Billie Bradley on Lighthouse Island; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck

by Janet D. Wheeler

  CHAPTER VII

  STRANGE ACTIONS

  Instead of seeming excited, Laura and Vi stared. Vi had not even heardthat Miss Arbuckle had lost an album, and Laura just dimly rememberedBillie's having said something about it.

  But Billie's eyes were shining, and she was all eagerness as she pickedthe old-fashioned volume up and began turning over the pages. She wasthinking of poor Miss Arbuckle's red nose and eyes of that morning and ofhow different the teacher's face would look when she, Billie, returnedthe album.

  "Oh, I'm so glad," she said. "I felt awfully sorry for Miss Arbuckle thismorning."

  "Well, I wish I knew what you were talking about," said Vi plaintively,and Billie briefly told of her meeting with Miss Arbuckle in the morningand of the teacher's grief at losing her precious album.

  "Humph! I don't see anything very precious about it," sniffed Laura."Look--the corners are all worn through."

  "Silly, it doesn't make any difference how old it is," said Vi as theystarted back along the path, Billie holding on tight to the book. "It mayhave pictures in it she wants to save. It may be--what is it they call'em?--an heirloom or something. And Mother says heirlooms are precious."

  "Well, I know one that isn't," said Laura, with a little grimace. "Motherhas a wreath made out of hair of different members of the family. Shesays it's precious, too; but I notice she keeps it in the darkest cornerof the attic."

  "Well, this isn't a hair wreath, it's an album," Billie pointed out. "AndI don't blame Miss Arbuckle for not wanting to lose an album with familypictures in it."

  "But how did she come to lose it there?" asked Laura, as the road couldbe seen dimly through the trees. "The woods seem a funny place. Girls,"and Laura's eyes began to shine excitedly, "it's a mystery!"

  "Oh, dear," sighed Vi plaintively, "there she goes again. Everything hasto be a mystery, whether it is or not."

  "But it is, isn't it?" insisted Laura, turning to Billie for support. "Alady says she has lost an album. In a little while we find that samealbum----"

  "I suppose it's the same," put in Billie, looking at the album as if ithad not occurred to her before that this might not be Miss Arbuckle'salbum, after all.

  "Of course it is, silly," Laura went on impatiently. "It isn't likelythat two people would be foolish enough to lose albums on the same day.If it had been a stick pin now, or a purse----"

  "Yes, yes, go on," Billie interrupted. "You were talking aboutmysteries."

  "Well, it is, isn't it?" demanded Laura, becoming so excited she couldnot talk straight. "What was Miss Arbuckle doing in the woods with heralbum, in the first place?"

  "She might have been looking at it," suggested Vi mildly.

  Billie giggled at the look Laura gave Vi.

  "Yes. But may I ask," said Laura, trying to appear very dignified, "why,if she only wanted to _look_ at the pictures, she couldn't do it someplace else--in her room, for instance?"

  "Goodness, I'm not a detective," said poor Vi. "If you want to ask anyquestions go and ask Miss Arbuckle. I didn't lose the old album."

  Laura gave a sigh of exasperation.

  "A person might as well try to talk to a pair of wooden Indians," shecried, then turned appealingly to Billie. "Don't you think there'ssomething mysterious about it, Billie?"

  "Why, it does seem kind of queer," Billie admitted, adding quickly asLaura was about to turn upon Vi with a whoop of triumph. "But I don'tthink it's very mysterious. Probably Miss Arbuckle just wanted to bealone or something, and so she brought the album out into the woods tolook it over by herself. I like to do it sometimes myself--with a book Imean. Just sneak off where nobody can find me and read and read until Iget so tired I fall asleep."

  "Well, but you can't look at pictures in a shabby old album until youfeel so tired you fall asleep," grumbled Laura, feeling like a cat thathas just had a saucer of rich cream snatched from under its nose. "Yougirls wouldn't know a mystery if you fell over it."

  "Maybe not," admitted Billie good-naturedly, her face brightening as sheadded, contentedly: "But I do know one thing, and that is that MissArbuckle is going to be very glad when she sees this old album again!"

  And she was right. When they reached Three Towers Hall Laura and Vi wentupstairs to the dormitory to wash up and get ready for supper whileBillie stopped at Miss Arbuckle's door, eager to tell her the good newsat once.

  She rapped gently, and, receiving no reply, softly pushed the door open.Miss Arbuckle was standing by the window looking out, and somehow Billieknew, even before the teacher turned around, that she had been cryingagain.

  The tired droop of the shoulders, the air of discouragement--suddenlythere flashed across Billie's mind a different picture, the picture of atall lank man with stooped shoulders and dark, deep-set eyes, looking ather strangely.

  A puzzled little line formed itself across her forehead. Why, shethought, had Miss Arbuckle made her think of the man who called himselfHugo Billings and who lived in a hut in the woods?

  Perhaps because they both seemed so very sad. Yes, that must be it. Thenher face brightened as she felt the bulky album under her arm. Here wassomething that would make Miss Arbuckle smile, at least.

  Billie spoke softly and was taken aback at the suddenness with which MissArbuckle turned upon her, regarding her with startled eyes.

  For a moment teacher and pupil regarded each other. Then slowly apitiful, crooked smile twitched Miss Arbuckle's lips and her hand reachedout gropingly for the back of a chair.

  "Oh, it's--it's you," she stammered, adding with an apologetic smile thatmade her look more natural: "I'm a little nervous to-day--a little upset.What is it, Billie? Why didn't you knock?" The last words were said inMiss Arbuckle's calm, slightly dry voice, and Billie began to feel morenatural herself. She had been frightened when Miss Arbuckle swung aroundupon her.

  "I did," she answered. "Knock, I mean. But you didn't hear me. I foundsomething of yours, Miss Arbuckle." Her eyes fell to the volume she stillcarried under her arm, and Miss Arbuckle, following the direction of hergaze, recognized her album.

  She gave a little choked cry, and her face grew so white that Billie ranto her, fearing she hardly knew what. But she had no need to worry, foralthough fear sometimes kills, joy never does, and in a minute MissArbuckle's eager hands were clutching the volume, her fingers tremblingas they rapidly turned over the leaves.

  "Yes, here they are, here they are," she cried suddenly, and Billie,peeping over her shoulder, looked down at the pictured faces of three ofthe most beautiful children she had ever seen. "My darlings, mydarlings," Miss Arbuckle was saying over and over again. Then suddenlyher head dropped to the open page and her shoulders shook with the sobsthat tore themselves from her.

  Billie turned away and tiptoed across the room, her own eyes wet, but shestopped with her hand on the door.

  "My little children!" Miss Arbuckle cried out sobbingly. "My preciouslittle babies! I couldn't lose your pictures after losing you. They wereall I had left of you, and I couldn't lose them, I couldn't--Icouldn't----"

  Billie opened the door, and, stepping out into the hall, closed it softlyafter her. She brushed her hand across her eyes, for there were tears inthem, and her feet felt shaky as she started up the stairs.

  "Well, I--I never!" she told herself unsteadily. "First she nearly scaresme to death. And then she cries and talks about her children, and saysshe's lost them. Goodness, I shouldn't wonder but that Laura is rightafter all. There certainly is something mighty strange about it."

  And when, a few minutes later, she told the story to her chums theyagreed with her, even Vi.

  "Why, I never heard of such a thing," said the latter, lookinginterested. "You say she seemed frightened when you went in, Billie?"

  "Terribly," answered Billie. "It seemed as if she might faint orsomething."

  "And the children," Laura mused delightedly aloud. "I'm going to find outwho those children are and why they are lost if I die doi
ng it."

  "Now look who she thinks she is," jeered Vi.

  "Who?" asked Laura with interest.

  "The Great Lady Detective," said Vi, and Laura's chest, if one takesBillie's word for it, swelled to about three times its natural size.

  "That's all right," said Laura, in response to the girls' gibes. "I'llget in some clever work, with nothing but a silly old photograph album asa clue, or a motive--oh, well, I don't know just what the album is yet,but an album is worse than commonplace, it is plumb foolish as a centeraround which to work. Oh, ho! Great Lady Detective! Solves most marvelousand intricate mystery with only the slightest of clues, an old photographalbum, to point the way! Oh, ho!"