The Mystery at Number Six

Augusta Huiell Seaman
餜

The Mystery at Number Six.
By Augusta Huiell Seaman
Author of "THE DRAGON'S SECRET," "THE CRIMSON PATCH," "THE SLIPPER POINT MYSTERY," "THREE SIDES OF PARADISE GREEN," "THE GIRL NEXT DOOR," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY W. P. COUSE

NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1922
Copyright, 1922, by THE CENTURY CO.
PRINTED IN U.S.A.
CHAPTER I
WHO WAS SHE?
IT would be difficult to say just why they had selected Number Six to explore on that particular afternoon. Mere chance had a large element in it. So had the fact that it was the only pool within many miles of their vicinity with which they had not already become intimately acquainted. Lastly, it was the farthest removed. They had had to travel twelve miles in the little Ford to get to it.
Bernice lay contentedly at the edge of a sand embankment white as driven snow, her chin cupped in her hands, watching half a dozen or more mullets drift and swing in the limpid clear water below. Sydney roamed along the sides of the pool, a hunting rifle under his arm, also speculatively watching a brace of larger fish farther away.
There is nothing more utterly fascinating than an abandoned South Florida phosphate-mine pool, nor is there anything farther removed in appearance from the same mine in full operation. A phosphate-mine in full swing is a busy, impressive, and unbeautiful thing. From the great shallow crater, many hundred feet in diameter, clouds of steam arise, making it not unlike a real volcano in effect. Freight-cars and locomotives grind back and forth on the sidings, carrying away the mined material; huge hydraulic pipes are woven across the mine space; and at one side an immense washer, resembling nothing so much as the structure of a scenic railway in an amusement park, blots out the sky-line.
But the active usefulness of any one phosphate-mine is short-lived. When its capacity for yielding the valuable commodity is reached (and phosphate is not generally found more than fifty feet below the surface), the mine is promptly abandoned. All the paraphernalia of mining is moved to another region and the gaping hole is left, a horrid blot in the beautiful Florida landscape. But nature seems to love that sunny land, and in a singularly short time she provides a wonderful remedy for the desecration. In a few weeks the great cavity has become filled with crystal-clear water. Vegetation creeps rapidly over the ravaged environs, and strangest of all, fish in shoals unnumbered find their way mysteriously into the new pool, doubtless through subterranean channels, making it a paradise for the angler. And so the unlovely mine has become a little gem of a lake,--the longer the scene has been deserted, the more attractive and alive with fish.
"Sydney," called Bernice presently to her cousin, now standing some fifty feet away, "I never saw anything to equal the fish in this pool! There are more of them and bigger than in any of the other pools you've shown me!"
"That's because this is an old pool," the boy replied. "I think they say it's the oldest mine-pool anywhere in this region. Hasn't been worked for twelve or fifteen years. Look at that bouncer over there! I'm going to get him!" He pointed to a large pike lazily floating by, about fifteen feet out from where he stood.
"But, Syd, you didn't bring your rod," retorted the girl. "How do you expect to get him without a line?"
"I told you I was going to show you something new when we came out to-day. I am. Just you watch!" He waited till the pike was well opposite where he stood on the bank. Then he raised his rifle to his shoulder, aimed at a point just underneath the fish, and fired. When the explosion and the resultant splash were over, the fish was seen floating on its back. It happened that the bank at this point shelved rather gradually out into the water. Sydney sprang in, waded almost to the top of his hip-boots, and caught the slippery body just as it had suddenly revived and was about to dive away. He bore it, still frantically flopping, to the shore and deposited it in his basket.
"Sydney!" gasped Bernice. "Where did you ever learn that?"
"A man that had hunted in Canada told me about it. It's a great trick. You only stun the fish, but if you don't get him double-quick he revives and gets away. Sometimes I bring a fishing-spear along and get them out that way. Hi! there's another--right close by!"
He was off again in a twinkling, eager for another catch, and Bernice sat up to watch him with keen interest. But this time he was not so successful. He overshot his mark, and his prize, when the water settled, was nowhere to be seen. After that he stood intent for a long time, waiting with sportsman's
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