The Treasure at Poldarrow Point (An Angela Marchmont Mystery) by Clara Benson Page A

the very idea is absurd.’
    ‘Then why did you say there might be ghosts?’
    ‘I didn’t.’
    ‘Yes you did, just now.’
    ‘I didn’t mean it. But I shall be glad to have you there all the same.’
    ‘Well, then, that’s settled,’ said Angela, with a vague feeling that she had missed something. ‘I shall come with you tomorrow and we shall spend the day looking for this necklace which may or may not exist.’
    ‘Of course it exists!’ said Barbara, on safer ground now. ‘It must be there somewhere, and I think there must be a clue in Preacher Dick’s journal as to its hiding-place. I’ll go and get it.’
    She ran into the house and returned with the battered old book.
    ‘It’s awfully difficult to read,’ she said as she peered at the crabbed writing.
    ‘Let me see,’ said Angela. She turned the leaves carefully, running her finger down each page as she did so. ‘Most of it appears to be lists of goods taken ashore and sold,’ she said at last. ‘Preacher Dick may have led an exciting life but I fear he lacked the gift of narrative. The most interesting part seems to be the story of the package, but the page is torn out there.’
    ‘I wonder what happened to it,’ said Barbara. Her eyes lit up. ‘I say!’ she said. ‘Do you think it had a map of the hiding place on it? If so, perhaps it was taken deliberately. Perhaps it was even stolen by the same person who wrote the anonymous letters.’
    ‘That doesn’t seem very likely,’ said Angela.
    ‘Let me see,’ said Barbara, and took the book back. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I believe the page has been torn out recently.’
    ‘Really?’ said Angela. She craned her neck to look. Sure enough, she saw that the torn edge of the paper that remained looked almost new and was a lighter colour than the rest of the leaves. ‘I believe you are right,’ she said in surprise. ‘That’s odd. But perhaps Miss Trout or Mr. Maynard did it themselves accidentally.’
    ‘Then why didn’t they mention it at the time?’ said Barbara. ‘They didn’t seem to know anything about it.’
    ‘That’s true,’ conceded Angela.
    ‘I knew it!’ said Barbara excitedly. ‘Someone else is after the necklace. Miss Trout must have shown the memoirs to someone and mentioned the family legend, and whoever it was decided to look for the treasure and keep it for himself. So he wrote those anonymous letters in order to frighten Miss Trout out of the house and allow him to get in and search it in his own time. I do hope he hasn’t already been into the house and found it.’
    ‘No, I don’t think he has,’ said Angela.
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because the last letter arrived only yesterday, remember? Presumably that means the thief hasn’t got his hands on it yet.’
    ‘Oh yes, I see,’ said Barbara. ‘Well, then, now that we know someone else is after the necklace, we must search all the harder for it and be sure to get there first.’
    Angela was about to say that they did not know for certain whether or not someone else was looking for the necklace, but thought better of it. It seemed useless to deny that Barbara was most likely right. Naturally, the girl knew nothing of Edgar Valencourt and his exploits, or that Scotland Yard was already on the case, but her reasoning was logical.
    ‘I wonder where it is,’ she said instead.
    ‘I have been thinking about that,’ said Barbara eagerly. ‘It can’t be locked in a cupboard or a drawer or anything like that, because someone would surely have found it by now if it’s been in the house for more than a hundred years. No, I think there is probably a secret panel somewhere, perhaps with a safe behind it.’
    ‘Yes, that’s certainly possible,’ said Angela. ‘I suppose we shall have to go and tap on all the walls.’
    ‘Perhaps there is another secret passage in the house,’ said Barbara.
    ‘Don’t you think one is enough?’
    ‘I like secret passages.’
    ‘What, even after getting trapped in one this