Then unexpectedly, Penny came to the clearing. Scarcely seventy-five yards ahead, stood the thatched roof cottage which had attracted her interest from afar.
So quaint was the building that for a moment she gave it her entire attention, forgetting the one who watched from the bushes.
From where she stood, the cottage appeared to be about the size of a large room, and resembled a native hut. No windows were visible. The door was closed, and across it was painted in black and red a symbol which even from afar could be distinguished as a serpent-like figure.
The cottage fascinated Penny. At first glance she assumed it to be a large playhouse, but the serpent painting convinced her the building never had been intended for use of children.
A garden or tool house perhaps? She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Into her mind flashed a recollection of the drawing that had fallen from Mr. Rhett’s desk in the First National Bank. The paper had borne a plumed serpent, apparently a counterpart of the painting on the door of the thatched roof cottage!
Forgetful of the person who crouched in the bushes, Penny started eagerly forward, intending to examine the strange drawing at close range. Something whizzed past her, to embed itself in a tree trunk six inches from her head.
Brought up short, she saw that it was an arrow which had narrowly missed her. Had it been shot from the bushes behind her, and by the person who had stealthily followed her along the trail?
In cold fury, Penny jerked the arrow from the tree. Only then did she notice a folded sheet of notebook paper attached to it with a bit of string. She broke the knot and freed the paper. Across its crumbled face had been penciled a message. The lead had smeared and the words were hard to read. But she made them out.
The warning note said: “Do not approach the thatched roof cottage. To do so is to endanger your life.”