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Updated: May 12, 2025
His silence about the details of his sudden action had made her the prey of her imagination, which had created frightful possibilities. Her favourite theory had been an indiscretion committed by him in some moment of depression and a remorse that had resulted in a marriage with some vile person. But she had been somewhat reassured at seeing him go into the theatre one day in company with Cleo.
Like a narrow ribbon the Point lay on the waters, and the deeper woodlands were evidently unpopular and little traversed, for not even a path greeted the scouts in their rambles. "I wonder why the place is called Weasle Point?" questioned Cleo. "Are we supposed to hunt weasels out here?" "I don't even know what the beast looks like," replied Grace. "Are they bearish or wolfish?"
Morgan was now face to face with the consequences of this attitude he had taken towards existence, though it had been forced on him by his temperament. And they were consequences that were not goodly to look upon. Cleo had gone early to the theatre to go into the accounts and to show everybody she was not in the least disconcerted.
Naturally the girls from their platform on the pier, "looked the prettiest," but the way they flashed their code did not admit of any self consciousness on the score of looks. In a brief interval Grace waved to Louise a message in the True Tred secret code, and this was taken up by Cleo and Margaret who relayed it to Helen and Julia in their positions on the beach.
"Oh, run out and stop that motor Louise," called Cleo. "It has been running half an hour." As the starch making process was being operated in the kitchen, and the machine was out in the laundry, Louise left the former conference to attend to the latter requirement. "Oh my!" shouted Louise, "Come here, it's shooting sparks all over!"
And Grace also recalled the mysterious note pointed out the fact that the writer still held on to the historic piece of rope Grace had left around the figure at the tree, and, just suppose the man should take revenge on Hal! "Oh, goosey!" Cleo replied to her expressed fear. "Don't you suppose a boy scout like Hal can take care of himself!
Jean answering the crying of the gulls and the drums of Fort St. Nicholas. Cléo was dressed in the same clothes she had worn on her escape from the Gaston de Paris. She had borrowed a hat from one of the ladies on board and stockings and other things from another lady; but she still wore round her waist the leather belt with the empty knife sheath.
But he felt he had closed his account with the man, and he would not trouble his brains any more about his motives or meaning. He therefore rose to say good-night to Cleo. She offered them wine, but both men refused, so she smilingly gave her hand again without striving to detain them. Outside, each seemed given up to his own thoughts.
The clouds of bites they seemed to greet the girls with, had been nothing short of an air raid, or bombardment. "Well, let's try it," suggested Cleo. "I don't care as long as I catch one fish, and maybe the new place will be fortified." "I wishes yo' luck!" murmured Zeb.
That she had come from Franklin with Lieutenant Cosgrove was sufficient credential for the privilege of being present during the ceremonial, but it was Grace who talked with her eyes to Cleo, directing her interpretative glances from the pretty little stranger, to the now duly installed second-class scout, her message being, "See that pretty strange girl over there?" and Cleo replying in turn with her glance, "Yes, isn't she pretty?
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