The Dragon's Secret Part 7

"Oh, do tell me what you mean!" cried Phyllis. "How you do love to mystify a person!"

"Well," whispered Leslie, her eyes still on the door of the little store, "when she threw open her coat I just happened to glance at her dress, and noticed that it had a girdle of some dark green, crepe-y material, and the two ends had fringes of beads--_and the beads were just like the ones in Curlew's Nest_!"

Phyllis simply stared at her, open-mouthed and incredulous. "It can't be!" she muttered at length. "Even if the beads were like the ones you found--there are probably more persons than one who have some like them."

"Yes, that's true," admitted Leslie, "but the color--and queer shape--everything!--At least, it's something worth investigating. It's the first real clue we've had."

At that moment, the girl in question came out of the store, sprang into the car, whirled the wheel about, and was off down the street in a cloud of dust. They stood gazing after her.

"It doesn't seem possible!" exclaimed Phyllis. "It just can't be! And yet--tell you what! I'm just wondering whether she's staying anywhere around here or is just a casual stranger pa.s.sing through the town. Let's go in and ask old Mrs. Selby if she knows anything about her. If she's staying here, Mrs. Selby will positively know it. I'll make the excuse of having forgotten to buy something. Come along!"

She hustled Leslie back into the little shop and soon had little Mrs.

Selby hunting for a size and variety of sh.e.l.l hair-pin of which she had no need whatever, as she possessed already a plentiful supply at home.

But it was the only thing she could think of at the moment. When they were being wrapped, she asked quite casually:

"Was that young girl who just went out a stranger here, Mrs. Selby, or is she stopping in the village? Seems to me I don't recall her face."

"Oh, she ain't exactly a stranger," replied Mrs. Selby with alacrity, quite waking up at the prospect of retailing a bit of gossip; "But she ain't been around here so long--only a couple of weeks or so. She comes in here once in a while, but she ain't very friendly like--never pa.s.ses the time o' day nor nothing,--just asks for what she wants and goes out.

I never did quite take to manners like that. n.o.body else here acts so--not even the summer folks. I can't think how she was brung up! They do say as she ain't an American,--that she's English or something,--but I don't know for sure. Anyhow, she don't mix with no one--just runs around in that ottymobile all the time."

"Where's she stopping?" went on Phyllis. "The hotel is closed. I thought all the summer people but ourselves had gone."

"Oh, she's boarding up to Aunt Sally Blake's. I dunno how she come to go there, but there she is. I wonder how Aunt Sally gets along with her?"

"Have you heard what her name is?" pursued Phyllis, as she received her parcel.

"They do say her name is Ramsay--Miss Ramsay. Good morning, young ladies, and thank you. Come in again soon."

When they were out on the street, Leslie clutched Phyllis spasmodically and her eyes were almost popping out of her head.

"Is there the least doubt in your mind _now_, Phyllis Kelvin?" she demanded. "Her name is Ramsay--the very same name that was on the envelop in the book!"

And Phyllis was obliged to acknowledge herself convinced.

CHAPTER IX

AUNT SALLY ADDS TO THE MYSTIFICATION

THE two girls walked home in a state bordering on stupefaction. Every little while Phyllis would stop to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e: "Who would have thought it!

The horrid little sn.o.b! I really can't believe yet that it is she, Leslie--our 'mysterious she!' I'm sure there must be some mistake."

"Well, of course, it _may_ not be so," Leslie admitted, "but you must see how many things point to it. The beads are identical. I stood so near her that I had a fine chance to see them closely. Her name is the same as the one on the envelop in the book--"

"Yes, but that isn't the name of the man who hired the bungalow,"

objected Phyllis.

"That's quite true, but even so, you can't tell what connection there may be with the other name. It isn't exactly a common one, and that makes it all the more likely that we may be right. And then, there's the fact of her being so near here--right in the village. I have always imagined that whoever it was had to come from quite a distance, and I've always wondered how she managed it, so late at night."

"But Leslie, why on earth should she come to that bungalow in the dead of night, in a storm, and hide that 'Dragon's Secret'? What mysterious affair can she be mixed up with, anyway?"

Leslie, however, had no solution to offer to this poser, but she did have a sudden idea that made her stop short in the road and gasp:

"Do you realize, Phyllis Kelvin, that we are doing a very questionable--yes, a _wrong_ thing in keeping the 'Dragon's Secret,' when it evidently belongs to this girl?"

"How do you _know_ it belongs to this girl?" countered Phyllis. "You only _guess_ that it may, when all's said and done. You didn't see her hide it there--you didn't even see _her_ at the bungalow. We may be way off the track, for all you know, and we'd be a pretty pair of geese to go and meekly hand it to her, shouldn't we! And do you know, even if I was simply _positive_ it was hers, I just wouldn't give it to her, anyway, for a while. I'd let her stew and fret for it for a good long spell--after such hatefulness!"

Phyllis's manner was so vindictive that Leslie had to smile in spite of herself.

"But oh, see here!" Phyllis went on. "_I_ have an idea--a glorious idea!

It may help to clear up a lot of things. I know Aunt Sally Blake very well, and we'll go and see her--this very afternoon! Perhaps she can give us more light on the subject."

"But wouldn't that seem too plainly like tracking down this--Miss Ramsay?" objected Leslie, "especially as she doesn't appear to care for our acquaintance!"

"Not a bit!" declared Phyllis, positively. "You don't realize how well _I_ know Aunt Sally. Why, she's a regular village inst.i.tution--everybody knows her and thinks the world of her. She's a plump, jolly, delightful old lady who lives in a delightful old house full of dear, old-fas.h.i.+oned furniture. She keeps a lot of chickens and often sells them and the fresh eggs, and she does a little sewing, and sometimes takes a boarder or two, and goes out nursing occasionally--and oh, I don't know what all! But I know that we couldn't get along at all around here without Aunt Sally.

We'll go down to her house this afternoon and call (I really haven't been to see her since I came down this time), and I'll ask her if she has a nice roasting chicken that I can have. That'll be a perfectly good excuse. And if our polite young lady isn't around, I'll try and get her to talk. Aunt Sally loves to talk, but she isn't a gossip like old Mrs.

Selby, and we'll have to go at it a little more carefully."

They solaced themselves with this thought, and awaited with more than a little impatience the visit that afternoon. Surely Aunt Sally, if any one, would be able to solve some of their mysteries!

By afternoon, the weather had turned warm, almost sultry, and they found Aunt Sally sitting on her front porch, rocking gently and humming to herself over her sewing. She was delighted to see Phyllis again and to make the acquaintance of Leslie, whom Phyllis introduced as her neighbor and very dear friend. When they had chatted about topics of common interest for a while, Phyllis introduced the subject of the chicken.

"Bless your heart, dear!" cried Aunt Sally. "I'm so sorry, but I haven't a roasting chicken just now in the whole yard--nothing but fowls. But I can give you a couple of nice young broilers--and I've plenty of fresh eggs."

Phyllis straightway arranged to have two broilers ready for her when she called for them next day, and skilfully changed the subject.

"Oh, Aunt Sally! do show Leslie those begonias you've been raising all summer. I do think they are the most beautiful things! You certainly are very successful at making things grow!"

Highly flattered, Aunt Sally rose to lead the girls indoors to the sunny room where she kept her plants. While they were admiring them, she asked them to sit down and rest a while and talk--an invitation they accepted with great alacrity. At length, after a detailed account of the health and affairs of her entire family, Phyllis craftily led the conversation back to Aunt Sally herself.

"And are you alone now, Aunt Sally, or is your sister still with you? I heard she was going back to Ohio."

"Yes, she's gone and I'm alone," sighed Aunt Sally; "at least,--I'm not quite alone. I have a boarder at present."

"Oh, _have_ you!" exclaimed Phyllis, guilefully, as if it were all news to her. "Why, that's very nice. I hope the boarder will stay a long while. It will be some company for you."

"Well, I dunno how long she'll stay, and she ain't much company for _me_, I must confess!" admitted Aunt Sally, with a somewhat worried air. "The truth is, I can't exactly make her out."

This was precisely the line that Phyllis wished her to take, yet even now caution must be observed or Aunt Sally might shy away from it.

"Oh, it's a lady then!" remarked the artful Phyllis.

"Well, no, it ain't exactly a lady--it's a young girl 'bout the age of you two, I should guess."

"Still, I don't see why she shouldn't be company for you, even so,"