“I hope,” said Florence when they were gone, “that they get him very soon.”
A half hour later, with packs on their backs, the two girls headed up the rocky slope.
“Treasure hunt can wait,” was Florence’s comment. “We can go after that when Jeanne is back. Now we’re going to explore Greenstone Ridge.”
This course, she had thought during the night, might seem a bit dangerous with the head hunter still at large. “But the ridge is a trackless wilderness,” she had reassured herself. “He will never come upon our trail.” Which, as you will see by what follows, was a fair conclusion.
The events that followed the climbing of Greenstone Ridge on that bright and beautiful day were strange beyond belief.
CHAPTER XIV
SECRET OF GREENSTONE RIDGE
Late next afternoon the Ship of Joy with Bihari and his band, including Jeanne and the bear, went gliding down the long, narrow stretch of water known as Rock Harbor. As Jeanne, seated in a sunny spot on the deck, watched the small island to the left go gliding by, she felt, as one feels the current of galvanic electricity go coursing through his system, the thrill and mild terror that comes when one senses impending adventure, terror, or disaster. She could not tell what was to happen.
“Something will happen,” a voice seemed to whisper. “You are coming nearer and nearer.”
She did not doubt the voice. It had come to her before. Such is the gift of wandering people; they feel and know in advance.
No, she did not doubt. And yet, the low sun shone so mildly, waves lapped the boat’s sides so dreamily, islands of green and brown glided by so like drifting shadows, she forgot all else and, stretching out upon the deck, she surrendered herself to the spell of it all.