“Righto—it’s speed. Look at her nose! Up and after ’em! Look back of us at the wash. But also listen to that sound. Some of these days when I need speed and think I’m going to get it, I’m going to find myself in trouble if I don’t find the cause for it,” and Frank’s tone was one of extreme worry.
“What’s the use of worrying? I don’t hear anything half as much as I see some speed. This is great!”
Gradually the speed of the Rocket was lessened, for Frank was not inclined to take chances on something which he did not understand.
“How far do we go?” asked Lanky.
“Up to Crescent Island. Father asked me to deliver that message in my coat pocket up to Mr. Sneed on the Island. I guess it must have been important, or he would have sent it by mail.”
Around a long bend of the river they went, past one of the prettiest of the island group, whereon a handsome summer home stood back of the shrubbery.
“I wonder why Mrs. Parsons keeps that big place on the island and also her home on the shore of the river,” idly observed Lanky Wallace, nodding over to the very handsome old home on the shore of the river, standing back on a knoll, protected from the view of the river boats by great trees and row upon row of shrubs.
“I understand she has become a sort of miser since Mr. Parsons died. I have heard that she keeps lots of her family heirlooms and silver and all that sort of thing up there.
“I’ve heard all sorts of mysterious things about her place, among them that she has secret chambers to keep her money and jewels,” and Lanky looked back at the place. “But, Frank, I don’t believe half of those stories. You know that lots of the small talk we hear in town about many folks isn’t so.”
“That’s true enough,” agreed Frank. “Of course, there is the old saying that where there’s smoke there is also fire, but I can’t help but think that a sensible person who is rich is not going to keep stuff of that sort about the place, exposed to thieves and burglars.”