Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX. THE STOLEN TRUNK Three days' rain became a reality, a steady downpour that set the forest mourning in earnest, and turned the lake into a blanket of gray, settled down over all. Petite Jean did not care. She had been sent north, to rest. There was still a pile of unread romances in the corner cupboard.
The shed at the back of the cabin was piled high with dry wood. The fire burned ever brightly. What more could she wish? When she tired of reading, she called to Tico, who lay sleeping by the fire hours on end, and together they went through some difficult step of the gypsy dance.
To Florence, save for one condition, this prolonged downpour would have seemed nothing short of a catastrophe. She was shut away from her beloved out-of-doors. But this only gave her more time to spend with that fascinating person, the Lady Cop. The lady cop had become all but a pal to Florence and Tilly. Every evening, after day's work was done and darkness had blanketed the water, Tilly came stealing over to the mystery cabin, and she never lacked a welcome. She gave the lady cop many a needed bit of information. With her aid the lady cop had so far progressed in her investigation that she whispered to them
on the second day of the rain, that soon she would be ready to wire for reinforcements. When these arrived, she would spring the trap. And then, Florence breathed, Then the three rubies will be in my hands, and some one will go to jail. But let's not talk too much, she added. The best-laid plans often fail. The hour of the day that Florence and Tilly loved best was the one which preceded the
lady cops shooing them out for the night. At that hour, after brewing herself a cup of coffee and drinking it steaming hot, she spun weird tales of her adventures as a lady detective. An only child of a police captain, at the age of eighteen she had seen her father brought home dead, shot in the back while assisting in a raid on a notorious gambling house. Over her father's dead body she had vowed that she would take his place.
When the time came, when she was of age, her mother, having no boys to give to the great service of protecting humanity, had, smilingly, tearfully, given that which she had, a girl, and to the city she had already proved herself a priceless gift. Working her way secretly into places where no man could ever have entered, she had brought to light places of vice and crime which for long years had remained hidden in the dark.
Time and again she had succeeded in attaching herself to some wild young set, and in doing so had not alone shown them their folly, but had also brought those who preyed upon them to justice. It's not always easy to place money on the board, she said one night, on the gaming board, with the hand that does not tremble, when you realize that there are those watching who would
gladly kill you, did they but know who you were. Twice I was discovered and locked up. One of these times I let myself out of the window to the street two floors below on a rope made of my own skirt. The other time, a squad wagon came in time to release me. Listen to this. Her eyes burned brightly. Never believe the stories you read in cheap magazines. Those stories tell you that crooks are really good sports, generous, chivalrous, and all that. They are not. Not one
in a thousand. They are hard as flint, cruel, heartless, ready for any savage deed that will give them liberty and the wild life they crave. After this outburst on the second rainy night, she lapsed into silence. In time she sprained to her feet and drew on her raincoat. I'm going out for a row alone in the dark, she said. Stay here and keep the fire burning. It's not late.
I'll be back in an hour. She left the cabin. Tilly and Florence sat by the fire. Ever hear how this cabin came here? Tilly asked.
No, Florence replied quickly. It's sort of interesting. I'll tell you. Oh, please do. This, Tilly began, was once the cabin of a ship.
It looks the part, replied Florence. But where are the portholes? some one has covered them till he stepped to the wall fumbled for a short time with the fastening then swung back a section of the panelling which was in reality a small door revealing a circle of brass framing a glass but why a ship's cabin on land florence's face took on a puzzled frown it was all on account of old captain abner jones his ship was wrecked on the shoals near goose island she was the merry sea just a freighter but a good strong one captain abner jones had her for his first command she was his last too he lived in this cabin and sailed the great lakes for thirty-five years
then when she struck one stormy night through no fault of his he refused to leave her all through the storm he stuck there though she was half torn to pieces when the storm was over his men went out to get him still he wouldn't come no men much obliged all the same he told them you've been a good crew you'll find other berths but mine's here i'll never leave this cabin the men went aside i've heard my father tell it lots of times they talked it over They loved their old skipper. They knew the next storm would do for the ship, and him too, if he stayed. So they made a plan. All right, Cap, the first mate said, when they had come back to him. You have your way, and we'll have ours too. Give us a day, maybe two. We'll put this cabin
in a safe place. Meaning what? Captain asked. That we'll set the cabin ashore, and you in her. "'I guess the captain saw they were too strong for him, "'so he let them have their way. "'They took a lot more than two days. "'You see what a neat job they did.
"'Why, there's even a hold to the place. "'They built it of ship's timbers.' "'A hold?' Florence stared at her. "'By way of answer, Tilly began rolling up the canvas "'that covered the floor.
"'When she had done this, she pried up a plank, then another. Next she sent the gleam of a flashlight into the dark depths below. Sure enough, a real hold, exclaimed Florence. And there's a trunk. Tilly, too, was surprised.
How long do you suppose it's been there? Not long. See, the copper's not tarnished. It's her trunk, she spoke of the lady cop. It must be, but such a queer trunk.
it was indeed an unusual bit of baggage made of some very hard tropical wood it was bound by broad bands of copper strangest of all were its straps they were four inches wide and fully three-quarters of an inch thick what monster has a hide like that tilly asked in amazement a walrus or elephant it's empty quite naturally one does not leave one's things in a trunk at a cellar like this but it's wide open that's a bit strange it's all strange a woman with a trunk like that for a moment they stood there staring down into that dark chasm tell you what exclaimed tilly at last i've got an idea tilly was given to having ideas some of them were quite wild for tilly was more than half wild herself "'Let's steal the trunk!' she cried, clapping her hands.
"'That,' Florence said in some disgust, "'seems a dumb idea.' "'Not so dumb as you think. "'Listen, day before yesterday I brought the lady cop "'a small bag of balsam tips,
"'you know, the green end of twigs that smell so swell?' "'Yes.' She took one sniff of them, threw up her hands, and said, I'd like a trunkful, a whole trunkful to take home to my friends for making pillows. We'll steal her trunk and hide it in the woods. We'll fill it with balsam tips.
Turkey Trot and I will bring it back. She'll drop dead when she sees it. She'll never know it's been gone until she sees the balsam tips. Come on, give me a hand. She'll be back pretty soon. We'll just hide it in the brush until we go home. Then we'll carry it over to your point.
Florence, though not fully convinced of the wisdom of such high-handed proceedings, was quite carried away by Tilly's bubbling enthusiasm. In less time than it takes to tell it, the trunk was up from the dark hole, and away to the brush, the planks down again, the canvas spread smoothly in place. They were not a moment too soon.
Shaking the rain from her coat, the lady cop came breezing in. It's glorious, she enthused, even in the night and in the rain. I hate to leave it all, but I fear I must, very soon. This last remark sent a chill running up Florence's spine, but she never said a word. End of Chapter 19
