The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

the laws of Spain, then we shall have a solid fact upon which to base our fight.”
    “There is such a proof,” began Ricky slowly.
    “What? Where?” demanded Mr. LeFleur.
    “Don’t you remember, Val,” she turned to him, “what Rupert said about the Luck last night—that the names of the heirs were engraved upon its blade? We’ll have to find the Luck! We’ll just have to!”
    “But Roderick took the Luck with him. And if it’s still in existence, this rival will have it now,” her brother reminded her.
    “Yes, of course, I was forgetting—” her voice trailed off into silence and Val stared at her with a dropped jaw. Such a quick change of manner was totally unlike Ricky. “Yes,” she repeated slowly and distinctly, “I guess we’re the losers—”
    “For Pete’s sake—” he began hotly and then he saw her hand making furious motions in his direction from behind the screen of her large purse. “Well, I suppose we are in a hole.” He managed to mend his tone a fraction. “Rupert will probably be in to see you tomorrow, Mr. LeFleur.”
    “It would be well for him to become acquainted with the whole matter as quickly as possible,” agreed the unhappy Creole. “You may tell Mr. Ralestone that I am, of course, having this claimant thoroughly investigated. We shall have to wait and see. Time is a big factor,” he murmured as if to himself.
    Ricky smiled brightly. There was a sort of eagerness about her, as if she were wild to be off. “Then we’ll say good-bye for the present, Mr. LeFleur. And may I mention again how much we have appreciated your thoughtfulness?”
    René LeFleur aroused himself. “But it was a pleasure, a very great pleasure, Miss Ralestone. You are returning to Pirate’s Haven now?”
    “Well—” she hesitated. Mystified at what lay behind her unexplainable actions, Val could only stand and listen. “We did have some errands. Of course, this news—”
    LeFleur gestured widely. “But it will come all right. It must. There are papers somewhere.”
    Firmly Ricky broke away from more protracted farewells. As the Ralestones turned out of the courtyard into which their host had conducted them, Val matched his step with hers.
    “Well? What’s the matter?” he demanded.
    “We had an eavesdropper.”
    Val stopped short. “What do you mean?”
    “I was facing the door to the balcony. There was the shadow of a head on the floor. When you spoke about Rick having the sword, it went away—the shadow, I mean. But someone had been listening and now he knows about the Luck and what it means to us.”
    Aiming a kick at the nearest tire of the roadster, Val regarded the mud-stained rubber moodily. “Fine mess!”
    “Yes, isn’t it? And there seems to be no loose end to the thing,” Ricky protested. “It’s like holding a big tangle of wool and being told to have it all straightened out before night—the plot of a fairy-tale. We have so many odd sections but no ends. There’s that boy in the garden this morning who said that he has as much right at Pirate’s Haven as we have, and then there’s that handkerchief, and now this man who claims half the estate—”
    “And our mysterious listener,” finished her brother. “What shall we do now? Go home?”
    “No. We might as well do the errands.” She seated herself in the car. “Val—”
    “Yes?”
    “I know one thing.” She leaned toward him and her eyes shone green as they did when she was excited or greatly troubled. “We aren’t going to let go of our tangle until we do find an end. We are the Ralestones of Pirate’s Haven and we are going to continue to be the Ralestones of Pirate’s Haven.”
    “In spite of the enemy? I agree.” Val stepped on the starter. “You know, a hundred years ago there would have been a very simple remedy for this rival-claimant business.”
    “What?”
    “Pistols for two—coffee for one. Rupert or I would have met him out at the dueling oaks and that would have been the end of him.”
    “Or you. But dueling—here!”
    “Very common. The finest fencing masters on the North American continent plied their trade here. Why, one, Pepe Llula, the most famous duelist of his time, became the guardian of a cemetery just so, as gossip rumored, he could have some place to bury his opponents.
    “Then on the other hand, if dueling were too risky, we might have had him voodooed, had we lived back in the good old days. Paid that voodoo queen—what was her name? Marie something