CHAPTER 13 MISSING FROM THE CHEST

“Mother, how did you learn about the wooden doll?” Lorinda gasped. “And where did you get such a crazy idea that you will weaken and die?”

“I have known it ever since my husband went away.”

“But that’s impossible!” cried Lorinda, fairly beside herself with anxiety. “I’m sure the doll wasn’t in the house until today. Someone is putting these notions in your head! Is it Celeste?”

“Celeste is doing her best to help, but there is nothing she can do,” Mrs. Rhett said sadly.

“Mother, snap out of this! You’re worried about Father and it has made you morbid. Nothing will happen to you. The doll has been destroyed, and in any case, we know it’s only a stupid effigy.”

Dropping her head wearily on the chair back, Mrs. Rhett smiled and said nothing. Closing her eyes, she relaxed for a moment. Penny and Lorinda thought she might be dropping off to sleep, so they moved quietly away.

Mrs. Rhett’s eyes opened then and she said: “Oh, Lorinda!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“There’s something I wish to mention—about my will.”

“Your will?” the girl repeated with distaste. “Why talk about that—now of all times!”

“There may be no better time,” Mrs. Rhett said. “As you know, my will is kept in the safe. It leaves this house and nearly all of my property to Hamilton.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Lorinda pleaded nervously. “At the time you made the will, we decided it was very fair.”

“I thought so then, because you have substantial income in your own name. Hamilton, on the other hand, has nothing—scarcely a penny except his salary at the bank.”

“You were right in leaving money to him, Mother. I never objected.”

“The situation has changed now,” Mrs. Rhett continued. “My husband may never return. If I should die suddenly, the estate would be left to him, but he might not appear to claim it. To my knowledge, he has no relatives. It could all become an awkward legal muddle.”

“You certainly are borrowing trouble, Mother! Father will be found, and everything will be the same as before.”

“I wish I could think so, Lorinda.”

“Forget about the will.”

Mrs. Rhett shook her head. “I think I shall change it. And soon. However, at this moment, I don’t know how I wish to dispose of some of my property. Nearly everything I own is tied up in real estate.”

The woman arose, and remarking that she had a severe headache, started into the house.

“I’ll lie down for a little while,” she murmured. “I feel so weak and tired.”

Lorinda waited until her mother was well beyond hearing. Then she turned to Penny with stricken eyes.

“You heard what she said! She must have learned about that hideous doll from Celeste!”

“But how did Celeste know of it? You told her?”

“Oh, no! But Celeste has a way of knowing everything that goes on in this household. What ought I to do?”

“If I were in your place I would get rid of Celeste and Antón. Send them packing!”

The suggestion seemed almost shocking to Lorinda.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” she answered. “In the first place, my stepfather would be furious if he returned and found them gone. Secondly, I doubt that they would go on my orders. They’re very independent.”

“Then I don’t see what you can do.”

“If only my stepfather were here! Unless he returns soon I’m afraid something dreadful will happen to Mother. Did she look well to you?”

“Well—” Penny hesitated, and then said truthfully: “She seemed pale and listless. But one can understand that, considering what she has been through.”

“I heard her give orders about her food this morning. She told Celeste she would have trays served in her room, and no food is to be cooked with salt.”

“Is that especially significant?”

“My stepfather once told me natives who believe a hex or ouange have been put on them are afraid to eat salted food. The salt is supposed to turn to poison in their bodies!”

Penny would have laughed had the matter not been so serious.

“Lorinda, you’re as superstitious as a little savage!”

“I don’t believe such a thing myself,” the girl denied. “But Mother apparently does. She always was afraid of everything remotely connected with cult practices. She never wanted my stepfather to have books on the subject in the library, yet recently I saw her reading them.”

“You said they disagreed about his interest in ancient cult practices?”

“Yes,” Lorinda admitted. “Otherwise they got on quite well together. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this, but two days before he went away, they had a violent disagreement. Mother wanted to discharge Antón and Celeste, and he refused. Then on the last day my stepfather was seen, Mother went to the bank to talk to him. She never told me what happened there.”

“According to Albert Potts, they had another quarrel.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Lorinda sighed. “And now Mother’s attitude toward Celeste is so changed—she actually clings to her. Oh dear, it’s all so upsetting.”

“You’re trying to take too much upon your shoulders,” Penny said kindly.

Conversation lagged. Lorinda could not throw aside the deep mood of depression which possessed her. Penny knew she no longer had an excuse to linger, yet she was unwilling to leave without asking a few questions about the thatched roof cottage.

“Lorinda, why did you try to keep me from visiting it the other day?” she inquired.

“Well, I didn’t know you then. My stepfather’s trophies all are kept in the cottage, and I didn’t want anyone prying about.”

“Then actually it’s not a place of evil?”

Lorinda hesitated and answered indirectly: “I almost never go to the cottage myself. Once I was badly frightened there—it was nothing—but for a silly reason, I’ve always dreaded going back.”

“You didn’t by chance hear whispering from within the walls?”

Lorinda gave her companion a quick, startled look. “Why do you ask, Penny?”

“Because I visited the cottage yesterday with Salt Sommers. We distinctly heard a voice which seemed to come from the wall itself. When we went outside to investigate, the door slammed shut and locked.”

“It has an automatic catch,” Lorinda explained. “I never heard voices there, but I had a strange feeling when I was in the room—as if the walls had eyes and I was being watched.”

“The cottage always is kept locked?” Penny inquired.

“Yes, my stepfather’s trophies are valuable, and we can’t risk having them stolen. How did you get inside?”

Penny had the grace to blush. “Well, to make a long story short, we went in through the window,” she admitted. “It was a dreadful thing to do, and I’m heartily ashamed.”

“I don’t blame you,” Lorinda laughed. “Naturally you were curious after I tried so hard to keep you away. Would you like to see the cottage again?”

“Indeed, yes!”

“I’ll get the key,” Lorinda offered.

She vanished into the house and was gone so long that Penny wondered what could be delaying the girl. When she finally appeared on the veranda, her face was as dark as a rain cloud.

“The key is gone!” she exclaimed. “It’s always been kept in the top drawer of the dresser in my stepfather’s room. I couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“Perhaps he took it with him that last day he went to the bank,” suggested Penny.

“Possibly,” agreed Lorinda, though without conviction. “I hope nothing has been stolen from the cottage.”

Alarmed at being unable to find the key, the girls walked hurriedly along the wooded path to the trophy house. From afar, Lorinda saw that the door was open a tiny crack.

“Either the place has been ransacked, or someone is there now!” she declared excitedly.

They approached swiftly but with noiseless tread. Lorinda suddenly flung open the cottage door.

The room was deserted. Trophies were exactly as Penny had seen them the previous day.

“That’s funny,” Lorinda commented, entering, “I was certain I’d find someone here. Perhaps you and your friend failed to lock the door after you left yesterday.”

“It locked itself. We tried it, and couldn’t get in. Anyway, even if we had left the door open, that still leaves the question of what became of the missing key.”

Lorinda nodded thoughtfully as her gaze swept the room.

“Everything seems to be here,” she remarked.

“What does the chest contain?” Penny inquired curiously. “Salt and I wanted to peek inside yesterday, but didn’t have a chance.”

“I’ll show you,” Lorinda offered.

Pulling out the chest, she raised the lid. The top compartment tray was empty. Looking a trifle puzzled, Lorinda jerked it from the wooden container. The lower section of the chest also was empty.

“Why, everything is gone!” she cried. “My stepfather kept an altar cloth, a feathered head dress, two carved knives, several rattles, and I don’t know what all in this chest! They’ve been stolen!”