dear. It would be lonely all morning without you. I thought, after I
finished the dishes, I might walk over and see Mrs. William’s dog.
Wouldn’t you like to go along?”
But David only looked woebegone. Billy said: “Aw, let him come along.
I’ll take care of him.”
“Yes, Mom,” Janie pleaded, “There’s plenty of room, and I know he’ll be
quiet and good.” Mrs. Murray consented and the expedition was on its
way.
They wore sou’westers and raincoats. They took apples and cookies and
bait and a bottle of water. Billy and James rowed and Davey sat in the
front seat. Janie sat on the wide seat at the back and kept an eye on
the bait.
“Let’s go over to the pond,” she said. “I have a feeling that they
might be biting there.”
“Pond, ahoy,” called James, and they set out for the eastern shore of
the lake. There were other boats out, and the children occasionally
called out a greeting to a neighbor or a fishing acquaintance.
The boys took great sweeps with the oars, and the boat skimmed over
the smooth water. Davey called out a warning about the big submerged
rocks at the entrance to the pond, and Bill stood up and maneuvered the
boat through the shallow rocky channel. Then through the cattails, the
boat parted them as a comb parts hair. They swished and fell away at
either side, and now, the pond at last.
Every one reached for his fish pole and selected his bait carefully.
There was an almost church-like silence, broken only by the plop of the
sinkers hitting the water.
James had the first strike, a bass, and his shrill squeal of delight
must have been heard half way across the lake. He tossed it across to
Janie, who dropped it into the basket.
Bill caught the next bass and Janie got the third. Fishing was really
good, and in no time the basket was half full of flopping, slippery
bass.
Davey had been lying flat on his stomach across the front of the boat,
concentrating on some mysterious bubbles rising beside one of the big
flat rocks. All of a sudden he let out a yell, and every one turned to
see him pulling for all his might.
“Help! Help! Something is pulling my line away! Help! It’s awfully
strong.”
Billy was beside him in an instant and grabbed the line. James
fell down beside them and held Davey’s feet to keep him from going
overboard, and Janie added to the commotion by jumping up and down and
screaming: “Don’t tip the boat! Don’t tip the boat!”
Billy and Davey pulled with all their strength, and then out of the
water there appeared a great, thrashing rubber-backed turtle!
He was securely hooked at the side of his leathery jaw, and he glared
at his captors out of his little beady eyes, and he lashed the water
like a twenty pound carp.
“Pull him in! Pull him in,” screamed James.
“No, no,” screamed Janie. “He’ll bite us!”
Bill played out a little more line and said, reasonably, “Every body
sit down, and let’s figure out what to do.”
“He’s mine,” said Davey, in almost unbearable excitement. “I caught
him, and I’m going to bring him home.”
“Why don’t you let him go?” said James. “That hook must be hurting his
mouth.”
“Not so much as you think,” Janie offered. “I’ve heard Daddy say that
the skin around a fish’s mouth is very tough, and a turtle’s must be
even tougher. Anyway, we can’t get the hook out here, and we can’t cut
the line and let him go off by himself with the hook sticking in him. I
tell you what! Let’s tow him home!”
“Good idea,” exclaimed Bill, and they set about fastening the monster
to the back of the boat. He was about three feet long and two feet
across, and not at all agreeable. He tossed and yanked at the rope and
it took both Billy and David to fasten him to the boat, while Janie
rowed carefully out through the rocky channel. James waded behind,
urging him along with a stick. They wouldn’t have been able to do
anything with him at all, except that they made a sort of harness for
him out of a length of clothes line. Billy used his cub scout knots and
was quite proud of the result.
When they reached the main body of the lake James had to jump in, and
by that time it had stopped raining, and was as steaming hot as could
be. Rain coats and hats were quickly shed as they started back across
the lake for home.
Old rubber-back tussled away at the line for all he was worth, and
Billy was really worried. “You know,” he said, “I’ve read about boats
being towed out to sea by giant turtles.”
“Aw shucks, Bill, you read too much,” said James. “Besides that was in
the south seas. They have much bigger turtles there.”
“Just the same, I think this guy is pulling us off our course. I tell
you what. Let’s haul him in the boat, and then we can make better time.”
“Nix, nix, nothing doing, my friend,” came firmly from Janie. “I
promised Mom I’d see that Davey got home safely, and if you two boys
start hauling a turtle into the boat, anything might happen.”
“Golly, Jane,” said Bill. “We’ll never get home this way. I’m pulling
on the oars just as hard as I can, and he pulls as hard as he can in
the opposite direction.”
The turtle settled it. Just as they spoke, he gave a lurch that pulled
the boat out toward the center of the lake. Janie looked concerned.
“Okay,” she said, “but please let’s be careful.”
Davey sat down in his place on the front seat and Janie took the oars,
while the two boys knelt on the wide seat at the back, and rolled up
their sleeves for the big pull. They braced themselves and pulled for
all they were worth, and the old turtle came slowly up until his nose
was against the boat. James reached down and grabbed him at one side
of his shell and then Bill got the other side, and with a mighty heave
they hauled him over the edge, and thrust him back into the boat. There
he lay on his back, helpless, with his legs frantically clawing in all
directions, and his wicked mouth opening and shutting.
Janie clung to the oars like mad and as the turtle hit the floor boards
her feet flew up in the air, and one leg was perched safely at either
rail of the boat. Davey was goggle-eyed and Bill was the first to
recover his speech. He clapped Janie on the shoulder:
“Relax skipper. You can put your feet down now. He won’t bite you.
He’s helpless as long as he’s flat on his back.”
“Oh no,” quavered Janie. “I’m taking no chances,” and she pulled her
knees up under her chin.
“Well, all right then,” said Bill. “You get up there in front with
Davey and I’ll row. It’s going to be hard rowing with so much weight at
one end, but there’s no use telling you to walk past ‘old rubber-back’
to get to your seat.”
Janie gratefully gave up her position at the oars and went to sit with
Davey at the front. “Golly, Jane,” he said. “What do you think of him?
Isn’t he giant?”
“He sure is, honey,” said Jane, patting him on the back. “He sure is.”
They were coming along the eastern shore of the lake now and the steamy
heat was making everyone thirsty. “Any water left back there, James?”
called Bill.
“No, not a drop. I’m thirsty too.”
Billy took a long look at the distant pier that meant home and wet his
lips.
“Boy, I’m thirsty. I tell you what let’s do. There’s a pump in the
front yard of the haunted house. Let’s stop there and get a cold drink.”
This suggestion was strongly approved by the others, and Billy turned
in at the ramshackle pier of the deserted house. Folks around Oak Lake
called it the Mott place, but Dad said that no one had lived there for
forty or fifty years. Ben, the handy man, said it was haunted, and
Janie always shivered a little as she went past it, even on a bright
sunny day like this one. It was a full three stories high, with turrets
and gables and balconies. The decorations around the eaves looked like
the ornamental icing on a wedding cake. It must have been very grand
when it was new and nicely cared for. You could still see the outlines
of the old gardens, but the flowers were long since choked out by the
tall weeds. There was a fountain in the front yard too, rusty and dry.
The figure of a little girl stood in the top basin. She was fat and
dimpled and she held a protesting duck in her arms ... an iron one, of
course. She must have stood there summer and winter for fifty years,
and yet, somehow she didn’t look lonesome or unhappy. Ben said there
used to be an elaborate group of stables on the place, but they burned
down long ago. All that was left of the out-buildings was a small shack
covered with tar paper. There was an evergreen windbreak all along the
north side of the property, and the branches swayed and sighed in the
wind. Janie really shivered this time.
“B’r’r’r,” she said. “This is the lonesomest place I ever saw. Let’s
get out of here.”
“Aw,” said James, “you always talk just like a girl.” “There’s the
pump,” called Bill. “I see it down there in those tall weeds. I’m so
thirsty, I could drink a gallon.”
The boat nosed into the pier, and Davey was the first to step ashore.
He raced over the wobbly boards and toward the pump calling, “First
drink! First drink!”
Janie was at his heels and the boys stopped only long enough to fasten
the boat and pick up the water bottle. Janie pumped until the water ran
cold, and they splashed their faces with it and took long drinks.
Bill filled the bottle, and they started back for the boat, when
suddenly out of the tumble down shack there appeared a big, ragged and
dirty man. He waved his arms in the air and shouted at them,
“Get out of here, you trespassers, you! Get out of here or I’ll whale
the daylights out of you!”
The children just stood for a moment, too frightened to move. He
started toward them, waving a stick and shouting, and Janie said, “The
boat! Hurry, we must get to the boat.”
They ran like the wind, and long-legged James got there first and had
the boat untied in the wink of an eye.
The horrid man was gaining on them now, still shouting and waving his
stick in the air. Janie leaped over the turtle and grabbed one oar and
Billy took the other. James held Davey.
“Push, James! Push! We’re stuck,” yelled Bill frantically. James
reached out to grab the pier and push the boat off, and just then there
was a violent commotion in the weeds. Charging down upon them in full
fury came a wicked looking goat. His head was lowered and his sharp
curled horns were thrust out. James pushed desperately to loosen the
boat, and the weight of the goat and the shove were all the rackety old
pier could take.
It collapsed into the water with a great splash, and down went the goat
in a tangle of horns and whiskers and loose boards. The children gasped
and then James screamed,
“Row! Row for your life!” And the boat shot out into the lake and out
of reach of the bedraggled goat and the angry man.
They made the distance home in record time, and almost cried with
relief when at last they reached their own pier.
“Boy!” said Billy. “That was a close one. I’ll never go near that place
again.”
_Chapter Five_
_Grandma Always Brought Presents_
[Illustration]
Davey wanted to carry the turtle in single handed, but he was voted
down and instead he was given the honor of bringing Mom down to
surprise her.
“Old rubber-back” had been turned right side up again, and he sat
quietly on the floor boards, all tired out from his struggle. Mom came
hurrying down, escorted by the beaming Davey.
“Where’s the turtle?” she called.
“Oh, my goodness, it’s as big as a house!”
“Why it’s immense!”
“How did you ever land him?”
“What will Dad say?”
Everyone answered at once and even Mrs. Landry, their neighbor, came
over to see the catch. She volunteered the use of her big wash tub as a
temporary tank. A man who was visiting at Williams took the fish hook
out of the turtle’s jaw, and after that he seemed quite contented in
his new home. They decided to keep him until Daddy could get out to see
him.
Everyone raced for the porch when Mom mentioned food. They were
sprawled about in comfortable chairs finishing their lunch and laughing
and talking, when all of a sudden Janie exclaimed,
“Mom, something awful happened this afternoon.”
Then she told of their adventure at the deserted house. Mom looked
serious. “Oh dear, you must never go near that place again. That man is
sort of an old hermit. He lives there in a chicken coop with his goat.
You must be kind to him, but it would be a good idea to keep out of his
way.”
“Don’t worry, Mom, we will,” said Billy, and the others agreed.
By and by the boys drifted out to the front yard to play ball. Mom sat
in the lawn swing watching the sunset, and Janie read the evening paper.
Far down the road there appeared a small black car. It came closer and
closer around the curve, and finally stopped at the Murray gate.
“Toot Toot!”
“Grandma!”
“Aunt Claire!”
“Daddy rode out with them!”
“We have the little cottage all ready for you!”
In the midst of all the excited greeting Mom said, “Let’s go down to
the porch. Janie, you make a pot of tea for your grandmother. Boys, you
help with the boxes and bags.”
There never was anything like Grandma and Aunt Claire moving out to
the lake for the season. In addition to the normal load the car held
a portable sewing machine, a portable phonograph, Aunt Claire’s oil
paints and her water colors. There were boxes of yarn for knitting,
sewing materials, and stacks of magazines containing serial stories
that Grandma hadn’t quite finished reading in town. There was Aunt
Claire’s fishing tackle, her camera, and Grandma’s canary bird. There
were always presents for everyone, and this time was no exception.
After Grandma had finished her tea and everyone had inspected and
admired “old rubber-back”, the family was assembled once more and the
presents were handed out. Mom was first. She received a wide brimmed
garden hat. Janie got a new swimming suit. Billy and James each got an
elaborate cowboy holster with toy guns, and David found a catching mitt
in his package.
Butch had a present too, but where was he? They looked all over the
cottage and couldn’t find him. Davey was getting frightened.
“Oh, I hope he didn’t run out on the road,” he said. “He’ll get run
over for sure.”
“Come on folks,” called Dad. “Everybody out for the big monkey hunt.”
The family spread out in the front yard calling, “Butch!” “Oh Butch!”
Davey was the first to hear the answering monkey chatter and he called
the rest. There was the missing rascal, sitting on the big turtle and
riding round and round in the old wash tub!
It was wonderful to have the whole family together again. In the
excitement of catching the turtle and losing Butch, the purse on the
cottage roof was almost forgotten, but not quite. James remembered, and
his eyes grew large.
“Daddy” he cried. “Daddy! Butchie found a purse, and he hid it up on
the roof of the little cottage.”
By that time the children were gathered around Dad and were all talking
at once.
“Please get it down for us!”
“Mom wouldn’t let us go up there.”
“Please Daddy, can we get it now?”
“Daddy, may I go up with you?”
“Let me, Daddy, please!”
Daddy laughed and put up his arms to defend himself. “Help, help!” he
cried. He finally got the story all straightened out, and he was very
much interested.
“Just wait till I get some old work pants on,” he said, “and I’ll go up
there and look for it while it’s still daylight.”
Billy ran to get a ladder, and the rest of the family gathered around
to watch the excitement. Daddy soon came bounding up the rock garden
steps in his old work pants. They were frayed and faded and there were
spots of at least six different colors of paint, not counting cement,
varnish and chair mending glue, but they were Dad’s favorite pants.
He called to Davey. “Send that rascal Butch up here,” he said. He
climbed up to the roof of the porch. Butchie scampered up after him,
but either he had forgotten where he hid the purse, or else he didn’t
want Daddy to find it, because they looked and looked, and Daddy even
pried up pieces of roofing, but there was no purse.
“Are you sure he put it up here?” Daddy asked. Billy and Jane said,
“Oh yes, Daddy. It’s surely there, because we saw him carry it up, and
Mom was here when he came down. He had it going up, and he didn’t have
it coming down. It’s surely there.”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said in a baffled sort of way. “Here,
catch Butch,” he said, “I’m coming down.”
Butch scurried down the drain pipe, disdaining the ladder. Just as
Daddy was about to start down, he hesitated and turned back for just
one more look.
He walked over to where the roof of the porch joined the walls of the
cottage, and he peered up under the eaves. He squinted his eyes and
reached up to feel for an opening. Just then there was an angry roaring
like the motors of hundreds of tiny airplanes, and Daddy came down the
ladder even faster than Butch had come down the drain pipe. He ran for
the front cottage like someone possessed.
“Wasps,” he whooped without slackening his speed or turning his head.
He was gone in such a hurry that they all stood gaping after him.
Mr. Landry, who had been strolling down the road, stopped still in
amazement. He took his pipe out of his mouth and said to Mom, “You
know, Mrs. Murray, I didn’t know that a big man like your husband could
run that fast.”
“He probably did break a record,” Mom said, “but he was urged on by a
nest of wasps.”
They hurried down to the cottage to find Daddy safe behind the screen
door. His frustrated pursuers had scattered angrily and given up the
chase.
“Whew,” he gasped. “I haven’t had so much exercise since the time the
Indians chased me out of town.”
“Did the Indians chase you out of town?” asked Davey. “Tell us about
it.”
Daddy laughed. “I was only fooling,” he said, “but those wasps weren’t.
Boy! Did I have a close shave! I tell you what we’ll do. Wait till the
next time I come out, and I’ll get set for those man-eating monsters.
If there’s a purse up on that roof, I’ll get it down. But--” and he
wagged his finger all around the porch, “don’t any of you try to get
up there while I’m gone. You all saw what almost happened to me. It’s
much too dangerous.” One by one the faces, all solemn now, nodded in
agreement.
The sun slipped down behind the woods on the west shore. Grandma and
Aunt Claire went back to the little cottage to unpack.
“Tell us about the time you were chased by Indians, Daddy,” said the
persistent David.
“No, Dad,” said Jane. “Please tell us about the deserted house.”
“Do you really want to hear about the deserted house?” asked Dad,
pulling David off his shoulders. “I think maybe I could tell you a
story about that.”
Janie sat at his feet, and David sat on the arm of his chair. “Well,”
he began, “it happened a long time ago. Perhaps sixty or seventy years
ago. You know, Oak Lake is a modest place. It always has been. But,
just that once, while the Motts lived here it had an air of fashion and
frivolity, like stardust sprinkled on bread and butter.
“There was a father and a mother, two pretty little girls that always
wore handmade dresses that were made in Paris, and one son. Mr. Mott
was a wealthy man, but he had no desire for the rush and competition of
the great cities, so he brought his family here to Oak Lake to live.
I’ve often thought of how amazed the people around here must have been
to see that fine mansion rising in their midst. ‘Mott’s Madness’ they
called it. There were stables with thoroughbred horses and a private
race track, and a house full of servants.
“Even though they were far away from their friends they entertained in
grand style. Twice a year they’d have a party, and their guests arrived
from the east in a private car. Why, they even had their own school
house. It was a comfortable two-story building a little distance away
from the main house, and the governess lived in it.
“The children used to come there every day to study and to practice.
One day the two little girls got off by themselves, and waded out into
the lake. They didn’t know how to swim, and they drowned. The governess
became frantic when she heard their cries, and in trying to save them,
she drowned. It was terrible. The mother and father grieved so that
they never wanted to see Oak Lake again. They packed their things, and
took their son with them. They just walked out and never came back.
Everything is the way they left it. It must be almost fifty years now
since they went away, but there are dried roses in a vase in the old
parlor. There’s an open book on a sofa, left as it was when the reader
was interrupted by the cries from the lake. I’m not sure, but I think
that the old man who lives there now is their son. He has had a lot of
trouble. The family lost all their money. He’s involved in one law suit
after the other. It’s no wonder he hates lawyers. After a long time he
came back here to live, but he never lived in the big house. He lives
in the chicken coop.”
Janie shivered. “Oh Daddy, how perfectly awful. Couldn’t someone do
something for him, so he wouldn’t have to live in a chicken coop?” Dad
smiled. “Folks have tried to help him,” he said, “but the old fellow is
proud and touchy, and he wants to be left alone.”
“He sure does,” exclaimed Billy. “I’ll never forget how he chased us
out of there.”
“Keep out of his way,” Daddy said. “That’s the best way to get along
with him.” He picked Davey up and carried him to bed. Janie looked at
Mom and drew her brows together.
“Mom,” she said. “Do you suppose that’s one of Dad’s stories, or do you
suppose that’s really true?”
Mom cut off the end of her thread. “As far as I know,” she said, “that
was all absolutely true.”
After a while they wandered back to see how Grandma and Aunt Claire
were getting settled. Janie blinked for a moment. The mountainous load
was gone and everything was in place.
“Grandma, you’re a wonder,” she exclaimed. “How did you get everything
put away so fast?”
Grandma was sitting in her rocking chair, crocheting. The bowl of
pansies stood on the table beside her, and her canary chirped over her
head. “Petey helped me,” she said, nodding at the canary, “and Aunt
Claire helped too.”
Aunt Claire was puzzled about the glass of lemonade beside her bed, and
Jane explained.
“Well, it was like this. I picked the pansies for Grandma’s bedside
because she likes them so much, and Davey felt that he wanted to do
something too. He fixed a glass of lemonade for beside your bed, so
that you would have a welcoming present too. I think by now it should
be quite stale, but he was happy about it.”
Aunt Claire was touched. “Why the darling,” she said. “I’d drink it
gladly, but there seems to be just a tiny spider web across the top. I
know what we’ll do. We’ll use it to water Grandma’s window box. Lemons
are chock full of vitamins. It should do the geraniums a lot of good.”
So, into the geraniums went Davey’s lemonade. All that summer Janie
noticed that they did exceptionally well.
_Chapter Six_
_Buick, the Detective_
[Illustration]
Jane sat on the watching post swinging her legs and braiding clover.
A small truck stopped at the Saunders’ place next door, and Ben, the
handy man who did odd jobs for Mrs. Saunders, got out and lugged a lawn
mower after him.
“Hi, Ben,” called Janie. “Is Mrs. Saunders coming out?”
“Hi there, Janie,” Ben called back, and stopped to get his pipe lit.
“Yep,” he said. “My wife got a card from Mis’ Saunders just this
morning. Says she’s coming out for a few days, and we should cut the
grass and tidy the place up a bit. Don’t see what tidying up there’d be
to do. The place hasn’t been touched. Not a soul in it since last fall
when she was here last, but womenfolks are always drivin’ a man crazy
by thinking up work. Washing windows, and cuttin’ grass, and dustin’.
Land sakes, it’s enough to kill a man. And me with my back.”
Down the embankment he went with the lawn mower whirring in front of
him. Janie couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she could still see
the scowl on his face.
“Poor Ben,” she laughed. “If only he didn’t have to work.” She jumped
off the watching post, and started off for the garden. “Before I laugh
at Ben,” she thought, “I’d better get my own work done.” She weeded
four rows of beans, and piled some dry grass cuttings around the base
of the tomato plants. Then she sat under the mulberry tree and watched
a mother wren dart back and forth feeding her brood on bits of juicy
red mulberry. “I guess I’ll try one myself,” she thought. She did, but
it was still tart, and not quite ripe.
“Help yourself, Mrs. Wren,” she said. “I hope your babies like them
better than I do.”