They watched a moment in silence and then Virginia remarked: “He didn’t turn and so he must be coming here. How I hope that he has a message from Malcolm. Brother has been away for three days now and I haven’t heard a word. I cannot help feeling troubled if I do not hear at least that often. So many dangers lurk on a desert, and now, added to them, is that outlaw who is supposed to be hiding in our mountains.”
The girls went out on the veranda as the small boy approached. He removed his gayly adorned peaked hat and took from it a letter, which he handed to Virginia. That girl had a box of Christmas candy which she had caught up from the table as she passed and this she gave the dark eyed little boy whose white teeth gleamed as he smiled his pleasure.
Then thanking Virginia in his own musical language, his pony galloped away. Virginia glanced at the folded paper. “Why, this isn’t Malcolm’s handwriting after all,” she exclaimed in dismay. “Oh Megsy, I do hope that nothing has happened to my darling brother.”
They went indoors, but Virginia’s anxiety was quickly changed to mirth, and her merry laughter rang out.
“Virg, what is it that amuses you?” Megsy asked, truly puzzled. “I thought a moment ago that you were troubled.”
Without answering, Virginia led her friend toward a big desk in a sunny corner and sat down in the swinging chair that had been her father’s. “Sit near me,” she then said. “I have a task ahead of me.” Then, seeing that Margaret looked even more mystified than before, she added, by way of explanation: “Years ago, Buddie and I made up a code. We didn’t have any other children to play with and so we read many books of thrilling adventure. In one of them we found the inspiration for our code and we used to write letters to each other, pretending to tell secrets of a very serious nature. Honestly, Megsy, I have spent hours trying to decipher some message that Malcolm had sent me, to find, of course, that it was all make believe. We each had a key to the code, and evidently Malcolm still has his, but I am not real sure where mine is, but I think it is somewhere in this old desk. Of course I know that the message he has sent today is of a serious nature, and I simply must find the key to the code and decipher it as soon as possible.”
While Virginia talked she opened one drawer in the old desk after another, removed papers yellowing with age and felt in the far corners, but the key to the code was not found.
“What do you suppose can be in that message?” Margaret queried.
“I believe it has something to do with his mining enterprise,” Virg said, then continued: “The facts, so far, are that this Irish prospector, Pat Mahoy, found what he believed to be paying ore on Second peak and said that if brother and I would grubstake him, we three would be partners. Malcolm decided to return with Mr. Mahoy and look at the property, and as you know, he has been gone three days. Now I conclude that my brother believes the mine to be a great find and wishes to tell me so in a way that no one else can read. Perhaps he wants me to do something that may be very important and that must be kept a secret, hence he has used the code of our childhood.” Then, rising, she left the desk as she said: “I have searched there thoroughly but not a sign of the key did I find.”
“Isn’t there a secret drawer to the old desk?” Margaret asked, hopefully. If there was one thing more than another that Margaret liked, it was mystery, and the idea of a secret drawer or a panel that slid back, had always delighted her. Virginia laughingly shook her head. “Nary a secret drawer,” she declared.