No sooner was his hand on the latch, however, than the Belgian raced up with sharp barks of delight.
"Want me to come out, do you? Got something to show me?"
Again Achilles barked joyfully.
"Aren't you the tyrant, though?" remarked Walter. "I've just been to walk and am tired as the deuce. What do I wish to go tramping over the country again for?"
Nevertheless, despite his grudging protest, nothing else would satisfy the dog and at length, curious to see what caused the creature's excitement, he slipped the lock and stepped outside on to the turf. Instantly an exultant bark came from Achilles and he dashed away, only to return and take the lead through the woods, his nose to the ground and his ears erect. The boy followed. It was a race to keep up with the rapidly running vanguard. Now the chase skirted the lawn, now dipped into the pine woods. On and on went the dog, and in pursuit of him on and on went Walter.
They floundered along the slippery matting of copper, stumbling this way and that, and presently emerged where the land dropped down to the shore. The lad paused. He had no mind to scramble through the tall salt grass or sink ankle deep in the stretch of sand that adjoined it. But Achilles compelled. It was now no longer a matter of choice. The beast approached and catching the corner of the lad's sweater in his mouth tugged at it resolutely, even angrily.
Walter dared not resist. He let himself down over the edge of the bank into the sharp-edged grass, and wading through it reached the sand. Here Achilles halted. The end of their pilgrimage had, then, been reached. What was it all about? For a moment dog and man faced one another. Then, glancing about, His Highness gave a little cry. There were footprints in the sand,—deep footprints that the moisture had kept indelible. A train of them came and went toward a ribbon of automobile tracks that narrowed away up the beach and were finally lost in the confusion of a much traveled wood road.
Walter's heart leaped within him as the significance of the discovery rose before his imagination. This was the way Lola had gone.
A thief, familiar with the country and knowing the isolation of this sequestered cove, had driven through the wood road, left the car behind the dunes, and skulking through the woods, had successfully carried out a daring robbery. Perhaps he had been lingering concealed about the gardens all day or even many days. Who could tell? At any rate, he had chosen a propitious moment, provided himself with a skeleton key, and carried Lola away in the waiting motor car. Where they were now, who could tell? A car travels fast and a long distance could be covered in the two hours that had elapsed. Certainly no more time must be wasted.
With Achilles leaping before him Walter raced back to Surfside. Mr. Crowninshield, irritable and excited, was just coming out of the house.