A STRANGE PROCEEDING
They did not appear to see her until Harriet was within a few yards of
them.
Then they halted sharply, dropped their burden and straightened up.
The right hand of one of them slipped to his hip pocket, then a few
seconds later was slowly withdrawn with a handkerchief in it.
"It's a girl," exclaimed one of the pair in a low voice.
"Well, what do you think about that?"
"Hello, there, Miss! What is it? Who are ye?" demanded one of the men.
"I was about to ask the same question of you. What are you doing
here?"
"This here is free coast, young woman. We've as good a right to be
here as yourself, and maybe more right," returned the stranger.
"That depends, sir. I wish you wouldn't speak so loudly, either. You
will awaken my companions. I would just as soon they did not see you,
for I don't like the looks of you in the dark."
"Companions!" exploded one of the men under his breath. "Whew! Where
are they?"
"In the cabin. We are occupying it now. Where were you going with that
box? You know there is nothing but the sea beyond here. This is a bar.
The mainland is the other way. Perhaps you thought you were headed up
the beach?"
"Sure we did, Miss. Thank you. We'll be going. Sorry to have disturbed
you. Got some provisions for a friend of ours who is down this part of
the coast on a fishing trip. Thank you."
They gathered up their burden and started back toward the beach as
fast as they could stagger, Harriet in the meantime standing where
they had left her, gazing after them with forehead wrinkled into
ridges of perplexity. Harriet watched the men all the way back to the
beach. She saw them put down the box they had been carrying and stand
looking back at her. Harriet quickly retraced her steps to the cabin,
in the shadow of which she halted and continued her watching.
The men stood for some time, evidently engaged in a discussion,
though no sound of voices reached the listening girl. They then picked
up their box and walked down the beach with it.
"That is odd. They said they were going up the beach with provisions
for a friend. I don't understand this proceeding at all, but it looks
questionable to me. I know what I'll do; I'll follow them."
The Meadow-Brook Girl did not stop to consider that she had decided
upon a possibly dangerous adventure. Stooping over as low as possible
and yet remain on her feet, Harriet ran full speed toward the beach.
She saw the men halt and put down the box, whereat the girl flattened
herself on the sandy bar and lay motionless until, finally, they
picked up their burden and went on. She was able to make out the
sailboat anchored some little distance out in the bay.
"They must have brought the box off from the boat," she mused. "I
wonder what is in it? I am positive that there is some mystery here.
It isn't my affair, but my woman's curiosity makes me wonder what it
is all about. There they go again." She was up and off, this time
reaching the beach before they put down the box again. Now Harriet was
reasonably safe from discovery. She crouched close to the sandy bluff
and lay watching. She saw one of the men put off in a rowboat, which
he propelled rapidly over to the sailboat. He did not remain there
long, and she saw him pulling back to shore as if in more haste than
when he went out.
"Now they are going to do something," decided the watching girl. "Yes,
they are going to take the box."
The men did. Picking it up, they carried it back in among the trees,
Harriet following at a safe distance, picking her way cautiously, not
making the slightest sound in moving about among the spindling pines.
Finally, realizing that the men had stopped, the girl crouched down
with eyes and ears on the alert. She could hear them at work. They
were not going ahead, but they were engaged in some occupation the
nature of which for the moment puzzled Harriet Burrell. Then all at
once the truth flashed into her mind.
"They are hiding the box!" exclaimed the girl under her breath. "But
why are they doing that? What secret could be so dark that it needs
hiding in the woods? I shall make it my business to find out. There,
they are coming out."
She threw herself on the ground. She could hear the men approaching.
They seemed, from the sound of their voices, to be coming directly
toward her. Harriet gathered herself ready for a spring in case of
discovery, which now seemed imminent, then again flattened herself on
the ground.
"I won't run until I have to," she decided. Courage was required for a
girl to remain in Harriet's position under the circumstances, but
Harriet Burrell had plenty of this and to spare. In the meantime the
men were rapidly drawing near. They were conversing in low tones, but
the girl in hiding on the ground was unable to make out what they were
saying. Rather was her attention centered on what they were going to
do, which was the all-important question at that moment. But Harriet
was not left long in suspense. The men were coming straight toward
her. She could see them quite plainly now, and wondered why they did
not see her. It was evident that they had not yet done so, perhaps
because they were so fully occupied with their own affairs.
Harriet Burrell braced herself. To rise would mean instant discovery;
to remain as she was, possible avoidance of it. She decided upon the
latter course and lay still. Within a minute the expected occurred.
The men had swerved to their right slightly, raising the hope in the
mind of Harriet that they were going to pass her without discovering
her. Instead a heavy boot came in contact with her own feet. There
followed a muttered exclamation, the man pitched headlong, the girl
having stiffened her limbs to meet the shock the instant she felt the
touch of the boot against her feet.
The man's companion laughed uproariously and was called sharply to
account by the one who had fallen.
Now came the supreme test for Harriet. She could scarcely restrain
herself from crying out, springing up and running away. Instead, she
lay perfectly quiet, breathing as lightly as possible. The man got up
growling.
"Confound these dark holes," he snarled.
"Hurt yourself?" questioned his companion.
"No, only skinned my wrist. Let's get back to the boat. Why doesn't
the Cap'n do it himself instead of asking us to take all the risks and
all the knocks to boot?"
"Because he is paying us for doing it. I reckon you'd better do as
you're told if you want to come in for the clean-up. We'd better be
hustling, too, for Cap'n wants to get under way. We've lost too much
time already and we'll be in bad first thing we know."
The man who had fallen answered with an unintelligible growl. He had
not looked behind him to see what he had fallen over. Instead, he
wrapped a handkerchief about his wrist and started on. The two men
trudged on down toward where they had left their boat. They were
nearly at the beach before Harriet Burrell finally sat up.
"Wasn't that a narrow escape?" she breathed. "He fell over me and
never saw me. I wonder if my ankle is broken? It feels as though it
were. How it did hurt when he kicked me! It is a wonder I did not
scream. I wonder what they are going to do now?"
She got up and limped toward the beach, using a little less caution
than she had done when coming out. She paused just at the edge of the
trees, where she stood in the shadow observing the men. They shoved
the boat off and followed it out a little way, splashing in the water
with their heavy boots, for the beach was too shallow to permit their
getting into the rowboat and rowing directly away from the shore. They
first had to shove it off into deeper water. This was quickly
accomplished, and piling in, one of the pair began rowing out toward
the sailboat.
The Meadow-Brook girl sat down and began to rub her injured ankle. The
rowboat was now merely a dark blotch out on the bay. The blotch neared
the sailboat and was lost in the shadow that surrounded the larger
craft. A few moments later Harriet heard the anchor being hauled in,
then the creak of the rings on the mast as the sail was being raised.
The boat got under way quickly and with very little disturbance, swung
to the breeze, the boom lurching to the leeward side of the boat with
a "clank." Then the sailboat began moving slowly from the bay. There
were no lights to be seen either within or without. The boat was in
darkness. Harriet gazed with straining eyes until the boat had finally
merged with the sea and was lost to view. A few moments later she
caught the twinkle of a masthead light. She watched the light and saw
that it was moving slowly up the coast.
"That's the last of them for to-night," she reflected. "I wonder where
they put that box and what is in it? However, I can't look for it
to-night. I will see if I can find out anything about it in the
morning. I hope Miss Elting hasn't awakened and missed me."
Harriet stepped quickly down to the beach. She gained the bar and ran
until she reached the cabin. Listening outside the door, she found
that her companions were still asleep. She crept cautiously into the
cabin, undressed, rolled in her blanket and lay staring up at the
ceiling until her heavy eyelids closed and she was sound asleep. Her
companions apparently had slept through the entire adventure, for
which Harriet Burrell was thankful.