Читать книгу The Secret of Steeple Rocks - Harriet Pyne Grove - Страница 5

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The running girls reached the scene just as Dalton and the girl who had jumped from the horse were picking themselves up and out of some blackberry bushes. Leslie was relieved to see that Dalton was disentangling himself with all his limbs in working order.

“Oh! oh! Didn’t I kill you, falling on you that way? I ought to have known better, but you held up your hands, you know. Say, I could have chosen some bushes that weren’t blackberry bushes, though!”

Somewhat hysterical Leslie thought the young lady, but when she knew her better, she found that this was Peggy Ives’ usual style of conversation.

“Just look a little farther on and you will see why any bushes would do,” said Dalton, pulling a long blackberry branch from her dress and giving her his hand to help her up.

“Say, you are all scratched up, too, and you even had the sense to throw your robe over the bush,—not that it did much good! I’m full of prickles, but I am certainly much obliged!”

By this time the young girl was on her feet, looking questioningly at the girls who had stepped up closely.

“Are you hurt, Dal?” Leslie inquired.

“Not to amount to anything,—a few scratches.”

“And a bump or two,” added the new acquaintance.

“I caught you sideways,” said Dalton, “and only eased your fall. Are you sure that you are whole?”

“Oh, yes. I’m not feeling so good, but neither are you. My name is Peggy Ives.”

“Mine is Dalton Secrest and this is my sister Leslie.”

Leslie, rather ashamed of having asked after her brother’s safety first, held out her hand to Peggy and asked if she could not help get out some of the prickles. Sarita was introduced while they drew out of the bushes and crossed the trail to the edge of the cliff, where there were rocks to make seats for them.

Peggy limped a little and Leslie put an arm around her, finding Peggy a slim little thing, glad of someone to lean upon. Dalton still stood by the blackberry bushes, getting rid of briars, and wiping off the result of some scratches, with a handkerchief which he had found in his bathrobe pocket.

“What became of my horse?” Peggy asked. “Did either of you see it?”

“Yes,” Sarita answered. “He ran on and fell, but he must have picked himself up, for I looked down the road a minute ago and he wasn’t there.”

“I am going to ‘catch it’ at home. Oh, here they come!”

They all looked up the road, in the direction of Steeple Rocks, to see Mr. Ives and a pleasant-looking youth of perhaps Dalton’s age. Both were riding, their horses carefully held in to keep them from stumbling. “Did you get thrown, Peggy?” the boy asked, as Peggy rose and limped out toward them.

“No. I jumped. That boy over there—”

“Never mind, Peggy,” said Mr. Ives impatiently. “Jack says that you bolted into the woods and left him. Where is your horse?”

“I don’t know. This girl says that she saw him roll down the hill, but he isn’t there now. They were ever so kind to me—”

Peggy seemed fated to be interrupted, for Mr. Ives again broke in upon her speech to direct the boy to give Peggy his horse and go down into the village to find the other. “If you can’t find him, go to Bill’s and get a horse to bring you home.”

Peggy was helped upon the other horse, after a vain effort to introduce Mr. Ives to the girls. Dalton had thrown his bathrobe around his shoulders and started for the beach as soon as he had seen the Ives delegation approaching. “I have met them, Peggy,” Mr. Ives had said shortly. “You did not see me bow to them.”

“Neither did we,” said Sarita, a moment after Peggy, looking back with a smile and wave, had ridden away.

“Neither did we what?” asked Leslie.

“See Mr. Ives bow to us.”

“Well, he gave us a look anyway, and maybe he did bow. I didn’t think about it.”

“Scene number two in the Secrest-Ives mellerdramer!” Sarita went on.

Leslie laughed. “What brilliant idea have you now, Sarita? What was scene number one? Mr. Ives’ appearance?”

“Yes. Villain appears, threatens hero. Scene two, villain’s daughter rescued by the hero. Leading lady, star of the movies, yet to be discovered. Perhaps she is the villain’s daughter.”

“She is a nice little thing, isn’t she? I imagine that she is a little younger than we are, but it’s hard to tell. She has a funny streak,—telling Dal that she could have chosen the bushes!”

“I liked her, and Mr. Ives can be just as nice as pie, but he wants to get rid of us, that’s clear, and he doesn’t like it that Dal isn’t more upset and scared about it.”

“Smart girl. That’s what I think, too. But I wouldn’t say that he is really a ‘villain.’ Perhaps he is right. Wouldn’t it be too bad if there was something crooked about the title and Father didn’t know it! The only thing is, I can’t imagine that Father would buy a piece of land without knowing all about it.”

“And your dad a lawyer, too!”

“Exactly. But look at Dal, going in anyhow! The salt water will nearly kill him with those scratches!”

They did not stay in the water long on this first occasion, but they all found it invigorating and Dalton insisted that after the first he did not notice the scratches. “I’m hurrying off now,” he said, after they came out of the water. “I’ll probably have to get the name of the man Father bought the place of from the deed. I wish we’d brought our deed with us. Perhaps Beth will remember it, and I can ask her casually, ‘by the way, Beth, do you remember,’ and so forth?”

“I’ll ask her, and tell you. You’ll not be dressed before we get there.”

“No. Take your time. Don’t hurry Sarita up the cliff and maybe have some accident yourself. Turned out to be Ives’ daughter?”

“Yes, I suppose so, by the way he bossed her, and her name is Peggy Ives. Didn’t you kind of like her?”

“A smart little thing. She screamed just before she jumped; but she was plucky about her bruises. I shouldn’t be surprised but she sprained her ankle. Get acquainted, girls. Perhaps the stern parent will relent toward us.”

“I think I see ourselves calling at Steeple Rocks! You’d better go. You have been invited, you know.”

Dalton laughed and ran on, his bathrobe flapping about his ankles.

But like Peggy, Dalton was not feeling “so good.” He had fairly thought at the impact that his shoulder was broken or dislocated. Then he found, as they picked themselves out of the blackberry briars, that it was not. The cold sea water felt good to it and he gave himself a vigorous rubbing both in and out of the water, not trying to swim out far from shore, a sensible plan in any event, since they did not know the coast here. Now his shoulder ached.

When Leslie came into the little camp, shortly after his own arrival, he called to her. “Any of that liniment, Les, that I use?”

“Yes, Dal. Do you suppose that Beth would go anywhere with you along and no liniment?”

Dalton heard Sarita laugh at this.

“I didn’t know, Leslie,” Dalton returned. “I didn’t expect to play football up here, you know. Please hunt me up the bottle,—that’s a good girl!”

Leslie made no reply, for she was already hunting the liniment. Handing it in through the flap of the tent, she said, “Let me rub your shoulder for you, Dal.”

“Thanks. I’ll do it this time, but it knocks out my going anywhere with my good clothes on. Did you ever see such luck!”

“Don’t worry, Dal. If Mr. Ives really is going to do anything mean, all he would have to do would be to telephone somebody to fix it up and that would get ahead of you anyhow. It is too late to go to-day, seems to me. Get up early to-morrow morning and start.”

“Perhaps I will, but I’ll go to the village and get some means of transportation arranged for.”

Shortly Dalton was out, arrayed in his camp outfit, an old shirt and a sweater covering the aching shoulder. But he looked more dogged than happy as he started down the trail again, and Sarita remarked to Leslie that Dalton was blue.

“I believe that he is more worried over what Mr. Ives said to us than he will say. But I’m not going to worry. Whatever is right will be found out, I hope, and anyhow we are in this lovely country. It wouldn’t cost much to put our things in a truck and go somewhere else, but not on any old land of Mr. Ives’! We could rent a spot near here. But what I’m wondering about is if he has any reason why he wouldn’t want us to stay around. There are other tourists, though, in cottages.”

“But none so near Steeple Rocks, Leslie, or on the bay. Maybe he just wants what he thinks is his own land.”

“Or wants to think it.”

As so often it happens, the day had turned out entirely different from their plans. Instead of target practice the girls chose other pursuits. Elizabeth was absorbed in her first successful sketches. Dalton brought back from the village some fine fish and reported that he had found out how to get to the county seat, where the deed would be recorded. He had found someone at the village who would drive him there.

Elizabeth was not admitted to this news, but after their delicious supper, she officiated as chief nurse in making Dalton comfortable. The other girls had given her the details of the accident.

“It will do no harm to wait a little in seeing about your building, Dalton,” consolingly said Beth, gently rubbing in the liniment. “By morning, though, this will feel better, I am sure.”

“Gee, your hands are soft, Beth. You are as good as Mother used to be!”

“That is about the nicest thing you could say to me, Dal,” returned his sister. “I’ve been a poor substitute, but I have wanted to take her place a little.”

“You are all right, Beth,” said Dalton, with boyish embarrassment over sentiment expressed. “You’ve had to do Father’s job too. Boy, that feels the best yet! Do you know what I’m going to do, Beth?”

“I am no mind-reader, Dal.”

“Well, I’ve decided to put off building or even cutting the trees for a week or two. I’ll fish and poke around in a boat, seeing the place. You and the girls will want to come along sometimes, too. We’ll go out and get you fine views of the shore and beach and all the rocks you want to sketch. And the next fish we eat may be what we have caught. How do you like lobster and shrimps, Beth?”

“I am perishing for some!”

“Here’s the boy that will get them for you!”

Thus Elizabeth accepted the change of plan without being troubled by a knowledge of the cause.