"No, no, Miss," he demurred as he clucked to his horses.
We waved to the old fellow. As he started to drive away, he reached down into the basket and drew out some yellow harvest apples. One at a time he tossed them to us as he lumbered off.
"Truly rural," remarked a voice behind us.
It was Del Mar, all togged up and carrying a magazine in his hand.
We chatted a moment, then Elaine started to go into the house with Aunt
Josephine. With Del Mar I followed.
As she went Elaine took a bite of the apple. To her surprise it separated neatly into two hollow halves. She looked inside. There was a note. Carefully she unfolded it and read. Like the others, it was not written but printed in pencil:
Be careful to unpack all your trunks yourself. Destroy this note.—A
FRIEND.
What did these mysterious warnings mean, she asked herself in amazement. Somehow so far they had worked out all right. She tore up the note and threw the pieces away.
Del Mar and I stopped for a moment to talk. I did not notice that he was not listening to me, but was surreptitiously watching Elaine.
Elaine went into the house and we followed. Del Mar, however, dropped just a bit behind and, as he came to the place where Elaine had thrown the pieces of paper, dropped his magazine. He stooped to pick it up and gathered the pieces, then rejoined us.