Page:Ruth Fielding at Lighthouse Point.djvu/149

Rh slipped both on in a hurry. When she opened the door the chill, salt air, with not a little fog in it, breathed into the close hall.

She stepped out, pulled the door to and latched it, and crossed the porch. The harbor seemed deserted. Two or three night lights sparkled over on the village side. What vessels rode at anchor showed no lights at their moorings. But the great, steady, yellow light of the beacon on the point shone steadily—a wonderfully comforting sight, Ruth thought, at this hour of the night.

There were no more flashes of lantern light from the dock. Nor did she hear a sound from that direction as she passed out through the trimly cut privet hedge and took the shell walk to the boathouse. She was in canvas shoes and her step made no sound. In a moment or two she was in the shadow again.

Then she heard voices—soft, but earnest tones—and knew that two people were talking out there toward the end of the dock. One was a deep voice; the other might be Nita's—at least, it was a feminine voice.

"Who under the sun can she have come here to meet?" wondered Ruth, anxiously. "Not one of the boys. This can't be merely a lark of some kind"

Something scraped and squeaked—a sound that shattered the silence of the late evening com-