At last she made out the Mason house, but wisely stopped half a block down the street to park. Alighting from the car, she glanced up at the sky for the first time and noticed the gathering murkiness.
“I believe there’s going to be a storm,” she thought uncomfortably.
Glancing toward the west she saw that the sun was setting behind a bank of black clouds. In a very few minutes it would be dark.
Nancy glanced toward the old house and involuntarily shuddered. Though she was not afraid of Mary Mason, she preferred to meet her in broad daylight. The old house, which from the front appeared deserted, was not an inviting place to visit after dark.
Nancy walked swiftly up the street and paused to survey the dilapidated house. Had she not seen Mary enter the building, she would not have believed it possible that such a place was inhabited.
“It’s evident the girl doesn’t want anyone to know she lives here,” Nancy thought.
She was about to go up to the front door when a sudden thought came to her. Walking to the back of the house, she surveyed the yard curiously. It sloped down to the river and Nancy was quick to see a path leading from the house to the water front. Following it, she came to an improvised dock.
“I’m sure this path has been used recently,” she reasoned. “Otherwise it would be overgrown with weeds. I wonder who has been landing at this old dock?”
The faint chug-chug of a motorboat caused her to glance out toward the river. Some distance down the stream she saw a high-powered boat cutting through the water and apparently heading for the very spot where she was standing. Quickly, she stepped back into the tall bushes.