Missing at Marshlands Part 27

Again they anch.o.r.ed, but this time they had picked a poor location and caught nothing. Inspection through the gla.s.s still revealed no sign of life about the place. It appeared silent and deserted.

"I think we can chance going a bit closer," said Emma Tash after another half hour. "If I don't see anything then, I believe I'll take a chance and land. I'll walk up to the place. Melissa may be asleep in there."

"I hardly think so," said Terry. "But you can try."

They hoisted the anchor again, moved nearer the place, and once more the gla.s.s was used.

"I can't see a sign of anybody," Emma Tash declared. "I'm going up there."

Once more Terry pulled up the mud-hook, and again the oars were used by the detective. But just as she was easing up, in preparation to letting the boat glide up the mucky beach, a man's voice called:

"Keep away from here! I don't let n.o.body land!"

George Clayton suddenly appeared in front of his shack, holding a long pole.

"Get away!" he cried. "This is a private beach! You can crab all you want to out there, but don't land. I've warned you!"

"Well, that's that," said Terry in a low voice. She held her head down.

In spite of the fact that she was wearing a big straw hat, she feared the man might recognize her.

But Emma Tash did not give up so easily.

"Can't we land and get a drink of water?" she called.

"No! Keep off!"

"Very well."

There was nothing for it but to row away, and this they did.

"But I'm not giving up," said the detective when they were on their way back to "Buckingham Palace." Terry wondered if Serge were there. "I'll go back to New York and suggest a different method," Emma Tash said. "The girl's aunt is anxious to do something for the child, and her brute of a father shouldn't be allowed to stand in the way."

"Of course not," Terry agreed.

She rowed fast back to the little dock, and her first unasked question was answered, as Sim and Arden who came down to meet her, with Arden's remark:

"He hasn't arrived yet."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't miss him," Terry said.

Emma Tash changed back into her regular dress, put the crabbing disguise into her bag and, thanking them all for the help, started for the village, saying she would take a train back to New York.

"But I'm coming here again," she said. "And if you get a chance I wish you would let Melissa know that her aunt wants to help her."

"We will," Terry promised.

It was now late afternoon, and the girls, nervous with the tension, sat on the porch, waiting. Not for anything would they now go far away from the house. The "man from New York" might arrive any minute.

"Oh, dear," Sim wailed. "Isn't this suspense awful? If that man doesn't come soon, I'll--"

"It's almost five o'clock," Arden said, looking at her watch. "He ought to get here soon."

"You youngsters will be nervous wrecks," Mrs. Landry remarked as Terry paced restlessly up and down the front porch. "Can't you find something to do?"

"I can't sit still long enough to do anything," Terry replied.

"Listen!" Arden cautioned. "Isn't that a car?"

Instantly there was quiet. They all strained their ears to hear the sound of b.u.mping wheels.

"Yes!" Terry exclaimed. "Come on!"

Flinging open the screen door of the porch she raced around to the back, where the yellow sand road stretched. Sim and Arden followed close behind her.

They stood like pointers, immobile, while the car approached. It reached the gate and stopped. The side door was opened, and a polished shoe was thrust out. Then the whole man appeared, and the girls gasped audibly. It was the dark young man who had rowed himself over to the houseboat when they last heard from Dimitri!

CHAPTER XXV The Man in the Marsh

"Then it was you!" Arden burst out impulsively as she saw him.

"I beg your pardon?" the young man replied, somewhat puzzled. "I am Serge Uzlov. I received a telegram this morning which brought me down here. Did you--?"

"I sent it," Arden replied. "We guessed at your address and sent it because we thought you might know something about Dimitri."

"Know something-about my own brother? I'm afraid I don't understand." He looked from one to the other of the girls, his face showing wonderment and some fear.

"Of course, how could you?" Terry remarked. "Please come up on the porch, and we'll explain."

There, while he sipped a cool drink Sim got for him, Serge Uzlov heard the queer story of Dimitri's disappearance.

"So you see," Arden went on, "we got worried and took a chance on the telegram."

"It was a very lucky chance, as it turned out," Serge agreed. "I cannot imagine what could become of Dimitri. He's a lonely fellow, yes. But he always keeps in touch with me. I had a long talk with him when I was down before, and he seemed in good health and the best of spirits."

"He didn't say anything about going away, then?" Arden asked.

"Not a word. In fact, he told me how much he liked it down here," the young man went on. "Could we not go over to the boat? I am anxious to look around."

"Yes, we can go over at once," Arden replied. "We shall go by boat, it is quicker."

They all got into the faithful little rowboat, and the young man took the oars. He could row with quite some skill, being an athletic type. His tanned face showed he was no stranger to outdoor life. Arden looked searchingly at him. Just what did he know?

Sim and Terry were curious, too. They were suspicious of everyone now.

The fact that this man claimed to be the brother of Dimitri proved nothing.