CHAPTER XI
The French Sand
VICKI HAD A RESTLESS NIGHT. THIS WAS UNUSUAL, because her healthy young body ordinarily enabled her to drop off into restful slumber almost as soon as she turned off the light. But last night she had been disturbed by fitful dreams of big old houses with murky rooms, ghostly pirate figures chasing her, and strange creatures lurking in wait for her around dark corners. The face of old Mr. Tytell floated through her dreams, frightened and pleading, and that of Raymond Duke with his leering, white-toothed smile.
Once she woke up and lay awake for a long time, thinking about the skull and crossbones and the threatening note. It couldn’t be a prank! She was obviously getting close to something—and those involved were trying to scare her off. It could be nobody else but the masked pirate, Raymond Duke, and, she was sure of it, Mr. Eaton-Smith. Although until she had surprised him in his home last night, it had never crossed her mind that the mild-mannered travel agent might be mixed up in any kind of shady dealings.
The note also implied that one of the three knew a great deal more about her than she had suspected—specifically where she was staying in Tampa. She didn’t think Duke or Eaton-Smith could possibly have found out during the short time between the parade and her return with the Curtins. Maybe the third man then—the pirate—!
She got up and dressed early, and was having orange juice and coffee by herself in the dining room when Louise and Nina came downstairs.
“Well, well!” Nina laughed. “We thought you were the late sleeper of the household! Was the excitement of last night too much for you?”
“You don’t know the half of it!” Vicki thought to herself, but she smiled and said: “I never had so much fun in my life.”
“Then get ready for some more fun,” Louise said. “I believe you said your vacation starts today?”