CHAPTE R 4 BEHIND THE BUSHES
Having read the warning message, Penny whirled around to gaze toward the bushes on the left side of the path. All now was still, with not the slightest movement of leaves to reveal the presence of the one who had shot the arrow.
“It’s that man who talked so unpleasantly to me from the mansion window!” she thought. “Why, he might have struck me with the arrow! I’ll put an end to his target practice!”
Acting impulsively, she made a sudden dive for the bushes, jerking them apart to expose the one who had followed her. No one was there.
The grass, however, was trampled, and some distance away, she heard a scurry of footsteps.
“Trying to get away!” she thought grimly. “Not if I can prevent it! I’ll have it out with him and learn why he’s warning me my life is endangered!”
The footsteps fast were dying away. Listening intently, Penny decided that the person who had shot the arrow was stealing through the bushes toward the river path.
Seeking the intersection of the two paths, the girl stole noiselessly down the cindered trail sloping toward the beach. She had guessed correctly. In a moment she heard an agitation in the bushes nearby and knew that the person she sought was struggling through a tangle of underbrush.
Soon the bushes parted and a thin girl in blue shirt and slacks stepped out onto the cindered path. In one hand she carried an Indian bow with a quiver of arrows, while with the other, she brushed dry leaves from her long, dark hair.
Having expected to see a man, Penny was startled. As she opened her lips to speak, the girl saw her and was brought up short. She gasped in dismay, turned, and with astonishing speed darted down the path leading to the beach.
“Wait!” called Penny.
Keeping her face down, the girl raced on.
Determining that she should not escape without an explanation, Penny gave chase. The runner had an excellent start, but on coming to a series of wooden steps, her heel caught in a small hole. Down she went, and before she could arise, Penny had overtaken her.
Observing that the fall had not injured the girl, she said sternly:
“Now little Miss Robin Hood, will you kindly explain why you tried to exterminate me with that arrow?”
Sitting up, the girl ruefully rubbed an ankle and gazed at Penny with hostile brown eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she retorted. “I had no intention of hitting you. My aim is perfect.”
“Modest, at any rate,” observed Penny, smiling despite a determination to appear very stern. “You did write the warning note?”
“Naturally.”
“Why, may I ask?”
“Because in the first place, you have no business being on our property. Secondly, I didn’t want you to go to the thatched roof cottage.”
“May I ask your name?”
“I’m Lorinda Rhett.”
“Hamilton Rhett’s daughter!”
“Stepdaughter,” the girl corrected.
“You’re just the person I want to see!” exclaimed Penny, overjoyed at her good fortune. “Your stepfather—”
“I’ll answer no questions about him,” the girl interrupted. “You may as well spare your breath. Mother and I want no reporters here.”
“So you know who I am?”
“How could one help knowing? You nearly broke our door down with your pounding, and I heard you talking to Antón.”
“Your servant?”
“My stepfather’s,” Lorinda corrected with a slight inflection which suggested that she did not entirely approve of Antón. “Now will you stop asking questions and go away?”
“All in good time. First, I’m relieved to know that the thatched cottage isn’t really dangerous. You only wrote that to be rid of me.”
Lorinda gave her a long, steady look but said not a word.
“Or perhaps there is some mystery about the cottage,” Penny went on. “After all, your stepfather’s disappearance was very queer. But the police, no doubt, will get at the bottom of it when they come here.”
Lorinda scrambled to her feet. “The police!” she gasped. “We’ll not have them here prying around!”
“Whether or not you like it, I’m afraid you will have the police on your doorstep. A man of Mr. Rhett’s prominence can’t disappear without a few questions being asked.”
Lorinda lost much of her defiance. “But this is our own private affair,” she protested. “My stepfather will return—at least, I think he will.”
“And the missing bonds?”
“Missing bonds?”
“Didn’t Albert Potts, the bank secretary, inform your mother that $250,000 in negotiable securities also had disappeared?”
“Why, no! At least I knew nothing of it! Surely you don’t think my stepfather would stoop to the theft of bank securities?”
“I have no opinion in the matter. I’m merely here to get the true story. For some reason you and your mother have been unwilling to cooperate.”
Lorinda did not reply, but seemed to be thinking deeply.
“Do you have any idea where your stepfather is now?” Penny inquired, hoping that a direct approach might glean information.
“No, of course not.”
“You haven’t seen him for the past ten days?”
“That is true,” Lorinda acknowledged with great reluctance. “But it’s not so unusual. My stepfather frequently goes away on trips.”
“Without telling anyone where he is going?”
“I’ll not answer that question,” Lorinda said with a proud uptilt of her chin.
“I’m afraid you don’t like reporters very well,” observed Penny pleasantly. “Nor do you seem especially fond of your stepfather.”
“That’s not true! I do like my stepfather. Why, he was the one who taught me how to shoot with a bow and arrow! He gave me this bow which is a valuable collector’s item!”
She offered it to Penny who inspected the fine workmanship with keen interest.
“Mr. Rhett is a collector?” she inquired.
“Yes, he’s traveled all over the world, but most of his time was spent in the jungles of Africa, Brazil, and other places in South America. That was before he married Mother, of course.”
“Your stepfather was especially interested in ancient religious cults?”
“He made a study of it, and for a year gathered material by living in the jungle.” Lorinda suddenly broke off, aware that she was warming to Penny and telling her entirely too much.
“Then it was your father who built the thatched roof cottage?”
“Please, let’s not talk about it,” Lorinda pleaded. “I don’t like to be unfriendly or impolite, but you must understand there are things I can’t tell you, and which must never be published.”
Taking the ancient bow from Penny’s hand, the girl started up the path, limping a trifle on her twisted ankle.
“Only one more question, Lorinda. Please tell me the truth. Why were you afraid to have me investigate the thatched roof cottage?”
The girl paused on the path, gazing at Penny quite pathetically.
“Don’t ask me to tell you any more,” she whispered. “The cottage is a place of evil omen. Truly, I did you a favor in warning you away.”
“I saw a painting on the door—that of a winged or plumed serpent. Will you explain its significance?”
“I only know that my stepfather had it painted there when the cottage was built soon after his marriage to my mother. It is a symbol of one of the ancient cults he studied. Many of his trophies bear the same picture.”
The information was a little disappointing to Penny. “Then I suppose the drawing that the police found in Mr. Rhett’s office had no great significance,” she remarked.
“Drawing?”
Penny described the serpent picture which had been found, adding: “On the sheet were written the words: ‘This shall be the end.’”
“You are certain?”
“Oh, yes, I saw the paper myself.”
Lorinda was visibly disturbed. “I must see that writing! It may mean—” she broke off and amended: “Tell me, where is the paper now?”
“The police have it.”
“Oh!”
“Why do you seem to fear the police?” inquired Penny curiously.
“I am not afraid of them—certainly not. It’s just that Mother and I prefer to keep our lives private. Facts can be so easily misinterpreted.”
“Your reluctance to assist the police also can be misinterpreted,” said Penny. “For instance, it seems strange to me that your stepfather’s disappearance doesn’t seem to disturb you.”
“Oh, it does! It’s only—well, there are things I can’t tell you without my mother’s permission. My stepfather is queer. Mother and I never liked his interest in weird cult practices. He had so many strange acquaintances and ties with the past. We always were afraid something dreadful might happen.”
“Then he may have met foul play?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Lorinda said miserably. “A ten-day disappearance is not so serious. My stepfather occasionally went away before without telling us, though never for such a long period. If it weren’t for the paper found in his desk, and the missing bonds, I would say it’s much ado about nothing.”
“As it is—?”
“The loss of $250,000 could be a very serious matter. Tell me, what is your name?”
“Penny Parker.”
“You’re here only to get a story for your paper?”
“That was why I came, but since meeting you I truthfully can say I also am very much interested in helping you if possible.”
“I like you,” Lorinda declared with a quick smile. “I’m sorry about the arrow. And I was very rude.”
“Not at all. I deliberately egged you on, hoping you would tell me about your stepfather. I was sent here to get a picture of him, and I hate to fail.”
“A picture? Mother has one, but I doubt that she would permit you to use it.” Lorinda considered a moment, then added: “Tell you what! I’ll take you to her, and perhaps, if you’re a convincing talker, she’ll agree to your request.”
“Oh, Lorinda, that’s fine!”
The Rhett girl linked arms with Penny as they trudged up the path to the house.
“Don’t count your chickens just yet,” she warned. “Mother doesn’t like reporters. It will be sheer luck if she gives you the picture or any information you can use in the paper.”
