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 The right hand of one of them slipped to his hip pocket, then a few seconds later was slowly withdrawn with a handkerchief in it.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.