"That will save time," said Arden. "We will wire him. You must need a rest."

"Oh, a rest will be most delightful," said the artist. "I must get in condition to finish-that." He waved toward the covered canvas.

"I haven't yet thanked you," murmured Arden.

"It is I who must thank you, dear young lady," and he murmured something in Russian, translating: "It is the subject, not the picture, to whom the artist is indebted."

The chief showed a desire to be gone. Doubtless to learn if that telephone from Clayton had come into his garage.

"We must be going," said Terry.

"But we shall see you again," added Sim.

"Marshlands will be a place for a real vacation, now that there is no mystery to solve," said Arden, laughing a little.

"I thank you." Dimitri bowed very formally. "And, if you will be so good, include in your telegram to my brother the fact that I am going to sell the snuffbox and give Olga the share she thinks she ought to have. Poor girl! She must not suffer because of my love for a relic. I shall sell the box."

"Oh," murmured Arden. "That lovely box!"

"It will still be lovely, no matter who possesses it," said Dimitri. "And now I must rest."

Truly he was very weary, for his imprisonment in the dank cellar had told on his nerves. But he said he needed no attention; that he and Tania would be all right for the remainder of their stay on the _Merry Jane_.

He did need a little fresh food, however, and Chief Reilly promised to bring some back in his motorboat.

So, with bows from Dimitri, tail-wagging from Tania, and hand-flutterings from the girls, while the chief demonstrated his gold-tooth grin, the visitors came away. They went back to get Terry's boat, and then the girls, being towed by the chief to the dock of "Buckingham Palace,"

hastened to tell Mrs. Landry the news.

"Well, fancy that!" she exclaimed. "I hope it is all true about Melissa."

It was true, as they learned a few days later, for a letter arrived from Emma Tash confirming everything, and with it there was a little note from Melissa. Of course Emma Tash knew nothing about the prisoner in the cellar, and Melissa was forced into silence by her father. She did not know, as a matter of fact, until the last few days of the imprisonment, that her father had captured Dimitri. If she had known, she probably would have told the girls.

"But everything is all right now," said Arden as she and her chums sat on the warm sands after a dip in the ocean.

"Yes," said Terry, "the mystery is over."

"And it was a good one while it lasted," declared Sim. "See what Arden gets out of it."

"What?" asked Arden, letting sand flow through her tanned fingers.

"Lovely picture."

"Oh, that!"

"Will your folks let you take it?" asked Terry.

"Oh, yes. They didn't make any fuss at all when I told them."

"I don't know what Dimitri would have done if they had," laughed Sim.

"Oh, he _is_ such an interesting character."

"So is the chief, if you come to that," spoke Terry.

"It's a long lane that has no back door," chuckled Arden. And then she ducked to avoid a clam sh.e.l.l tossed at her by Sim.

"In a way it's rather sad," said Terry dreamily, after a long, thoughtful pause.

"What?" asked Sim.

"Having a mystery end. I wonder if we'll ever be involved in another?"

"Maybe," said Sim.

And the girls were. In the succeeding volume, _The Hermit of Pirate Light_, will be told what happened when the girls spent another summer together.

Several times during the remainder of the season at Marshlands, Arden and her chums visited Dimitri at his houseboat. He finished Arden's portrait, which was later exhibited in New York, and the fact was made the occasion for a little party attended by Olga and Serge. Olga seemed a much different person, now that she had some money from the sale of the Czar's snuffbox, which brought a very large sum. Dimitri also gave his brother part of the price. As for himself, he never seemed to care about money.

"My art is everything," he said. Truly it seemed so.

Chief Reilly, who was a guest at the "picture party," as it was called, admitted that George Clayton had left a telephone message telling about his prisoner and urging that he be released.

"But, shucks," said the chief, "you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

"If he says that again," threatened Sim, "I'll run home."

But the chief didn't.

THE END