widely out from beneath the wheels.
There was a temporary lull in the storm, a sort of breathing spell. The
rain had ceased, and the wind was less. The surf, though, was heavier
than ever, booming on and tearing at the beach.
Arden stood in a little pool of rain water watching the car fade from
sight. She suddenly moved aside as the water soaked through her shoes and
wet her feet.
“What next?” she asked of no one in particular. “She is the queerest
person I ever saw.”
“Do you think she really was disturbed about Dimitri and just pretended
she wasn’t?” Sim inquired.
“If you ask me,” Terry began, “she doesn’t care a snap about Dimitri. But
she did seem mad about the box and the broken cupboard.”
“That’s just what I thought,” agreed Arden. “I think she was surprised to
find it gone, and maybe I’m crazy, too, but she seemed to expect that,
somehow.”
“Why should we tell Melissa we saw her?” Terry reflected. “Anyway, we
haven’t seen Melissa for days, and that’s odd, too.”
“That’s just Olga’s manner: playing Lady Bountiful to the poor native
child,” Sim sneered. “What does she know about Melissa, anyway?”
“What does she know about this whole business?” Arden said firmly. “I’m
for telling Chief Reilly. Then, if anything should be wrong, our
consciences would be clear. What do you say?”
“I think you’re right, Arden!” Terry exclaimed. “There’s more to this
than we realize. Wait till I tell Mother where we’re going.”
Terry ran into the house and was out again almost at once.
Arden backed the car from the garage, Sim shut the doors after her, and
the three were ready for the drive to the village.
“Let’s go!” called Terry hopping into the moving car. “Hurry, Arden! It’s
beginning to rain again.”