"We'll just about get it in before the snow comes," agreed Williams,
scanning the sky with that anxiety to which Robin had grown very
familiar. "A Queen, you say? Well, what do you think of that!" He
laughed uproariously.
"We're not exactly _sure_, but we have our suspicions," corrected Beryl
in a freezing tone.
"And please don't tell a soul because we really have no right to force
ourselves on her if she wants to hide away," begged Robin.
Williams promised with a chuckle. "Funny kids," he said to himself,
enjoying, nevertheless, the adventure. "I'll do the sleuth stuff in the
corner store while you two are interviewing the Duchess--I beg pardon,
the Queen."
The girls left Williams, as he suggested, at the little store, while
they, tugging their basket between them, found and followed the path by
the Rushing Water. It was as alluring as ever--berries still clung to
the undergrowth, gleaming red against the dark of the fir trees; the
dead leaves underfoot crackled softly as though protesting their
intrusion; there was a whirring of wings and always the rush of the
water.
"I'd forgotten how spooky it was," cried Beryl, drawing in her breath.
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