The Secret of Steeple Rocks

"Are you satisfied, Beth?"

Elizabeth Secrest turned with a smile to the two girls who had come up behind her, their footfalls silent in the sand. "The world is mine," she answered, with a comprehensive sweep of her arm and hand toward the foaming surf which was almost at their feet. "Doesn't it fill you, some way?"

"Yes, Beth; I'm not myself at all. Here,-take these and look at those towering rocks with them." Sarita Moore handed her fine glasses, all shining and new, to the older girl, who directed them toward a distant pile of rocks. There two rose high, irregularly decreasing in circumference, and at this distance apparently pointed at their tops. Below them massed the other rocks of the dark headland.

Elizabeth looked long and steadily. "Steeple Rocks!" she murmured. "I wish that I owned them! But I would give them a better name. I'd call them Cathedral Rocks. Doesn't the whole mass make you think of the cathedrals,-the cathedrals that you and I are going to see some day, Leslie?"

The third girl of the group now took the glasses which her sister offered. "Sometimes, Beth, I can't follow the lines of your imagination; but it doesn't take much this time to make a cathedral out of that. Are you happy, Beth?" There was a tone of anxiety in the question.

"Yes, child. Who could help being happy here? Look at that ocean, stretching out and away-into eternity, I think,-and the clouds-and the pounding of the surf. Think, girls! It's going to put us to sleep to-night!"

"Unless it keeps us awake," suggested Leslie, "but I'm all lifted out of myself, too, Beth. Imagine being here all summer! Look at Dal, Sarita."

Leslie pointed toward a masculine figure standing on the beach not far in advance of them. "It's 'what are the wild waves saying?' to Dal all right!"

Dalton Secrest, who had preceded his two sisters and their friend in their visit to the beach and the tossing waves, stood facing the sea, his hands in his pockets, his tall young body straight before the strong breeze. He heard the girls' voices above the noise of the surf, as they came more closely behind him, and turned with a smile as his sister had done.

"What great thoughts are you thinking Dal?" Sarita queried.

"Sorry that I can't claim any just this minute, Sarita. I was thinking about what fish there are in the sea for me. When I'm not building the shack I'm going to fish, girls, and I was wondering if the bay wouldn't be the best place for that."

"Of course it would, Dal," Leslie replied, "but you can easily find out where the fishermen get their fish. I thought at first that I should never want to eat. It is almost enough to look. But now,-'I dunno,' as the song goes!"

"We'd better be getting back to the tents," said Dalton. "Beth looks as if she had not had enough, but I'll have to gather some wood for a fire and by the time we have our supper it will be dark. We can watch the sunset just as well from above." With this, Dalton Secrest linked arms with the girls, and with one on each side of him ran as rapidly as sand would permit to where Elizabeth had found a seat upon a rock back of the sands.

"Come on, Beth. Time for eats. Les and Sairey Gamp are going to do the cooking while you sit out on the point with your little pencil to sketch."

"Don't you call me 'Sairey Gamp,' Dal Secrest," laughed Sarita.

"Never you mind, Sairey, you can get it back on me. If I have any time left from building, fishing and bringing home the bacon, I shall be the wild pirate of Pirates' Cove!"

"Listen to Dal!" cried Leslie. "You'd think that he had to support the family! But I will admit, Dal, that if 'bacon' is fish, it will certainly help out expenses."

Dalton fell back with his older sister, Beth, while the two others went on, all directing their way to a spot some distance ahead, where the climb to the upper level was not difficult. All four were exhilarated by the new scenes, the beauty and almost mystery of the sea, the beach, the rocks and crags, and the invitation of the singing pines where their tents were pitched.

As anyone might surmise, their arrival was recent. Sensibly they had pitched their tents first, while Dalton could have the assistance of the man who drove them there; but after the necessary things were accomplished they hastened to get as close to the sea as possible, for none of them had ever seen it before.

It was one of the interesting spots on the much indented coast of Maine. There were an obscure little fishing village, a bay, into which a few small streams emptied, and a stretch of real coast, washed by the ocean itself. It was this beach which the newcomers had just visited with such pleasure, at a place varying in its outlines, from curving sands washed by a restless sea to high rocks and half-submerged boulders, where the water boiled and tossed.

As the summer visitors climbed the ascent, they noticed that in the village at their left most of the fishers' cottages lay within easy reach of the beach proper, from which the launching of boats was easy. There was a dock, stout, but small. It was quite evident that no large vessels came in.

The bay lay in the direction of Steeple Rocks, but the climb to reach it would have been impossible from the beach. This was blocked by the high cliff whose rocks reached out into the waves and curved around into one side of the bay's enclosure, though gradually lowering in height. Much farther away, around the curving, rocky, inland shore of the bay, and across its quiet waters from this cliff, loomed the other more bulging headland which reminded Beth of a cathedral in some of its outlines. But Beth was an artist, and an artist had not named Steeple Rocks.

Dalton helped Elizabeth while the other girls scrambled up to the path by themselves. "I do hate to play the invalid, Dal," breathlessly said Beth, clutching her brother's arm. "What is the matter with me, anyhow?"

"Nothing in the world, Doc said, but being just played out. What do you expect? You can't do a million things and teach school, for fun, of course, on the side, and feel as frisky as a rabbit at the end of the year. Just wait, old girl. We had to let you help us get ready to come, but about two weeks of doing nothing and sleeping in this air,-well, you will probably be able to help me up the rocks!"

Leslie, meanwhile, was explaining to her chum Sarita how their property included the smaller headland and its rocks. "There is right of way, of course, but this is ours."

The girls were standing by this time high on the rocks, from which they could look down and back, along the beach where they had been. At this place the point ran out to its curving, jutting, broken but solid rampart which kept the sea from the bay. Below them a few boats dotted the surface of the bay. Sarita through her glass was watching a vessel which was passing far out on the ocean.

"How did it happen, Leslie, that you never came here?" Sarita asked.

"You see, Father had just bought it the summer before he died. He had been up in Canada and then down on the coast of Maine. He came home to tell us of the place he had bought at a great bargain, where we had an ocean view, a bay to fish in, and a tiny lake of our own. Then came all our troubles and we had almost forgotten about it, except to count it among our assets, pay tax on it and wish that we could raise some money on it. But nobody wanted a place that had no good roads for an automobile and was not right on the railroad, though, for that matter, I don't think it's so terribly far."

"Yes, it is, Les, for anybody that wants to be in touch with civilization, but who wants to be for the summer?"

"Well, as we told you when Beth said I could ask you to come along, it is just what we want to camp in, and there are people near enough for safety, besides the 'Emporium' of modern trade in the village, if that is what one can call this scattered lot of cottages."

"It is more picturesque, Beth says, just as it is, and most of the summer cottages are on the other side of the village, or beyond the Steeple Rocks, in the other direction, so we'll not be bothered with anybody unless we want to be. I like folks, myself, but when you camp you want to camp, and Beth is so tired of kiddies that she says she doesn't want to see anybody under fifteen for the whole three months!"

Sarita laughed at this. "She seemed jolly enough on the way."

"Oh, Beth is jolly and perfectly happy to come; but we did not have any idea how worn out she was, simply doing too much and so afraid we'd have too much to do to get our lessons. Why, when Dal and I waked up to the fact that Elizabeth was almost a goner, we were scared to pieces. She couldn't get up one morning after Commencement was over,-but you remember about that and how we sent for the doctor in a hurry. My, what a relief when he said that it was just overdoing and that she was to stay in bed and sleep, and eat anything she wanted to!"

"She told me how you wanted to feed her every half hour."

"Yes," laughed Leslie, "and I tried all the good recipes in the cook book, almost."

But the girls walked out on the point a little distance, then returned, while Leslie, from her memory of her father's plan, pointed out the place behind a windbreak of rocks where Elizabeth thought he intended to build the "Eyrie." Strolling back from the Point, across an open space partly grown with straggling weeds and grass, the girls entered the pine woods, which was the thing of beauty upon the Secrest land. There Beth was seated upon a box, watching Dalton build a fire.

"Ever and anon that lad shakes a finger at me, girls, to keep me from doing anything," Beth said, in explanation of her idleness.

"Good for Dal," said Leslie. "Sarita and I are the chief cooks and bottle-washers around here. Just sit there, Beth, and tell us what to do, if we can't think of it ourselves. I see that you brought water, Dal. Shall we boil it before drinking?"

"No; this is from the prettiest spring you ever saw. I opened some boxes and set up the tables, so you can go ahead. I'm going to get a supply of wood handy. We'll fix up our portable stove to-morrow, but I want to have it in good shape, and then I thought that you girls would like a camp fire to-night."

"Oh, we do!" cried Leslie and Sarita almost with one voice. "We'll have hot wieners and open a can of beans. They'll heat in a minute. Dal, that is a fine arrangement, fixing those stones for us to rest our pan on."

It was Leslie who finished these remarks, as she and Sarita busied themselves with the work of supper and Dalton went back into the woods again for more wood. They heard the sound of his hatchet as they put a cloth on the little folding table and set it in a convenient place outside of the tent. "The table will make a good buffet, but I want to take my plate and sit on the pine needles."

"You will be obliged to, for want of chairs at present," said Elizabeth, jumping up and insisting on being allowed to help. What a new atmosphere it was! Here they were, off in the "wilds" and their own wilds at that, with all sorts of happy experiences before them.

Dalton, whistling a popular song went about hither and yon, gathering a supply of wood, lopping off undesirable portions of old limbs here and there. Looking up at a sound, he was surprised to see a rough-looking man approaching him. He was ill-featured, dark, grim, and of stalwart build. Dalton, rather glad of his hatchet, stood his ground, waiting to be addressed.

"What are you folks doing here?" the man demanded.

"This is our land, sir," replied Dalton, "and we have just come to camp here for the summer." He felt like adding, "any objections?" but thought that he would not be the one to start any trouble by impertinence. He did not like the man's tone, however.

"How do we know that you own this land? I'd not heard of its being sold."

"It can easily be proved. Our name is Secrest. My father bought this several years ago."

"Is your father here?"

"Well, excuse me, sir, would you prefer to ask your questions of my father? Are you the mayor of the village?"

"No; but any of us have a right to know what strangers are going to do."

"Perhaps you have, sir," said Dalton, in a more friendly way, "but it's a free country, you know, and we own this piece of ground. I'm expecting to camp here all summer, and to build a more permanent home, or start one, for our summers here."

The man nodded. "Well, if that is so, and if you mind your own business, you may like it. But it ain't healthy around here for snoopers, nor folks that are too cur'ous. That's all." The man stalked away, tying more tightly a red handkerchief around his neck, and hitching up the collar of his rough coat. The ocean breeze was growing a little chilly.

But a thought occurred to Dalton and he spoke again to the man. "Wait a moment, please. How about these woods and the places around here,-are they safe for my sisters and our friend?"

"Yes, safe enough. It's too far from the railroad for tramps and thieves and there ain't no good roads for the fellers with cars. The folks over at Steeple Rocks growl about that."

"We have neighbors over in that direction, then?"

"So you didn't know that. H'm. You don't know much about this place, if your father did buy it."

"No. None of us were ever here before."

"And your father's dead."

Dalton looked up surprised at that, for he had purposely avoided answering that question about his father. The man grinned a little. "I reckon a kid like you wouldn't be talkin' about buildin' a cabin himself if he had a father. Have you got a boat?"

"No, but we're going to have one."

"Remember what I said, then, about minding your own affairs."

Having no good reply to this, which Dalton resented, he curbed his rising anger at this rude acquaintance and watched him stride in the direction of the road, which wound through the woods some distance away. "Well, your room is far better than your company," thought Dalton, as he picked up his sticks, making a load of them. He wondered whether this were one of the fishermen or not. He did not have the same speech as that of the other New Englanders whom they had recently met. The man who had brought their goods from the station had been most friendly, answering their questions and volunteering all kinds of interesting information about the country. It was odd that he had not mentioned the people at Steeple Rocks, but it had so happened.

With such thoughts, Dalton went through the woods, whose wonderful pines had so delighted them, and finally joined the girls, arranging his firewood at a convenient distance. Leslie found little things for Dalton to do and supper was hurried up. The table was used for buttering bread and fixing sandwiches; then each with a loaded plate sought a place around the fire, which Dalton heaped with firewood till it blazed as hotly as was safe.

There was some scrambling around when the wind veered and blew the smoke in the wrong direction, but the camp was more or less protected from the direct breeze. Happy and hungry, the campers disposed of a good meal in the midst of considerable fun and joking. Long acquaintance had made Sarita like a member of the family. She and Leslie recounted amusing incidents of their school year just ended, or consulted Dalton about their plans for the camp and the Eyrie. Elizabeth woke to something like her old fire and announced that she intended to go back to "sweet sixteen" and play with the rest of them.

"Oh, Beth, bob your hair, then!" urged Leslie, running her fingers through her own curly brown mop.

"Not much she doesn't!" Dalton objected. "I can't imagine Beth without her piles of pretty hair. Who was that beau, Beth, that wrote about your 'waves of burnished gold'?"

Beth laughed. "I was very mad, then, when you infants discovered that poem."

"Beth's hair is just a little too dark to be called 'golden,'" reflectively said Sarita. "You might braid it and wear it over your shoulders, Indian fashion."

"It would be in my way, my dear."

"Bob it, Beth!" again said Leslie. "Dalton is just like the rest of the men about a girl's hair. Think how fine it will be not to have so much to dry when you go in swimming."

"Don't you weaken, Beth," spoke Dalton, eating his last sandwich. "Think of the 'artistic Miss Secrest' without her 'wonderful hair.'"

"Come now, folks, it's my hair. I'm not doing anything at all about it, and what a waste of time and opportunity to discuss such a subject here! Come on, girls, we must fix up the beds. Dal, please help us with the cots, and did you think what a fine dresser that big box will make, girls? It has a division in it, you remember. We'll set it on end, put a cover on it over some paper, tack a curtain across, and there will be our dressing table, with a big shelf behind the curtain. I'm wasted in the schoolroom, Sarita. I ought to be an interior decorator. To-morrow some of those pretty spruce limbs will make a fine background for our mirror!"

"Beth! Did you honestly buy that mirror in the store by the station? Dal, it's the funniest thing you ever saw and we look crooked in it. Beth must have liked it because it makes her look fat!"

Springing up, the party of four piled their plates and cups on the table, where Sarita busied herself in repacking the food in its containers and the others went into the larger tent. There trunks and boxes had been left in confusion.

In a short time Dalton had the three cots up and took another to his own tent, which stood opposite the larger one. Leslie had suggested the arrangement, insisting that they must live on an "Avenue." Elizabeth and Leslie were now drawing both woolen and cotton blankets from a big trunk of supplies, together with four warm bathrobes. Sarita came in just in time to seize upon hers with an exclamation of welcome. "We'll probably want to sleep in 'em," she said, with an exaggerated shiver, putting on the garment over her sweater while Leslie laughed at her.

Trunks were pulled around into place, boxes piled out of the way, flashlights and the convenient bags or cases, with which they had traveled, found and placed by their owners' cots. On the rude dresser, to be made more attractive in the future, a candlestick, candle and a box of matches stood ready if needed, "And if anybody lights the candle, let him beware of burning up the place!" warned Beth.

"Her, not 'him,' Beth," corrected Leslie. "The only 'him' has a tent of his own. I'm going to see, too, that Dal has enough blankets on his bed and everything. No, keep out, Beth. Don't worry; I'll think of just exactly what we have that he must have, too. Say, what did we do with those towels? Thanks. Dal is grand to do things for us, but when it comes to fixing up himself,-" Leslie ran across the boulevard, which Sarita now called the space between the tents, and the girls smiled as they heard her arguing with Dalton about something.

"Listen, Dal! It gets cold up here. I've known girls that camped in Maine. I know that you're hot-blooded and all that. I'll just tuck these blankets in at the foot, and I know that you'll want to draw them up by morning."

Some bass murmur came from her brother and then the girls heard Leslie's more carrying voice. "No, I'll brace them back on this box and then they won't be too heavy on your feet. Well, have it your own way, then, but if you freeze, I'll not be responsible!"

Leslie was grinning herself, when she came into the girls' tent and saw Sarita shaking with laughter, as she sat on the edge of her cot undressing. "We'' couldn't help hear, Les!" she said. "The boulevard should be wider. What was it beside the blanket discussion?"

"The last thing he said to me was 'Can't you let a guy go to bed?'-but he was laughing and lifted the flap of the tent for me with a most ridiculous bow. Dal's the funniest thing!"

"All the same I'd be scared to death, going to bed away off here, if it wasn't for Dal across there."

"I imagine that I would be, too, though Beth and I have gotten used to taking care of ourselves. Now you in bed first, Beth. You must get out of the way of 'going over the house' to see if everything is all right. I will boss somebody!"

"You can boss me all you please, Leslie. You may even tuck me into bed," said Beth, looking so sweet with her long, light braids, that Leslie walked right over, turned back the blankets on Beth's cot, almost lifted the slight figure into place, tucked her in snugly and kissed her soundly.

The first day in camp was over. Dalton had purposely said nothing about the man of the woods. He would mention it to Leslie and Sarita in the morning, but on the whole he expected no trouble. The fishermen reached the bay, as a rule, from the ocean itself, rather than from the high cliffs. There was little to bring anyone in that direction, except possibly someone of their neighbors from Steeple Rocks. His question to the man had been more to test his purposes, than for information, and Dalton was sorry that he had not mentioned the target practice which he had induced the girls to take up more as a safe means of defence than as a sport, though he had not told them that.

But Dalton Secrest was of no timid sort. This was a new adventure and promised much. What it was to include he did not yet know. There were to be some moments not exactly "healthy," as the man had warned, though Dalton himself was not responsible for unraveling the mystery of Steeple Rocks.