lf his
attention.

"Is that for _Drums of Doom_?" he asked becoming suddenly crisp and
professional.

"Yes."

"Might do for the jacket of the book. Have Mr. Richards see this.
Marvelous types, where did you get them?" he continued, looking from the
canvas to Ricky and Val.

"Oh, I am sorry. Miss Ralestone, may I present Mr. Creighton, and Mr.
Holmes, both of New York. And this," she smiled at Val, "is Mr. Valerius
Ralestone, the brother of the owner of this plantation. The family, I
believe, has lived here for about two hundred and fifty years."

Creighton's manner became a shade less brusque as he took the hand Ricky
held out to him. "I might have known that no professional could get that
look," he said.

"Then this isn't your place?" Mr. Holmes said to Charity after he had
greeted the Ralestones.

"Mine? Goodness no! I rent the old overseer's house. Pirate's Haven is
Ralestone property."

"Pirate's Haven." Judson Holmes' infectious grin reappeared. "A rather
suggestive name."

"The builder intended to name it 'King's Acres' because it was a royal
grant," Val informed him. "But he was a pirate, so the other name was
given it by the country folk and he adopted it. And he was right in
doing so because there were other freebooters in the family after his
time."

"Yes, we are even equipped with a pirate ghost," contributed Ricky with
a mischievous glance in her brother's direction.

Holmes fanned himself with his hat. "So romance isn't dead after all.
Well, Charity, shall we stay--in town I mean?"

"Why?" a thin line appeared between her eyes as if she had little liking
for such a plan.

"Well, Creighton is here on the track of a mysterious new writer who is
threatening to produce a second _Gone with the Wind_. And I--well, I
like the climate."

"We'll see," muttered Charity.

CHAPTER X

INTO THE SWAMP

In spite of the fact that they received but lukewarm encouragement from
Charity, both Holmes and Creighton lingered on in New Orleans. Mr.
Creighton made several attempts to get in touch with Jeems, whom he
seemed to suspect of concealing vast literary treasures. And he spent
one hot morning going through the trunk of papers which the Ralestones
had found in the storage-room. Ricky commented upon the fact that being
a publisher's scout was almost like being an antique buyer.

Holmes was a perfect foil for his laboring friend. He lounged away his
days draped across the settee on Charity's g