“I always thought the lamp was in the way,” agreed the aunt, “but as you say, Dorothy, it was in the right way this time. Well, let us be thankful no one is hurt--it is easy to replace mere merchandise.”
Dawn was peeping through blinds, and with the first ray of light quietness again fell upon the Cedars. The servants had gone back to their rooms, Dorothy and Tavia were again in their “corners,” as Tavia termed the pretty twin alcoves, allotted the young girls while visiting at the Cedars, and the young men--well, they did not return to their rooms. To lose five homing pigeons, and good family silver all within one week, was rather too exciting for boys like Nat and Ned. There was something to be done other than sleeping just then.
Even real, daring burglars are only mortal, and sometimes the most daring are the greatest cowards--when daylight comes and people are wide awake!
It was two days later, very early in the morning, when Nat went down to the “enclosure” to feed the lonely birds remaining in the cage, that he found one of those--a carrier which had been stolen, perched contentedly on its own particular box!
“Hello!” called out the young man, in delight. “Where did you come from? So an Archangel did ‘make good,’ as Tavia said. Well, I’m right glad to see you, Gabriel,” he told the prodigal. “Come down here and eat. You must be hungry.”
As if the bird understood, it promptly fluttered down to Nat, and came obediently up to the hand that held some inviting food.
“What’s that on your--A message!” Nat interrupted himself. “Looks like it. Here, Gabriel, let me get that note off your leg,” and he proceeded to untie from the bird’s foot a scrap of paper.
“Thought so,” went on the boy, as if the bird had been taking a more active part in the conversation than that of fluttering its wings and cooing happily. “A message--from--Let me see,” and Nat sat down on the edge of the scratch box.
“This is a scrawl, too scrawly for me, I’m afraid. That’s ‘c-o-me’ come,” and he peered through the thin paper at the indistinct letters. “And next is s-w-a-mp, swamp. ‘Come swamp.’ That’s it, all right. It’s a message telling us to go to the swamp,” and Nat jumped up, delighted to have deciphered the queer note.