May Thurston sprang to her feet, and regarded the speaker with an expression of sheer amazement, which swiftly changed to one of dismay. The softly-tinted rose of her cheeks flamed suddenly to scarlet; her luminous eyes, usually so gentle, sparkled dangerously. She stared fixedly at the man for a few seconds. At first, he encountered her gaze steadily enough, smiling. But, presently, under the accusation in her look, the smile passed from his lips, and his eyes fell. The girl continued to observe him indignantly for a few moments more. Then, at last, she spoke; and now there was more of sorrow than of anger in her voice:
“Hartley!”
The exclamation was a reproach, and as such the young man recognized it. He rose quickly, caught May’s hands in his, and spoke tenderly in justification of himself, his eyes again meeting hers boldly.
In the days that followed, Masters showed a wily patience. He recurred to the subject of the miser’s gold again and yet again. The girl’s reluctance slowly grew less, as she found herself unable to combat the ingenuities of his reasoning. Finally, she reached a point where she no longer opposed his wishes, although she still held to her own conviction as to the wrongfulness of that which he proposed. The man felt that he could trust to her neutrality, so reluctantly conceded. With this for the time being, he rested content.
CHAPTER III
THE ASSEMBLING
THE dwelling in the wilderness contained only two servants, a woman of fifty, who performed the duties of housekeeper and cook, and her husband, slightly older, who did the small amount of outdoor work required about the cottage, but, during the open weather, was chiefly concerned with the care of the two motor boats, which had been the miser’s single extravagance.
After the funeral, the lawyer of the deceased ordered Jake Dustin and his wife to remain at the cottage for the time being, to await the outcome of the bequest. May Thurston, also, was retained as the one person most conversant with Abernethey’s affairs. These arrangements made, the attorney returned to Boston, holding himself in readiness for another visit to the cottage at any time when his presence there might be required in connection with the inheritance. Masters, naturally enough, rejoiced in the situation thus created, which left him entire freedom in the prosecution of his illicit search for the treasure. He realized to the full that his best opportunity would be limited to the short interval before the arrival on the scene of others, who would inevitably regard his presence with surprise, if not with actual suspicion. For the moment, however, there was none to offer any hindrance. Jake was engaged in overhauling his engines within the boat-house, which was situated a full hundred yards from the cottage; he had neither eyes nor ears for the actions of Hartley Masters who, in his opinion, was merely “sparkin’ that Thurston gal mighty clus.” Mrs. Dustin, for her part, was absorbed, as always, in a relentless warfare against matter out of place, which she consistently loathed as dirt. As she invariably talked aloud to herself, she gave ample warning of her whereabouts at all times, and it was no difficult thing to evade her.
Yet, despite the advantages of his situation, Masters, to his chagrin, learned nothing concerning the treasure.
The young man’s failure was pleasing, rather than otherwise, to May Thurston, who, at intervals, kept alongside him in the quest, though always without affording him other assistance than the doubtful comfort of her presence. Despite the fact that his specious arguments had silenced her, she was by no means convinced as to the propriety of his undertaking. Her conscience still spoke clearly, even while she abandoned controversy with Masters for love’s sake.
A telegram from Mrs. West came to May, in which it was announced that the widow and her daughter, Margaret, would arrive at the lake on the day following. The lawyer had advised Mrs. West concerning the death of Abernethey and her daughter’s inheritance of this property, together with the possibility of another fortune, should Saxe Temple fail in his search for the secreted hoard of gold. On receiving the telegram, May was in a flutter of pleasureable excitement. Notwithstanding her devotion to Masters, the isolation of this life in the wilderness was a weariness to her spirit, and she joyously looked forward to the coming of the heiress, a girl presumably of about her own age, who might afford her that companionship she so craved.
Masters, on the other hand, was filled with an impotent rage against the promptitude of Mrs. West’s answer to the announcement of Abernethey’s death.
“The vultures flock to feed on the carcass,” the engineer sneered, with an angry tug at the flowing length of his mustache.
May’s lips set primly, as she stared at the handsome face of her lover with rather less than her usual admiration for his romantic air. It occurred to her active intelligence that Hartley was hardly the one to scorn those who came lawfully to claim their own, while he was unlawfully seeking the property of another with such feverish eagerness. But, with feminine wisdom, she held her peace, while Masters went on fuming futilely against fate. With the aid of time-tables, she calculated the exact hour at which Mrs. West’s arrival might be expected, since the message had neglected to state this, and then sought Jake, to whom she gave instructions that he should go down the lake in one of the motor-boats the next morning to meet the ten o’clock train, north-bound, at the station three miles away. When, that night, Masters, still grumbling, kissed her good night, her lips were passive, which had not been their wont.
Masters reappeared early the next morning, for he was aware that in a few hours his best opportunity to search would be past. He utterly ignored the fact that his engineering work was being neglected to an extent that must soon involve him in serious trouble with his employers. The possibility of wealth had suddenly come to dominate his thoughts, and it allowed no rivalry. He was pale, as if after a sleepless night, and his thatch of hair was tangled in a confusion real for once, not contrived with studied pains. His great, black eyes were glowing, as he encountered May at the cottage door. The girl sighed as she noted the haggard appearance of his face and the tenseness of his movements, usually so briskly graceful. A certain latent fierceness in his expression caused a thrill of apprehension in her heart. She was shocked that he could enter thus whole-souledly into a nefarious project for the sake of gain.
“Where’s the old woman?” Masters questioned curtly, after a scant phrase of greeting.
“In the kitchen,” May answered.
“I must hurry,” the engineer continued, alertly. “But, anyhow, I have almost four hours clear. They can’t get here before eleven, I guess.”
“If the train’s on time, they should get here about half-past ten,” May corrected. There was a note of warning in her voice. “Don’t let them find you—” she broke off, ashamed to finish her thought aloud.
Masters laughed shortly.
“No fear! I’ll watch out; but hold them back as much as you can,” he bade her. Without more ado, he entered the house.
She heard him go quickly into the music-room, shutting the door behind him. For a moment, she rested motionless, irresolute, her face troubled. Then, with a gesture of annoyance, she turned away, and went toward the waiting launch.
The north-bound train arrived hardly a minute behind its schedule. May, waiting eagerly on the station platform, scrutinized the few passengers as they clambered down from the day-coaches. Then, her attention was caught by the activities of a colored porter at the vestibule steps of the Pullman. Beside him, on the cinder path, were three valises of heavy leather, somewhat battered, but of undeniable dignity. As the man adjusted the portable step beside the track, two women appeared above him on the platform of the car. May had no doubt as to their identity. She noted the simple elegance of Mrs. West’s traveling suit, the modish air of the daughter’s. She observed, too, the radiant loveliness of the girl’s face. A subtle premonition of sorrow obsessed her, as she stared half-resentfully at the beauty of Margaret West, elusively revealed from within a mesh of gray veil. She fought against