The Phantom Violin Read online

  CHAPTER X SILENT BATTLE

  Ten minutes of running and dodging brought Florence, still gripping herrifle, squarely against a towering wall of rock.

  "Did he see me?" she asked herself. "And if he did?"

  Dropping back into the protecting branches of a black old fir tree, shestood breathing hard, listening.

  Her mind was in a whirl. She had saved the moose. But what of herself?

  "Probably a foolish thing to do," she muttered low. "And yet--"

  Her mind took another turn. Who was this man? Certainly he was breakingthe law. No man had a right to kill a moose on Isle Royale.

  "They are one of the great joys of the island," she told herself."Hundreds of people come just to see them. Nowhere else can one see themso easily and safely in their native haunts. If men begin to shoot themthey will go to the heart of the island and no one will see them. What apity!"

  Again, who was this man? She thought of the black schooner that had comecreeping up the bay in the dead of night and that other one Jeanne hadseen by the wrecked ship. Were they the same? And did this man belong tothat schooner? To none of these questions could she form a positiveanswer.

  When she had rested there in the shadows until she was sure the man hadnot followed her, she went gliding along beneath the rocky ridge, thenstarted, slipping and sliding downward, to the camping ground.

  Like a patient steed her boat lay waiting on the beach.

  "Should hurry back to the ship," she told herself. But the waters ofDuncan's Bay, so peaceful, so undisturbed and deserted, seemed to call.She answered that call.

  After rowing quietly for a half hour, she dropped her oars, took up herrod and began to cast. Her reel sang, the spoon gave off a silvery gleamas, cutting a narrow arc through the air, it sank from sight.

  Without truly hoping to catch a fish, she reeled in slowly. She repeatedthis again and again. Her boat was drifting. She gave no attention tothat. Each cast was straighter, longer than the last. Here was realsport.

  But wait! Of a sudden the pole was fairly yanked from her hand. "A fish!"she exclaimed. "Oh! A fish."

  She reeled in rapidly. The fish came up from the deep.

  "Only a poor little four pound pike," she sighed as she shook him free.

  The little pike had three brothers; at least she hooked that number andthrew them back.

  Then came a sudden shock. It was as if a powerful man had seized her lureand given it a terrific yank.

  "That's the big boy again, or his brother." She was thinking of thatother night with Jeanne. She set her shoulders for a tussle. "If it is--"She set her teeth tight. "Watch me land him!"

  The "tussle" never rightly began. With a suddenness beyond power todescribe, a voice in her very ear said:

  "So! Now I have you!"

  It was the man who meant to murder the aged moose. In his two gnarledhands he gripped a stout ashen oar. The oar was raised for a blow.

  What had happened was this. Her mind fully occupied with the fishingadventure, the girl had allowed her boat to drift farther and fartherinto the bay. She had at last come within the stranger's view. Stillangry because of his interrupted piece of vandalism, he had pushed offfrom the shore and, by using an oar for a paddle, had stolen upon herunobserved.

  That there would be a battle the strong girl did not doubt. How would itend? Who could say? Her pulse pounded madly as she reached for her ownoar.

  The two small boats were a full mile from the Narrows, through which oneenters Duncan's Bay. At that moment a white fishing boat, fully fortyfeet long and gay with all manner of flags and bunting, was entering theNarrows.

  There were a number of men and women on board, all gayly dressed, and,until a few moments before, enjoying a grand fete of music and dancing.Now they were silent. Duncan's Bay affects all in this same manner. Dark,mysterious, deserted, it seems to speak of the past. A hush falls uponall alike as they pass between the narrow, sloping walls that standbeside the entrance to this place of strange enchantment.

  Conspicuous because of his size and apparent strength, one man stood outfrom the other voyagers. Garbed in green breeches and a gayly decoratedvest, he stood at the prow, massive brown arms folded, silently directingthe course of the boat by a slight swaying, this way and that, of hispowerful body.

  Florence was quick. Hours of work in a gymnasium each day for months onend had given her both the speed and strength of a tiger. Before theintruder could strike she had seized her oar and was prepared to parrythe blow.

  The oars came together with a solid thwack. Not a word was said as theydrew back for a second sally. This was to be a silent battle.

  The man tried a straight on, sword-like thrust. It became evident at oncethat he meant to plunge her into the icy water. What more?

  Swinging her oar in a circle, she struck his weapon such a blow as allbut knocked it from his hands.

  Before he could regain his grip, she sent a flashing blow that barelymissed his head, coming down with a thud upon his back.

  Turning upon her a face livid with anger, he executed a crafty thrust tothe right, leading her weapon astray. Before she could recover, her boattipped. She fell upon one knee. At the same instant there came a crashingblow that all but downed her for a count of ten. The man smiled.

  "I'm done!" her aching heart seemed to whisper.

  But what was this? There came the sound of heavy feet dropping upon thebottom of the boat. This was followed by a wolf-like growl. Then came thepanting breath of terrific struggle.

  Florence regained full consciousness in time to see her adversary caughtin the grip of a powerful man, and to witness the feat of strength thatlifted him clear of the boat and sent him sprawling into black waters afull ten feet away.

  At that her deliverer turned and smiled, showing all his fine whiteteeth.

  "Bihari!" she exclaimed. "Bihari the gypsy!"

  "Yes, Miss Florence." The man bowed. "Here we meet again. And this one--"He glanced at the man struggling in the water. "What of him?"

  "It's not far to shore. Perhaps he can swim that far."

  "Ah, yes, I am sure of that." Bihari's grin broadened. "Come then, wewill forget him. You will come aboard our fine little schooner. My goodMama will look you over and see if you are hurt."

  To her surprise Florence found the flag-bedecked boat close at hand. Thevillainous intruder had been outgeneraled by his own tactics. He had comeupon Florence silently, unobserved. In this same manner Bihari,witnessing the struggle, had stolen upon him. Not, however, until he hadwon the battle had Bihari discovered he was defending a long-time friend.

  "Florence!" his buxom wife cried as the girl climbed aboard. "It isindeed good to see you! And where is my Jeanne?"

  "She--she's not far away. You shall see her within an hour if youchoose."

  "Choose?" Bihari laughed a great roaring laugh. "Have we not traveledhalf way round the world that we might see her? Have we not traded ourvans for a boat that we might come to this place? Show us the way."

  "You saw the wreck as you came in?"

  "Ah, yes."

  "That is the place."

  "The wreck?" Bihari stared.

  "The wreck," she repeated.

  Without another word this strange skipper mounted the deck to begin thatunusual directing of his craft.

  Four words came back to Florence, as with her boat in tow, she rode inluxurious ease out of the bay. "We will forget him." Bihari had saidthat. He had been speaking of the stranger. Could they safely forget him?Something seemed to tell her they could not.