They ran over to Monhegan. When she found that Ruth and Pearl were gone, her desire to be back increased tenfold.
Hardly had she raced up to the big cottage on the hill to change from middy and short blue skirt to blouse and knickers than she went tearing at a perilous rate down the hill toward Ruth’s house.
By great good fortune both Ruth and Pearl were there.
“Oh, girls!” she exclaimed in an excited whisper. “I have a most beautiful secret! There’s a hole in the floor and it’s all full of the most marvelous silk things!”
“A hole in the floor!” said Ruth, quite mystified by the girl’s wild rambling.
“Come down to the beach.” Betty dragged at their arms. “No one will hear us there. I—I’ll tell you all about it. Oh, girls! We must do something about it! We truly must!”
Away to the beach they went. There on the golden sand with the dark waters murmuring at their feet, with the lights of Portland Harbor winking and blinking at them, and the moon looking down upon them like some benevolent old grandfather, the two girls listened while Betty unfolded the story of her two visits to old Fort Skammel.
“A warm room,” she said at the end in a voice that was husky with excitement, “a warm room, all glowing with a weird yellow light, and full of silk things, dresses and dresses, all pink and gold, and blue and green. You never saw any like them.”
“We’ll go over there,” said Ruth, “but not at night.”
“No, not at night.” Betty shuddered.