The Man in the Marsh
“Then it was you!” Arden burst out impulsively as she saw him.
“I beg your pardon?” the young man replied, somewhat puzzled. “I am Serge
Uzlov. I received a telegram this morning which brought me down here. Did
you——?”
“I sent it,” Arden replied. “We guessed at your address and sent it
because we thought you might know something about Dimitri.”
“Know something—about my own brother? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He
looked from one to the other of the girls, his face showing wonderment
and some fear.
“Of course, how could you?” Terry remarked. “Please come up on the porch,
and we’ll explain.”
There, while he sipped a cool drink Sim got for him, Serge Uzlov heard
the queer story of Dimitri’s disappearance.
“So you see,” Arden went on, “we got worried and took a chance on the
telegram.”
“It was a very lucky chance, as it turned out,” Serge agreed. “I cannot
imagine what could become of Dimitri. He’s a lonely fellow, yes. But he
always keeps in touch with me. I had a long talk with him when I was down
before, and he seemed in good health and the best of spirits.”
“He didn’t say anything about going away, then?” Arden asked.
“Not a word. In fact, he told me how much he liked it down here,” the
young man went on. “Could we not go over to the boat? I am anxious to
look around.”
“Yes, we can go over at once,” Arden replied. “We shall go by boat, it is
quicker.”
They all got into the faithful little rowboat, and the young man took the
oars. He could row with quite some skill, being an athletic type. His
tanned face showed he was no stranger to outdoor life. Arden looked
searchingly at him. Just what did he know?
Sim and Terry were curious, too. They were suspicious of everyone now.
The fact that this man claimed to be the brother of Dimitri proved
nothing.
The boat moved quickly through the quiet evening water.
“We did tell the chief of police about your brother,” Arden admitted,
“but you have nothing to fear from him. He’s studying the case, as he
says, and the last time we saw him he was working on his old car.”
The young man smiled. “I am sure Dimitri will be found all right,” he
said. “And I’m very grateful to you for sending for me. It was indeed
fortunate that you found the paper. From your description of it, I think
it must have been from my sister Olga. She has been here, she tells me,
to see Dimitri.”
“Olga! Your sister!” Sim exclaimed unbelievingly.
“Yes,” Serge Uzlov replied. “There are just the three of us, now. Olga,
Dimitri, and I. We are a queer family, I suppose, each one living alone;
each one having his own friends and always trying to make ends meet.”
“I don’t know just what we imagined about you and your sister,” Arden
said slyly, “but it never occurred to us, I’m sure, that you two were
related.”
“And you were too well mannered to ask,” Serge suggested, smiling.
“Or perhaps we just didn’t think about it,” Sim said modestly.
The young man pulled vigorously, and the little rowboat plowed through
the bay. To their right, as they approached it, lay the _Merry Jane_,
looking as they had last seen it.
When they were close to the houseboat, Tania began to bark: sharp,
staccato barks and deep growls in her throat.
“Tania must have heard us coming,” Sim suggested.
“I think, Sim,” Arden corrected her, “that Tania’s barking at something
else. She sounds pretty angry to me.”
They listened again. Tania was snarling and barking furiously.
“Tania!” called Arden as they came alongside the houseboat. “Tania, we
are your friends!”
As she called they all heard the sound of running footsteps on the part
of the deck farthest away from them.
“There’s somebody here!” Serge cried, and hurried to make fast the
rowboat.
Leaving the girls still seated in the skiff, Serge leaped from it to the
deck of the _Merry Jane_ just in time to see a man jump over the side
into the deep marsh grass.
Serge looked after him, but the intruder was completely hidden by the
tall growth.
“He got away!” Serge called to the girls. He was about to follow the
runaway man when Arden stopped him.
“There’s no use in following him, you could never catch him in that
marsh,” she said and Serge was forced to agree with her as he saw how
dense were the tall cat-tails and sedge-grass in the swamp.
“What did he look like?” Terry asked.
“I couldn’t see his face. He was just going over the side when I
approached. But I saw black rubber boots.”
“That might have been anyone,” Arden said. “Half the natives in Oceanedge
wear boots around the marsh.”
“Let’s go inside,” suggested Sim, “and see what he was after.”
“Yes,” agreed Serge. “That’s the only thing to do now.”
He led the way and, not pausing for a moment in the outer room, parted
the curtains and, as the girls could see, went straight to the shattered
cupboard.
“It’s gone!” Serge exclaimed. He turned to face the girls, his hands
spread wide in a gesture of despair. “It’s gone!”