CHAPTER IV.

THE SECRET SOCIETY.
A dinner the same evening Dr. Naismith was informed of Nora’s story about a burglar having been in the house, and of our search in the study. .
“But you found the money all right?” he asked his wife, when she had finished speaking.
“Yes; four five-pound notes and one ten. You told me you had drawn thirty pounds.”
“Yes, that is right; and a burglar would hardly have left such a haul if he had been in the room. Bouncer, too, would have barked and warned us. Do you not think you must have dreamt it all, Nora ?”
“No, father, I didn’t; at least, in the morning I was quite sure it wasn’t a dream, but in daylight it seems so different and far away. And then Hum- phrey saw Win Kee.”
THE SECRET SOCIETY. 49
“Yes, but that seems to have been some time after you heard the noises you speak of; and remember he was then coming toward the house. In that dim light Humphrey admits he could not be quite certain of identifying Colonel Leighton’s servant, and it would be unreasonable to accuse him on such slight evidence.—By-the-bye,” he continued, turning to his wife, “did you leave the money in my desk ?”’
“Yes, dear; I locked the drawer the notes were in —the second top on the right—and put the key on your dressing-table.”
“The second top on the right? Are you sure? I always keep my cash and bank book in the top drawer on the left.”
“Quite sure,” repeated Mrs. Naismith. “The chil- dren were with me at the time.”
We corroborated her statement; and remarking that he must have been mistaken, and that so long as the money was safe it didn’t matter, Dr. Naismith turned to us and inquired how we had passed the _ afternoon. ~ Frank launched into a graphic description of our visit to the village and subsequent expedition to the station, winding up with an account of our meeting
with Win Kee and his strange behaviour. (1,471) 4
50 THE SECRET SOCIETY.
“Tt was curious, certainly,” remarked his father thoughtfully ; “but allowance must be made for the fact that he is an Oriental. They look at things from a different point of view, remember.—I had forgotten you could speak Malay,” he added, turning to me.
“T really know very little now,” I replied; “it is several years since I came to England.”
“ Have you heard lately from your father? Dear me! it seems but yesterday that he and I were at school together, and now he is well up in the Govern- ment service. Your mother’s death must have made a great difference to him.”
“He is very quiet and sad now, and his hair is ’ quite gray. JI do not remember my mother at all; she died when I was quite little.”
“Poor boy!” said Mrs. Naismith softly, and a sharp kick under the table assured me of Nora’s sympathy.
“Now I think of it,’ went on Dr. Naismith reflect- ively, “you must have been out in the East at the same time as Colonel. Leighton, Frank has told you about him, I suppose ?”’
“Yes, but I don’t remember him at all. You see we lived up country, in the Malay States, and it is
THE SECRET SOCIETY. 51
only recently—since I came home—that father has gone to live in Singapore.” “Well, well, I must write and tell my old friend
whai a big fellow you are growing. I am sure the
sea air here will do you good; you are getting quite
sunburnt already. My wife has written to ask your
aunt if you may spend the whole of your holidays with us.”
“Tt is very kind of you indeed, and I should enjoy it awfully,” I stammered, for the idea of leaving the
_ country and spending most of the summer mewed up
in London was not exhilarating. “Hurrah!” shouted Frank, upsetting his tumbler ;
“then we'll have plenty of time to form the society
and make things hum.”
“What society ?”’ asked Mrs. Naismith, with a puzzled expression.
“Oh, just a society—a society, you know,” replied
Frank, confusedly mopping up the water with his
napkin. Dr. Naismith laughed. “The society you should
form is the Society for the Prevention of Getting
into Mischief! And now be off and have a scamper,
and then to sleep. Early to bed, early to rise, you
- know.”’
52 THE SECRET SOCIETY.
The first week of the holidays passed like a flash so happy and fully occupied were the days. We fished, bathed, bicycled, and picnicked to our hearts’ content and our very obvious physical benefit. I never happened to come across Colonel Leighton, and had almost forgotten Win Kee and the ghosts at the castle. But suddenly the spell of fine weather broke, and one morning we woke to find the sea blotted from sight by a drizzling rain which poured down persistently.
“You must make up your minds for a wet day,
>
children,” remarked Dr. Naismith, as he tapped the barometer in the hall after breakfast. “The glass is still falling, and until the wind changes from the east there is little prospect of an improvement. The farmers will be thankful for this rain.” Saying good- bye to his wife, he pulled on his waterproof, and drove off to visit his patients as cheerfully as though the sun shone brightly.
“ Bother the farmers!” growled Frank; “they’re always complaining about something, and wanting rain, Selfish beggars I call them.”
“And who would be the first to grumble if the crops failed, and there was not enough bread to eat?”
asked his mother smilingly. “You have had a lot of
!
THE SECRET SOCIETY. 53
fine days out of doors, and must just make the best of this wet weather. JI am sure there must be a lot of books in the library you have not yet read.”
“Oh yes; but it’s poor fun not getting out.”
“Well, perhaps later on you can put on your waterproofs and do the messages for me in the village.”
So with this promise we made our way to the library and selected books. Nora chose “The Mutiny of the Bounty,” and I was soon absorbed in “The White Company ;”’ but Frank seemed unable to find one to his taste, and after pulling out a lot and re- placing them haphazard, upside down, he banged out of the room. Absorbed in my book, the minutes flew by, and it seemed no time till Mrs. Naismith was heard calling to Nora, who, on her return to the library, announced that she had received the messages, and was going down to the village. I volunteered to accompany her. We shouted to Frank, telling him we were ready; but getting no reply, Mrs. Naismith advised us to start without him.
“No doubt he would have answered if he wished to go,” she said.
So Nora and I set off in the soft rain by ourselves,
and once the village was reached I grew bewildered
54 THE SECRET SOCIETY.
at the rapidity with which my arms became loaded with parcels. Nora's memory surprised me; it was extraordinary. I might have remembered the fowl and the eggs, and. perhaps the butter; but the vege- tables, baking soda, sewing cotton, and various other items would certainly have been forgotten.
“There,’ sighed my companion at last, carefully balancing a large blue paper bag on top of the pile of parcels I was already carrying—‘“there! that’s cooking sugar for making toffee this afternoon. Mother said I might get some. Isn’t she ripping ? It’s awfully good of you to carry everything ; do you mind? Frank won’t carry anything when he comes with me.”
I protested it was quite a pleasure, though I felt my fingers making their way into something soft, which I guessed to be butter. We had almost reached the top of the hill leading out of Peddlington when Nora turned to me abruptly and asked a question.
“You told mother the night you came that Frank had won the English prize?”
“ Ye—es,”
“But how could he? he can’t spell even.”
“Oh,” I answered vaguely, “it wasn’t that kind of English,”
THE SECRET SOCIETY. 55
“What kind was it then?”
“History and recitations and—and—all that sort of thing.”
“Frank never could remember dates, and he hates poetry. Besides, he seemed to have forgotten about it;” and she looked at me searchingly. J knew my face was growing red, and would have felt more comfortable and at ease with my hands in my pockets, but these wretched parcels prevented that. Nora continued her cross-examination relentlessly.
‘“‘ How many boys are there in his English class?”
‘“« Three.”
‘Who are they ?”
“ Frank and Bullen and Taylor.”
“But Taylor went away last term; Frank wrote and told us.”
“Yes,” I admitted, dropping a parcel to divert attention.
“Stupid,” cried Nora, lifting it out of the mud and replacing it. ‘‘ And what became of Bullen?”
“Became of him?” I repeated in desperation; “why should you suppose—”
“Tell me!”
“Well,” I admitted reluctantly, driven to bay, “he took ill.”
56 THE SECRET SOCIETY.
“T knew there was something queer about it,” said Nora triumphantly, “from the way Frank looked at you when you told mother.”
“You won’t say anything?” I pleaded.
“Of course not. J don’t sneak,’ she retorted in a tone that made me regret my admissions. Really it was hardly fair, and I dug my fingers into the butter by way of relieving my feelings. After this little tiff Nora walked in front of me all the way home, and I followed meekly behind, as though in disgrace. Mrs. Naismith met us at the door.
“OQ Nora,” she exclaimed, ‘‘ why did you make Humphrey carry all the parcels? They must have been very troublesome—and look at the butter!”
‘Well, mother, it was his own fault. He said he liked it, and so I let him alone.” With a saucy toss of her head Nora passed into the house, and I found myself confirming her statement, much to my own amazement.
Frank reappeared at lunch-time, and in answer to his mother’s questions stated that he had spent the morning writing.
“Do you mean writing letters?” she asked in some surprise. |
‘“ Well—no—not exactly,” was his vague reply ;
THE SECRET SOCIETY. 57
and seeing that he was unwilling to say more, Mrs. Naismith did not press him further. The rain was coming down more heavily than ever, and when our meal was finished we adjourned to the schoolroom to make toffee and amuse ourselves as best we might, while Mrs. Naismith went to the library to finish her correspondence.
Nora installed herself immediately as head-cook ; I was appointed kitchenmaid; while Frank looked on and made suggestions.
“‘T say, you two,” he began suddenly, when things seemed fairly under way, “what do you think I was doing this morning ?”
“ Writing, according to yourself,” I replied, busily buttering a large dish.
“Yes, of course; but what?” he asked mysteri- ously.
“A poem or an essay,” replied the cook, working her ladle energetically.
“Rot! what do you take me for?” exclaimed Frank, producing a crumpled piece of paper.
“The winner of the English prize!” retorted his sister, without looking round. I felt that Frank was glaring suspiciously at me, but the buttering process
luckily occupied my attention.
58 THE SECRET SOCIETY.
»
“Well, you’re wrong, anyway,” resumed Frank, after an awkward pause. “I was having no end of a swot drawing up the rules for the Sherlock Holmes Society.”
‘«« What’s that ?” asked Nora in a puzzled voice.
Frank promptly explained his ideas, and offered bashfully to read his rules for our edification.
“T had to rummage in your school togs for paper and pencil, Humphrey,” he acknowledged, “because I cleared out my pockets before I left Brotherton. Now tell me if you think these will do.”
RULES FOR THE IVY COTTAGE SHERLOCK HOLMES SOCIETY.