girl faced her companion with a movement of shocked surprise.
“Think of us!” she repeated, confusedly. “Whatever can you mean?”
Masters turned, and regarded May with intentness, a fond smile showing beneath the curve of his mustache. His voice, as he spoke now, was softer than usual:
“Why,” he said, “I was just thinking on the hardness of fate—sometimes. Here was this old man, with more money than he knew what to do with, and here are we without a penny. There was nothing money could do for him, except gratify a vice—the madness of the miser; and money could do everything for you and me, sweetheart. The thought of it made me say it was a shame the old man didn’t think of us!”
“Well, after all, we couldn’t expect him to,” the girl said placidly, with the sober sense characteristic of her. “Of course, it would have been nice to have his fortune, but we must be patient, Hartley.” She turned her face again to the east, and looked out into the deeper purples of the distance, beholding again fair visions of the happiness to come.
The man’s tones were somber, as he replied:
“I tell you, May, it seems to me like no man’s money.”
The girl aroused herself from dreaming, and for the second time regarded her lover with puzzled inquiry.
“What do you mean by that, Hartley?” she demanded.
“I mean,” came the deliberate answer, “that this hidden fortune of Abernethey’s doesn’t really belong to anyone at this moment.”
“Nonsense!” the secretary exclaimed briskly, confident as to the fact out of her stores of business experience. “The money belongs to the estate. By due course of law, it will go to Saxe Temple, if he fulfills the condition under which it has been left him. If he fails, it will go to the girl and the musicians’ home.” She smiled contentedly, pleasantly conscious of her own erudition, and looked out over the lake again, watching idly the frolicing dance of the swallows to the movement of the waves.
“On the contrary,” Masters continued argumentatively, “at this very moment, the ownership of that gold is problematical. Nobody exactly owns it, although theoretically the title to it is vested in the surrogate’s court, or whatever they call it in this wilderness. As a matter of strict fact, that gold has become hidden treasure. To be sure, the old man has left directions as to who shall have it if found, and who shall have it if it’s not found. But, suppose now, someone else were to find it—not Saxe Temple?” The girl uttered an ejaculation, and faced her lover with startled surprise, meeting the fire of his gaze bewilderedly. “Suppose I were to find it?”
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
