TOMMY LONG HAS A BAD DAY
It was all in the papers one evening about detectives from Centerport's
police headquarters, aided by the park police, beating the eastern end
of Cavern Island, and the caves as well, for poor Short and Long.
Reporters had accompanied the expedition; but they rather made fun of
the crowd of police searching so diligently for one small boy. It was
suggested in the news stories that the efforts of the officers might
better be aimed at finding the burglars themselves instead of chasing a
frightened youngster who was supposed to have helped the real criminals.
The only thing the police succeeded in doing was to pick up two men who
were fighting. These were Tony Allegretto, who had a concession at the
amusement park, and another Italian.
The fight might have been a serious matter had not the police came upon
the men when they did. Tony had already drawn a knife. The papers
reported that Tony and his monkey were shut up together in the park
calaboose waiting for court to sit the next morning. The other Italian
had been sent off the island and warned to keep away.
But no trace of Short and Long was found during the police search. Mr.
Norman, the boat builder, raised the sunken rowboat Billy had borrowed,
however, and brought it back to his landing.
The Lockwood twins chanced to be passing Mr. Norman's place when the old
boat arrived, and they walked down the long dock to look at it.
"No sign of anything wrong having happened to little Billy," said Mr.
Norman. "He tied this old craft, and she filled after a time and sank,
breaking the painter, which was a long one. That's all that happened. I
don't care about the boat a mite; I only wish I knew what has become of
the poor little chap."
"They've just chased him away from home," said Dorothy. "Billy Long
never helped those burglars."
"Of course he didn't," said Mr. Norman. "That's what _I_ say. Only folks
who don't know the boy will say they believe the police."
"And don't you believe Billy is over there on the island?" asked Dora.
"No. He's got away. He's a sharp boy, Billy is, and next thing you'll
hear of him, he'll be off working somewhere and sending his folks home a
part of his wages, believe me! I know Billy Long," said the
boat-builder.
The Longs lived not far from the Lockwood cottage, and the twins went
around through their street. This was on one of those rare days when
Alice Long, the oldest sister and the "mother" of the Long family,
stayed at home from the box factory to "catch up" in her housework.
Until Mrs. Long died, two years before, Alice had gone to Central High,
too, and she was a smart and intelligent girl. But she was a faithful
one, as well, and she kept the home together for Mr. Long and the
younger children, despite the fact that she could spend only a day once
in a while at home. A younger girl did many of the ordinary household
tasks, as well as looking after Master Tommy Long, an active piece of
mischief now four years old.
As the twins came up the walk before the little cottage they heard Tommy
bellowing at the top of his lungs--and they were perfectly sound lungs,
too!
"What have you got in here--a lion?" asked Dorothy, putting her head in
at the open door.
"Better say a monkey!" exclaimed Alice, much exasperated.
She was just then hustling Tommy across the floor so rapidly that the
toes of his shoes scarcely touched the carpet. Upstairs she went with
struggling, roaring Master Tommy, and in another moment he was shut into
a bedroom and the key turned in the lock.
"There!" gasped Alice, coming back and sitting down, after placing
chairs for her visitors. "You think I'm rather harsh with the little
plague? You don't know what he's done to-day."
"Has he been _very_ bad?" asked the tender-hearted Dorothy.
"I should say he has!"
"What's he done?" demanded Dora.
"It has certainly been one of Tommy's 'bad days.' You'd think he was
possessed. Poor mother! I can imagine the trouble she used to have with
Billy."
"But what did Tommy do?" asked Dorothy, bent on trying to plead for the
culprit, who was now alternately roaring and kicking the panels of the
door upstairs.
"One thing he did was to pour sand into my tub of clothes that I had to
leave this morning. He called the tub 'Lake Luna' and said he wanted to
make an island in the middle of it, like Cavern Island where Billy is
hidden."
"Oh!" gasped Dorothy.
"I had to clean out the tub and rinse the clothes half a dozen times to
get the sand out."
"But, Billy!" exclaimed Dora. "They say he isn't over at that island."
"Well, I wish I knew where he was," sighed the worried sister.
Just then Tommy stopped yelling and spoke in a shrill, but perfectly
plain tone:
"Sis! I'm a-goin' to bust a winder and fall out, I am!"
"Oh!" ejaculated Dorothy, jumping up. "He'll be hurt."
But Alice put forth a restraining hand to stop her before she could flee
to the rescue.
"Don't bother. He doesn't want to jump himself. Tommy is bluffing."
"Bluffing!" gasped Dora. "Did you ever? I should be scared to death that
the little scamp would do it."
"I used to be," sighed Alice. "Now I know better. I came to realize that
Tommy was taking advantage of my love for him--and he's got to learn
better than that."
"Isn't he a scamp?" whispered Dorothy.
In a few moments, after silence from the "chamber of torture," the
shrill voice cried again:
"Sis! I've found the matches an' I'm a-goin' to set fire to the
curtains--now you see!"
The twins gazed upon the calm face of Alice with wide-open eyes. Alice
went on talking without showing the first signs of fear that Master
Tommy would keep his pledge. She was resting after a hard day's work,
and she enjoyed having her old schoolmates drop in to see her.
After further silence, the boy's shrill voice took up the cry again:
"Sis! don't you smell sumfin burnin'?"
"I _do_ believe I smell something burning--cloth, or something,"
whispered the nervous Dorothy, sniffing.
"It's an old black rag I put in the kitchen fire, without opening the
damper," said Alice, coolly.
"Suppose he _has_ got the matches?" demanded Dora.
"There are none in that room," returned Alice, placidly.
"Goodness me!" gasped Dorothy. "I wouldn't have a boy around for a
farm!"
Again came the wail from above:
"If you don't smell nothin', Sis, it's 'cause I pulled off all the match
heads an' swallered 'em! I'm goin' ter die--I'se p'izened, Sis!"
"Why! what a dreadful little scamp he is," gasped Dorothy.
Alice jumped up, with her lips set tightly. She ran into the kitchen,
from which she returned in a moment with a cup of warm water and
mustard.
"He's got to be taught a lesson," declared the much troubled sister,
with decision, and she marched upstairs.
"Now, Tommy, if you have swallowed matchheads, you must take this,"
declared Alice Long, and when Master Tommy, now rather disturbed by the
prospect of the ill-smelling cup, tried to escape, she got his head "in
chancery," held his nose until he opened his mouth, and made him swallow
the entire mess.
It was certainly a bad dose, and its effects were almost immediate and
quite surprising to Master Tommy. The twins waited below stairs while
the trouble continued; and finally down came Alice with Master Tommy--a
much sadder, wiser, and humbled youngster--by the hand.
"I--I'm going to be a good boy," announced Master Tommy, making a wry
face.
"I should think you would," Dora said, trying to be severe.
"That's all right," grumbled Tommy, turning to Dorothy for comfort. "I
didn't swaller any matchheads."
"Why did you say you did?" asked Dorothy.
"Just to plague Alice. But I won't do it again. Ugh! that was nasty
stuff she gave me. That's what she'd give me if I _was_ p'izened. I
don't want to be p'izened," declared the little fellow, frankly.
"And you don't want to say what isn't so, either, eh?" queried Dora.
"We-ell," said Master Tommy, slowly, "lots of things that _ain't_ so, is
better than them that _are_ so. There's fairy stories."
"Quite right," said Dora, quickly. "But there's nightmares, too--bad
dreams, you know. They are not so, but they aren't pleasant to dream,
are they?"
"Oh, no!" cried Tommy. "And I had a turrible bad dream--onct! And I was
scart--yes, sir! And Billy heard me crying and he took me out of my crib
and took me into bed with him."
Alice smiled. "I remember Tommy told about that. He said the cats got to
fighting and were scratching and biting him."
"And Billy woked me up and took me to bed with him," said Tommy,
placidly. "I wish Billy would come home again."
"When did this happen?" asked Dorothy, quickly, trying to turn the
conversation from an unpleasant topic, as Alice's eyes filled with
tears.
"Just the other night," said Tommy.
"But Billy's been away two weeks."
"It was jes' afore he went-ed away."
"It wasn't long before Billy went," agreed Alice, nodding.
"I know when!" cried Tommy. "It was the night afore I felled and scraped
my knee on the doorstep."
"Why, Tommy!" cried his sister, springing out of her chair. "Are you
sure of that?"
"Yes'm. I be sure," declared Tommy. "I dreamed the cats were scratchin'
me; an' then that very nex' mornin' the old doorstep scratched me!"
cried the small boy.
Alice turned to her visitors, her face pale in her earnestness.
"Oh, girls!" she cried. "I remember that night of Tommy's dream very
well. He hurt his knee on Wednesday--the morning following the burglary.
Billy took Tommy into bed with him before midnight, and they slept
together all night. Doesn't that prove that Billy was not out of the
house on the night of the burglary? Doesn't it?"
Dora and Dorothy looked at each other, and each slowly shook her head.
"Do you suppose the police would accept Tommy's testimony?" Dora asked,
sadly.