Part 21 (1/2)
”What did I say, Davis?” he asked, in a carefully guarded voice. ”I tell you, I am never wrong.” And his eyes followed the girls as they started down the deck in the direction of their cabin.
As they, in turn, stepped upon the deck, the short man looked up at his tall companion and said rather enigmatically: ”Sometimes I wonder, Jensen, whether you are a great man, or a great fool. It's certainly great to have them on this trip to Florida with us.”
Although the girls knew nothing of this strange conversation, Nan was extremely careful to stow her bag away in a corner of their stateroom and piled several things on it and about it so that it could not be easily seen by curious eyes.
”Nan, if you don't leave that old thing alone I'm going to throw it overboard,” Bess finally said complainingly. ”You act as if it contained diamonds and rubies instead of----”
”Oh, please hush,” said Nan, rising quickly from her knees and coming over to Bess. ”I don't know what has gotten into me lately, Bess dear,”
she said, speaking so earnestly that her chum regarded her in surprise; ”but ever since I took charge of those papers I have had the strangest impression that I am being watched.”
”Nan!” cried Bess, looking uneasily over her shoulder, ”what a terrible thing. But, of course, it's only imagination,” she added easily, for it was instinct with Bess to cast aside anything that threatened to worry her or interfere with her fun. ”I told you the old papers were getting on your nerves.”
”You're right,” said Nan, with a little sigh as she rose to take off her coat and hat and straighten her hair before the tiny mirror. ”They certainly are getting on my nerves.”
”Well, for goodness' sake get them off then,” commanded Bess, bouncing impatiently on a berth. ”I never saw such a girl to take everybody else's troubles on her own shoulders. I'll be glad when you turn the papers over to Mr. Mason.”
Nan smiled a resigned little smile at her reflection in the mirror. Then she came over and put an arm about her pouting chum.
”All right,” she promised gaily, ”I won't ever do it again. Only come on and smile, honey. If you knew how pretty you look when you do, you would never do anything else.”
There are very few girls who can withstand an appeal like that, and Bess was not one of them. A smile replaced the frown immediately and the next minute she was chatting merrily about their crowded little stateroom and the two narrow berths, one above the other, wondering with a grimace whether they would be seasick or not, and so, on and on, till Nan's momentary depression forsook her and she felt again the thrill that had quickened her blood as they had stood on the dock, gazing out over the harbor.
Yet, almost unknown to Nan herself, there lingered in the back of her mind a strange, uneasy premonition of trouble to come, and again and again her eyes sought the spot where the bag with Mrs. Bragley's papers stowed safely inside lay hidden.
”I wonder which one of us is going to take the upper berth,” Bess chattered gaily on. ”You had better, Nan, because you're thinner than I.
And then if the berth should cave in it wouldn't hurt you so much because there would be something soft to fall on. It's a snug little place, isn't it?”
”Snug is right,” said Nan, with a giggle. ”You can't turn around without running in to something.”
”That's Linda's fault. She shouldn't have wrecked the heating system at school in the Palm Beach season. If it had been in December now, or March, there wouldn't have been such a crowd and we could have had a real honest to goodness stateroom, instead of this two-by-one hole in the wall.”
”Elizabeth, how shocking,” laughed Nan. ”You must have been taking lessons from Walter.” And then, for no apparent reason at all, or perhaps because of the expression in her chum's eyes as they rested upon her, Nan became suddenly confused and hurriedly changed the subject.
”Let's go outside,” she suggested, rising and making toward the door of the stateroom, which opened directly out upon the deck. ”It--it's awfully hot in here.”
Bess laughed tantalizingly and stretched lazily as she prepared to follow her chum.
”Nan, honey,” she drawled, irrelevantly, or so it seemed to Nan, ”you are a darling, but, oh, you're awfully foolish.”
CHAPTER XVIII
A STARTLING REVELATION
It was a wonderful journey, that one to Jacksonville, and one the girls never forgot. At first the weather was unpleasant, cold and blowy, but toward the afternoon of the second day the gentle winds of the south fanned them with their welcoming breath, and heavy wraps began to feel burdensome.
At first the girls had been afraid that they would become seasick and had wondered what they would do should such a weakness overtake them.