PLEASURE DRAWS NEAR
As she looked, a flush stole over Billie’s face and she tried hastily to hide the chocolate in the pocket of her suit before the girls could see it.
She would have succeeded if Vi had not accidentally touched her elbow at that moment, knocking the package of chocolate from her hand and into the aisle of the car where it lay, face up, accusingly.
Billie stretched out an eager hand for it, but Laura was just before her.
“Aha!” she cried triumphantly, waving the little brown rectangle aloft. “Candy! Where’d you get it, Billie Bradley?” She turned swiftly upon Billie, whose face was the color of a particularly gorgeous beet. Vi and Connie looked on delightedly.
“Goodness! anybody would think it was a crime to have candy,” cried Billie indignantly. “You give it to me, Laura, or——” She made a grab for her property, but Laura snatched it back out of her reach.
“No, you don’t,” she said, putting her hands behind her determinedly. “Not till you tell us where you got it.”
“Well I’m not going to,” said Billie crossly. “It’s none of your business.” And she turned away and looked steadily out of the window.
“Give it back to her, Laura,” begged Vi. “It isn’t fair to tease her so.”
“Well then, she shouldn’t tease so beautifully,” Laura retorted, as, relenting, she slipped Teddy’s gift back into Billie’s pocket.
At that moment they were startled by a fearful racket—a sound as if all the South Sea pirates that had ever been born had gathered together and were all quarreling at once.
There was a great craning of necks as startled passengers tried to see what it was all about and the girls fairly jumped from their seats—for the racket sounded in their very ears.
Across the aisle from them there was a parrot—a great green and red parrot that at that moment was hanging by its claws to the roof of its cage and was still emitting the raucous squawks that sounded like the talking of a hundred pirates all rolled into one.
An elderly woman who looked as if she might be a spinster of the type generally known as “old maid” was doing her best to silence the bird while she fished wildly in her bag for something.
She found what she was looking for—a heavy black cloth, and, with a sigh of relief, flung it across the cage. Immediately the parrot’s uproar subsided to a muttering and a moment later stopped altogether.
Passengers who had craned their necks dropped back in their seats chuckling, picked up magazines or papers or whatever they had been reading where they had left off, and peace settled over the car again. For all save the girls, that is.
For the elderly woman—who most certainly was an old maid—had been terribly embarrassed over the bird’s outbreak and began explaining to the girls how she happened to have it in her possession, what troubles she had already had with it, how glad she would be when she delivered the bird to her brother, who was its rightful owner, and so on until the girls became desperate enough to throw things at her.
“Isn’t there some way we can stop her!” whispered Vi in Connie’s ear, while Billie and Laura were listening to the woman’s chatter with forced smiles and polite “yeses and nos.” “If I have to listen to that voice another minute I’ll scream—I know I shall.”
“The only way to stop her that I can think of,” Connie whispered back, “would be to take the cover off the parrot’s cage. He would drown out most anybody.”
This kept up practically all morning with the owner of the parrot talking on tirelessly and the girls trying to listen politely until lunch time came.
Thankfully they made their way through the swaying train to the dining car and sat themselves gratefully down at a little table set for four.
“Thank goodness we’ve escaped,” sighed Billie, as her eyes wandered eagerly down the bill of fare, for Billie was very hungry. “What will you have, girls? I could eat everything on the card without stopping to breathe.”
When they returned to their car after lunch they found to their relief that the talkative old woman was gathering up her things as if about to change cars at the junction—which was the next stop.
She did get out at the junction, parrot and all, and the girls fairly hugged each other in their delight.
“Poor old thing,” said Billie as the train swung out from the station and the parrot cage disappeared. “I wonder,” she added after a moment, “if I’ll ever get like that.”
“You!” scoffed Vi, with a fond glance at Billie’s lovely face. “Yes, you look a lot like an old maid.”
“And didn’t Teddy give her candy this morning?” added Laura, with a wicked glance at Billie, who said not a word, but stared steadily out of the window.
They bought magazines and tried to read them, but finally gave up the attempt. What was the use of reading about other people’s adventures when a far more thrilling one was in store for them at Lighthouse Island?
Billie said something like this, but Connie shook her head doubtfully.
“I don’t know how we’re going to have any adventures,” she said. “There isn’t so very much to do besides swimming and rowing in Uncle Tom’s rowboat——”
“Goodness, isn’t that enough?” said Billie, turning on her. “Why, just being at the seashore is an adventure. Just think, I’ve never in my life been inside a really truly lighthouse. It’s going to be just wonderful, Connie.”
“And aren’t the boys coming in their motor boat, too?” added Vi eagerly. “Why, they will probably take us for a sail around the point and everything. Connie, how can you say we’re not going to have any adventures?”
Connie laughed.
“All right,” she said. “Don’t shoot. I’ll take it all back. And there’s Uncle Tom’s clam chowder,” she added. “People come from all over just to taste it.”
“What time is it, Laura?” asked Billie, turning from the window suddenly and tapping nervously on the window sill. “It won’t take us very much longer to get there, will it?”
“Only three hours,” answered Laura, consulting her wrist watch.
“Only three hours!” groaned Billie. “And I thought we were nearly there.”
There was silence for a little while after that while the girls took up their magazines again and turned the pages listlessly. At the end of another half hour they gave up the attempt entirely and leaned their heads wearily against the backs of the seats, fixing their eyes upon the ever-changing scenery that fled past them.
“Are we going to form our Detective Club?” asked Connie suddenly out of the silence.
The girls stared at her a minute as if she had roused them out of sleep.
“For goodness sake, what made you think of that now?” asked Laura a little peevishly. “I’m so tired I don’t want to form clubs or anything else. All I want is to get out somewhere where I can stretch my legs, get some supper, and go to bed. I’m dead.”
“You’re making lots of noise for a dead one,” chuckled Billie, and Laura made a face at her.
“But no one’s answered my question,” broke in Connie plaintively. “I thought you girls loved mysteries and things.”
“Well, who says we don’t?” cried Laura. “Just show me a good live mystery and I’ll forget I’m all tied up in knots and everything.”
“Just listen to her!” exclaimed Connie indignantly. “Do you mean to say you’ve forgotten that we have a mystery already?”
“Oh—that,” said Laura slowly, while a light began to dawn. “Yes, I did forget about it; we’ve been so busy getting ready and everything.”
“Well, I haven’t forgotten about it,” said Billie, sitting up suddenly, while her cheeks began to glow pink. “And the more I think about it, the funnier it seems to me.”
“What?” asked Vi.
“Oh, everything,” answered Billie, getting more excited as she spoke. “Hugo Billings in the first place. And then finding Miss Arbuckle’s album in the woods. And the children. Girls, I’m just sure they are mysteries—and real ones, too.”