The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  “Do you suppose that Mr. Tudor will do anything?” asked Beth, very much interested.

  “I don’t know. He said that he would talk to Dalton and to you. I’d say wait till they get here, anyhow. We surely are going to watch for that schooner, Beth—but not tonight!”

  On the very next day another young man arrived at Evan Tudor’s camp. Largely for Bill’s benefit, a heavy package marked manuscript was mailed by Mr. Tudor from the village post office. When Tom arrived that day with the regular supply of fish, he was told that he might make his report in the presence of the other young man. He did so, showing some money that Bill had paid him for the trip, a sum which Tom had inwardly hesitated to take, feeling like a traitor. He spoke of his feeling in the matter, but Mr. Tudor assured him that he must seem to be a part of the smuggler group. “You may even have to be arrested with the rest, though if there is any resisting, get out of range! Can you meet that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Our people will be instructed about you, and you have only to tell who you are. I’m not anticipating any war. Things are coming to a climax now. Have you any information about the schooner that is bringing in the immigrants?”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Ives is out with the yacht now. He is expecting to take them off the schooner some distance out, but the yacht has trouble with the engine and they may have to dock her. In that case they’ll bring what Bill calls the big bugs to the yacht, by the launch, of course, and take the rest into the cave till they can get them ‘distributed.’ That is what Mr. Ives calls it. I saw him. He came in to Bill’s on the launch, about ten o’clock last night.”

  Mr. Tudor had also seen him, but he did not mention the fact to Tom. “Does Mr. Ives know that you are in this with Bill?”

  “Yes, sir. He asked me questions and gave me a ten dollar bill. I feel like a Judas.”

  “Remember what he is and you will not feel so. You can give the money back later, if you like.”

  The more puzzling part of this matter to Mr. Tudor was to make no mistake about having the government officers and men on hand at the right time. With careful scouts out on land and sea to guard against surprise when the schooner actually arrived, Mr. Ives and Bill would be thoroughly informed about any suspicious movements. But an innocent looking hunting and fishing party had just arrived at a camp a few miles away, and a few miles down the coast a small passenger vessel had put in, apparently for repairs. A regular coast guard steamer had passed as well and had duly been reported to Bill and Mr. Ives, who were feeling none too easy about this next cargo of aliens to be smuggled in. But thousands of dollars were already in their pockets and they expected to make as much again.

  Patriotism? Bill had been smuggled in himself years before, and Mr. Ives often told his wife that he owed nothing to Uncle Sam or the flag. He was a brilliant scoundrel, thoroughly selfish and of the type that enjoys intrigue and power. The Count had been embittered by the results of the world war and was glad to do what he could against the country and its laws. Some of the alien immigrants themselves were to be pitied, though they were lending themselves to this scheme. Many of them were caught in some unhappy circumstances at home and cared nothing for governments, only for a refuge.

  Others were of the dangerous class of communists that were willing to pay and pay heavily for the chance to spread their doctrines in a country that wanted none of them. Then there were the ignorant ones, of “low degree,” who believed almost anything that they were told of the chances in America. They were to be largely Bill’s prey, robbed of their savings and forced to work for him if he chose. That was the “fine opportunity” waiting for them in America!

  The new man with Mr. Tudor carried the messages now, at night, for it was no longer best to telegraph from the nearest town. After the sending of the manuscript, the two men now spent long hours in fishing or in tramping about after the manner of tourists. They took notes in prominent places, to carry out the idea of their profession, and, indeed, both of them were correspondents for certain papers. Mr. Tudor told Beth that his “best seller” could more easily be a detective story than anything else.

  Dalton was admitted to councils now, but he was more anxious to get on with the house than to do any detective work. The chief benefit to him was the knowledge that someone else was watching Bill and Mr. Ives. His family was safe without his being on guard any longer. Like magic, Leslie said, the house went up and it was decided to finish it within and without for cold weather. They would at least have what Sarita called a “proper home” and if they wanted to stay through part of the cold weather they could.

  At night watch was kept in the Eyrie, as they had planned, for now it was but a short time till the schooner was due. On the twenty-sixth the Ives yacht came into the bay and men were sent for to fix some part of the machinery. Mr. Ives, “cross as two sticks,” according to Peggy, appeared at his home and had long consultations with the Count. At other times he could be heard pacing up and down in his office. “He has something on hand that worries him terribly, Peggy,” Mrs. Ives told her daughter, “and just at the time of the house party, too! He says that perhaps the yacht will not be ready in time to go for them, but that if it isn’t he will get them here some other way.”

  Peggy did not confide this to the other girls. She had stopped talking about the matter. It was not fun any more. They missed her at the Eyrie, for while Jack came as usual, still interested in the house and Dalton, and still wanting to confide in Leslie the matters of the Steeple Rocks mystery, now a mystery no longer, Peggy tried to seem interested in her clothes and the plans for the house party. Would it come off? Would Mr. Tudor tell? He didn’t talk as if he would right away. What ought she to do about telling her mother?

  Peggy’s mind was somewhat in confusion. The servants were quiet, inclined to watch Peggy, she imagined. It would have been hard to find opportunity for the secret talk with her mother which she rather longed for sometimes. She and Jack did not attempt to discuss the matter and Mr. Ives asked Jack to drop his “carpenter work” at the Eyrie. Once, while they were playing tennis, Jack muttered to Peggy, “No use, can’t do a thing now, Peggy. We’ll just wait.”

  A very pleasant thing happened at the Secrest camp in the shape of a surprise for Sarita. Through Mr. Tudor, Tom Carey sent her a package in which was her lost glass. Tom had recovered it that very night after it had fallen into the water, by swimming from his boat and diving where it seemed safe. The glass had lodged upon a rock not far from the surface, he discovered, and while its appearance was spoiled, the lenses were not broken.

  Keeping the recovery a secret from Bill, Tom had made a trip to town and had the field glass put in shape again, with new covering. A little note explained the facts and Sarita was quite overcome, almost sorry that Tom had gone to the expense but admiring his spirit. “Oh, the poor boy!” she exclaimed.

  “He paid for it with Bill’s money, though,” said the smiling Mr. Tudor, in whose presence Sarita had opened the package, “and as he is making a little more than usual, you need not worry about Tom. I will explain in a few days, Miss Sarita. It comes just in time for good service.”

  Meanwhile the net was being drawn more tightly. It was desired to take the Count and Mr. Ives after their connection with the smuggling was further proved by the presence of the aliens illegitimately brought in in the Ives home or upon the Ives yacht. On land and by sea the arrival of the schooner was awaited.

  CHAPTER XIX

  SAILS ON THE HORIZON

  On the night of the twenty-seventh, Leslie Secrest and Sarita Moore were sitting in the Sea Crest to talk. Gently the boat rocked a little in the lapping water of their little cove. Beth and Dalton were above in the Eyrie, where they had a spyglass, not one belonging to Peggy, but one which Dalton had procured. “It would be a fine thing, wouldn’t it,” he asked, “to hunt down Peggy’s step-father with a glass that he will probably pay for?”

  Idly Leslie dipped her hand in the water. “Let’s go over after Peggy,�
� Sarita suggested. “Lots of boats are out yet, and the sunset isn’t over. See what entrancing shades there are. Beth is probably copying those over there in the east. Too bad the sun itself isn’t in that direction!”

  Without a word, Leslie sprang into action. “I see a few twinkles of stars coming out, but it isn’t too late,” she said. They were soon out upon the bay, Sarita waving a farewell to Beth, who had walked out upon the rocks. Before they had gone far toward the channel, by which they would reach Peggy’s, to their surprise, the Ives yacht gave forth a deep and sonorous sound.

  “Listen to Peggy’s yacht tooting!” cried Sarita. “Look out, Les. Let’s keep out of the way.”

  The yacht, indeed, was moving out; but as there was but one straight course for it out of the bay, Leslie was not concerned. She drove the Sea Crest in another direction, and circled around, as they often did. To their surprise again, there was Peggy herself, waving from the deck.

  Leslie chose to follow in the wake of the yacht, which drew farther and farther away from them, and finally turned north along the coast, disappearing from view. It had not been Leslie’s intention, to be sure, to go out into the open sea very far, but she saw Mr. Tudor and his friend in another launch no bigger than the Sea Crest and she found the sea very little rougher than the bay. “It will be fairly light for more than an hour, Sarita, let’s stay out a while.”

  Sarita was willing, and they turned the little Sea Crest toward the open sea and sped on. Suddenly, upon the horizon, a lovely sight greeted their eyes. There hung a large schooner as if suspended from the clouds. It was in full sail, the last pink and lavender of the sunset imparting a tinge of color to the swelling sails.

  “How lovely!” exclaimed Leslie. “Is it a fishing schooner, or the schooner, I wonder?”

  “It might be either, or both,” laughed Sarita. “How odd! It’s simply fading from view! See, it’s turned, too.”

  The girls watched the schooner till they could see it no more. Then Leslie turned the launch and ran straight for the bay. “Do you suppose that it is the schooner and that the yacht has gone to meet it now? They certainly would not take Peggy and Mrs. Ives, would they? How terrible it would be if they were boarded out there and Peggy would be in the midst of it!”

  But as they came on, they saw Mrs. Ives and Peggy in a launch run by no less a personage than Bill himself. Peggy said something to Bill, who ran the launch within speaking distance while she called, “Engine stopped and we had to signal for help. Dad and the Count may have to stay there all night!” Peggy’s face was bright. There was much else that she wanted to tell the girls, but Bill wouldn’t want to wait, she knew.

  After nodding brightly to Peggy, Leslie and Sarita looked at each other. “Camouflage,” said Leslie. “They meant to send them back all the time. Their engine is all right and that’s the schooner! Bill will go out with the launch, of course, taking the plumber!”

  “Plumber!” laughed Sarita.

  “Well, isn’t that whom you send for when anything is out of fix?” Quick-witted Leslie’s imagination was right, as it happened. Sending on her boat at full speed, she felt very much relieved to think that Peggy would be safely at home. “I’d pay five cents,” she added, “to know if Mr. Tudor is taking this in.”

  As that was Mr. Tudor’s chief business at this time, he was not ignorant of all the moves. Like Leslie, however, he was going in to shore. The schooner would be taken care of at the proper time by others. He knew who was on the yacht and where it lay. He was not so impatient as the girls, for he knew what it all involved. The denouement might be dramatic. He hoped that it would be neither dangerous nor fatal to anyone. No move at all was to be made until the alien passengers were transferred from the schooner. Bill’s scouts were then to be quietly seized, in order that no signal might be given the yacht, though even then the chase upon the open sea would probably be successful. Tom Carey was of great help in learning who these scouts were.

  Again that night, like a wraith from the sea, the schooner was seen. Leslie in the Eyrie, where poor Dalton was trying to keep awake after his day of physical labor, found it with the spy-glass and exclaimed. The rest sprang up to look, and while they still tried to distinguish the vessel, whose lights had apparently been extinguished, there was a knock at the door. “It’s Tudor,” spoke a voice.

  “Come right in.” Dalton hastened to open the door for Mr. Tudor, who was not quite as calm as usual.

  “Good evening, friends. Have you seen the schooner?”

  “We have just been looking at it,” said Beth, offering the glass to Evan, who looked for some time.

  “It is flying here and there, like a bird trying to reach its nest and avoid the owl that is watching. Ostensibly it has fishing grounds in the vicinity. Perhaps it was a mistake to have our boat pass again, but it is not investigating. The Ives yacht is lying off the coast with some broken machinery, they say. Bill has just brought off the Count and Mr. Ives.

  “It will probably be to-morrow night when the schooner unloads. Our boat is leaving just a little before dawn, to assure them that they are not to be searched, and also to prevent their unloading tonight. I believe that our ship is to hail the schooner, appear to be satisfied with inquiry and steam away. Our boat is not very large—but there is another, not too far out at sea.

  “Circumstances often determine what it is best to do. I thought that you would like to know what is going on. I am going to take a sleep now, my friend on guard. If I were you, I should sleep, too.”

  After this explanation, Mr. Tudor took his leave. The rather serious Secrest group decided to take his advice. The girls were soon asleep in the Eyrie with their door barred, though Leslie wakened before daylight to lie and think about Peggy.

  Peggy herself had many thoughts on the morning of the twenty-eighth. She did not know that the schooner had arrived, but that was the date of the house party. Mr. Ives was still nervous but in better poise, giving orders in regard to certain provisions for the guests. Mrs. Ives was mistress of herself and the situation, for her house was ready, the menus made out with the housekeeper.

  Never had Peggy had such a problem to face. She could not bring herself to inform authority against her step-father, and in her indecision she was ready to see who came, what sort of people they were and whether it were really Mr. Ives who was the real smuggler or not. Perhaps he could be persuaded to give it all up, she thought. Mr. Tudor’s knowing worried her. She now felt persuaded that he had been investigating, though she hoped that she was only imagining it.

  It was out of Peggy’s hands, however. If the girls had never started to find a mystery out for themselves, the result would have been the same.

  Before midnight men were hidden in the pirates’ cave, for Tom had fortunately been appointed watch there. Whether tide and hour would permit entrance by water or by plank and the door, they were ready. Tom Carey could tell them little this time, for plans were known only to Bill. The rest followed his orders.

  One government boat was to take the yacht, another was to follow the schooner, and lest slippery Bill should escape in the launch, provision was made for that. It was hoped that the entire number of aliens, high and low, might be transferred to the yacht first because of its size. No interference was to be made until after that occurred. Mr. Tudortold Elizabeth that the smugglers were doubtless hoping for fog to conceal their activities.

  The first excitement at the Eyrie occurred about ten o’clock that night, when Dalton, uneasy, sauntered down to their cove and discovered the Sea Crest foundered, not in very deep water to be sure, but it was an unwelcome calamity. The Swallow was floating, but Dalton examined it to find that someone had begun to cut a hole in it. “My coming probably frightened the man away,” Dalton reported at the Eyrie. “They do not want the Sea Crest abroad tonight.”

  It did grow somewhat foggy, though not enough so to annoy what boats were out upon the bay. Long since the “engine trouble” of the yacht had been overcome and it had steamed
away, up the coast and out of sight. Now, shortly after midnight it appeared, regardless of who might see it, well lighted, its pennants waving in honor of distinguished guests. It approached the bay, at full speed and cutting the waves valiantly.

  CHAPTER XX

  CAPTURE

  Peggy and Jack, at Steeple Rocks, had gone to watch for the yacht at the tops of the steps which ran down to the dock where the yacht was expected. At the sight of it, Jack waited, but Peggy hurried in to announce the arrival. Mrs. Ives and Madame Kravetz were sitting in the drawing room, while Timmons, the butler, was in the hall.

  “The yacht is coming,” said Peggy in her clear voice, “all lit up and everything. It just passed another vessel, and it’s coming into the bay! Shall I tell Jack to light the lights outside?”

  “Timmons will do it. Timmons, rouse the maids if they are drowsy.” But Mrs. Ives wondered at the alarmed expression on the face of the butler, and that Madame Kravetz went outside immediately. Mr. Ives and the Count had gone out to the yacht in the morning, ostensibly to go to the port where he was to meet his guests. Some train must have been late to delay them this long, or perhaps the engines had not worked properly. It was all decidedly queer. She looked at Peggy.

  “What’s the matter with ’em?” bluntly asked Peggy.

  “I am sure I do not know, unless Timmons fears things may not go as they should.”

  The bay was a trap. No sooner had the yacht gotten well into it than the passing vessel, manned by government men to catch both aliens and smugglers, turned about and rapidly sought the mouth of the bay. The pursuit was short, as Mr. Ives and Count Herschfeld, on board the yacht knew it must be. Hastily the word was passed around among the more important passengers, who were panic-stricken, facing deportation, having many jewels which they were smuggling in.