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"You are all right?" "'Course!" But she was crying. "Don't try to talk, Val. You must be quiet." He heard someone moving toward them but he kept his eyes on Ricky's face. "We did it!" "Yes," she answered slowly, "we did it." "Val, don't try to talk." Rupert's face showed above Ricky's hunched shoulder. There was an odd, strained look about his mouth, a smear of mud across his cheek.
"I've never seen anything like this before." She turned it around. "It seems to be woven of some awfully fine grass " "That's swamp work." Charity was peering over Ricky's shoulder. "Open it." Inside on a nest of raw wild cotton lay a bracelet of polished wood carved with an odd design of curling lines which reminded Val of Spanish moss. And with the circlet was a small purse of scaled hide.
"No," Ricky's voice sounded aggrieved, "he's too busy having secrets " "Hmm," Rupert murmured, more interested in his letter than in the conversation. "The trouble is that we are not Chinese bandits, Malay pirates, or Arab freebooters. We don't possess color, life, enough enough "
It was very unfair in Peggy to speak in this way concerning one of the other girls. Keineth did not suspect that perhaps a little jealousy prompted Peggy's ungraciousness. This little cloud was to grow over the whole camp. And in the second week Ricky's girls learned a lesson of greater value to them than all the scoutcraft they loved.
It was after ten before Val came downstairs crab-fashion, wiping off each step behind him as he came with one of Ricky's three dust-cloths. He paused on the landing to pull back the tapestry curtain and open the windows above the alcove seat, letting in the freshness of the morning to rout some of the dank chill of the hall. Kneeling there, he watched Rupert come around the house.
"Or am I thinking of the Whiting who talked to the Snail?" "Perhaps I had better begin at the beginning," continued Creighton, frowning at Holmes who refused to be so suppressed. "Why be so dramatic about it, old man? It's very simple, Miss Ricky. Creighton has lost an author and he wants you to help find him." When Ricky's eyes involuntarily swept about the room, Val joined in the laughter.
Ricky's breath was warm on Val's cheek and she moved with a faint crackling of her cape which sounded as loud as a thunderclap in his ears. "How're we gonna do it without bustin' the wall down?" demanded an aggrieved voice from the top of the stairs. "There ain't no knob, no handle, no nothin' to work it from this side.
I will not have him walking on the beds with muddy feet. There's enough to do here without cleaning up after a lazy cat. Where's Rupert?" Her brother put aside his note-book and got up from the couch with a lazy stretch. Ricky's early-morning energy was apt to be a little irksome and Val had not had a good night.
But the long table, the high-backed chairs, the side serving-table, and the two tall cabinets of china were fine enough pieces if one cared for the massive. Ricky's table-cloth of violent-hued peasant linen was not in keeping with the china and glassware Letty-Lou had set out upon it. Charity was commenting upon this ensemble as Val entered.
The little lawyer nodded complacently. "Yes, Lucy will take care of you. She is a master housekeeper and cook ah!" His eyes rolled upward. "And Mr. Ralestone, how is he?" "All right. He's going over the farm with Sam this afternoon. We were sent in his place to give you the papers he spoke to you about." At Ricky's answer, Val held out the envelope he had carried.
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