ON LITTLE CROW
Mae Ferrand was not on hand the next afternoon when the twins and Bob
Starling reached the Widow Deane’s. Mae, Polly informed them, had gone
to Poughkeepsie to spend Sunday with her grandmother. They decided
to go down to the river for their walk this afternoon, and were soon
descending Walnut Street. At the station they crossed the tracks,
passed the freight-shed, and went southward beside the river, blue and
sparkling in the spring sunlight. Then they had to return again to
the tracks and cross a bridge that spanned a narrow inlet. The inlet
connected the river with a shallow stretch of marsh and water known
as the Basin which lay between the tracks and the big rock-quarry.
The quarry was slowly but very surely removing the hill called Little
Crow, and the face of the quarry was fully eighty feet in height from
the boulder-strewn base to the tree-topped summit. It was here that
stone was being obtained for the work on which Mr. Starling’s company
was engaged. Spur-tracks ran from the railroad to the base of the high
cliff, about two hundred yards distant, and from the railroad again to
the stone-walled dock wherein the quarry company loaded to lighters for
water transportation. The Basin was a favorite place for skating in
winter, and Ned reminded the others of several episodes of three months
back.
“Remember the time Elk Thurston tried to get ashore over there by the
rushes?” asked Ned. “Every time he put his foot down the ice broke and
let him through.”
“And he got angrier and angrier,” laughed Polly, “and tried to hurry
and――”
“Fell flat,” chuckled Laurie. “They told him the ice wouldn’t hold him
over there, but he always knows a little more than any one else. And,
look, there’s the old _Pequot Queen_ over there yet. It’s a wonder some
one doesn’t take her away or break her up or something.”
“Nobody knows who she belongs to, I heard,” said Bob. “The old ferry
company went bust three or four years back, and the quarry company
can’t touch her because she isn’t theirs. I heard they had a bill for
dockage as long as my arm against the Queen, though.”
“Still, that’s the quarry dock she’s in,” said Ned, “and she must be
in the way there. I don’t see why they don’t push her out and let her
float down the river.”
“She’d be a menace to navigation,” replied Bob knowingly. “The law
would get them if they tried that.”
“Sort of like a fellow driving an automobile into your front yard and
leaving it there and going off,” laughed Laurie. “You couldn’t put it
out into the street because that would be against traffic rules and you
couldn’t take possession of it――”
“You could send it to a garage, though,” said Bob.
“Yes, and pay the garage bills!”
“The quarry folks could see that it got on fire accidently,” said Ned.
“It would only burn to the water-edge. The hull would be just as much
in the way as the whole thing,” objected Bob.
“I hope they’ll let it stay just where it is,” said Polly. “I’m
sure it comes in very handy when we come here skating. Remember that
perfectly ferocious day just after Christmas, Laurie, when we were all
nearly frozen and you made a fire in the――the fireplace――”
“Fireplace!” echoed Ned. “That’s corking!”
“Well, the――the――why, I don’t see why it isn’t a fireplace, Smarty.
It’s the place you build the fire, isn’t it?”
“Boiler,” said Bob.
“Well, anyway, it just about saved my feet from freezing right off,”
declared Polly. “And we had a lot of fun on the boat, and I hope no one
will do anything to it at all!”
“Guess you needn’t worry,” said Laurie. “Looks as if she’d stay right
here and rot to pieces. Guess she’s got a good start already.”
Their homeward way led them through the woods and around the slope of
Little Crow Hill, at first by an old wood-road and then by devious
trails through the now leafless forest. That was the nearer way, but
there was a longer, more arduous, and far more attractive route that
took them to the summit of Little Crow and laid the world at their
feet; for from above the face of the quarry they could look for miles
and miles up and down the broad river and across it and westward to
the rising foot-hills of the mountains. Since to-day was as clear as
a whistle and the air held that crisp quality that makes exertion a
pleasure, Bob’s suggestion that they go up to the top of the hill
was accepted with enthusiasm by Ned and Laurie. Polly, glancing
solicitously at her dress, hesitated. But she was, in the boys’
parlance, “a good sport,” and she didn’t want to spoil their fun. So
after a brief moment she, too, agreed, although with less enthusiasm,
and they turned northward from the wood-road and ascended, for a time
almost parallel to the railroad, a narrow path where the branches
clutched mischievously at Polly’s skirt and proved that she had had
cause for indecision.
Laurie led, with Polly next. For a while the going was not hard, but
then outcropping boulders set the path to twisting and winding, and
soon they were helping themselves upward by branches and setting
their feet carefully in the moist tangles of root and moss. It was
half-way up a more than usually severe stretch, when every muscle was
tense, that Laurie suddenly stopped short, turned about and exclaimed
“_Say!_” in such an unexpected and explosive burst of sound that Polly,
thrown from her balance by her attempt to avoid collision with Laurie,
and startled out of her wits, fell back against Ned. Only Bob’s prompt
support from the rear saved the situation. The three glared at the
offender in outrage.
“Say,” exclaimed Ned, “what do you want to do? Break all our necks?
What’s the matter with you, anyway, stopping like that and shouting
like a crazy man?”
Laurie stared back for an instant as though he neither saw Ned nor
heard him. Then his gaze fell and he turned away. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“But――but what was it?” gasped Polly. “Did you see a snake or――or
something?”
Laurie shook his head and began to climb again. “I just thought of
something,” he said.
“Well, for the love of lime-drops!” scolded his brother. “Don’t think
any more until we get to the top, you poor prune!”
They went on, but it wasn’t difficult to perceive that Laurie wasn’t
obeying Ned’s injunction. If he had been he wouldn’t have stumbled over
everything in his course and he wouldn’t have missed the path above
the big fern-clad rock near the summit and gone wandering off into the
brush all by himself until called back by the others. Ned observed him
pityingly as he sheepishly rejoined them.
“We’ll have to hold you when we get to the top,” said Ned crushingly.
“If we don’t you’ll probably walk right over the edge! What in the
world’s got into you?”
“Nothing,” answered Laurie, an absent expression possessing his
features again. “What are you stopping here for?”
“Well, there _is_ something,” said Ned accusingly, “and I know what it
is. You’ve got some crazy idea in your bean.” He turned to Polly. “He’s
always like that when he thinks he’s discovered something big, like
perpetual motion or――or how to make a million dollars. We’ll have to
watch him until he recovers, or he will do himself harm. You go first,
Bob, and I’ll keep an eye on him.”
The rest of the climb was accomplished without further incident, and
they at last emerged in a small cleared space at the top of the hill. I
don’t mean cleared in the sense of free from rubbish, for occasional
picnic-parties had offended against nature as they have a way of doing,
and the scanty grass was littered with paper and empty cracker-boxes
and an occasional bottle or tin. Ned viewed the scene disgustedly.
“Funny what human hogs some folks are,” he growled, kicking an empty
olive-bottle over the edge of the cliff. He paused until, after an
appreciable interval, the distant tinkling sound of breaking glass met
his ears. “It’s enough to make you sick. Folks who can’t stand a speck
of dust on their automobile will get out and eat their lunch and leave
the place looking like a pigsty. Ought to be brought back and made to
eat every scrap of the mess they leave behind them.”
“Right-o,” agreed Bob, “but I don’t believe these folks were
automobilists, Ned. It’s a long way up here from the road.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Ned, “whether they came in a car or walked;
they’re hogs just the same.”
“Well, let’s sit down and get our breaths,” said Polly, suiting action
to words. “That’s a perfectly frightful climb, isn’t it. I don’t think
I tore my dress, though.” She was making inspection and looked vastly
relieved as no damage showed.
“Better luck going down,” said Bob cheerfully, and Polly made a face at
him as he sprawled beside Ned. Laurie had not joined them on the grass,
but instead was lounging toward the edge of the cliff, his hands in his
pockets.
“Laurie, please don’t go so close,” called Polly from a dozen feet
away. “It makes me feel sort of squirmy.”
Perhaps Laurie didn’t hear her. He was very near the edge now, close by
a pine that leaned outward at an angle, its roots clinging to the thin
crust of earth that hid the rock beneath. Ned glanced toward him, and
an expression of disapproval came to his face.
“He thinks he’s smart,” he said contemptuously. “He’s always liked
to walk on roofs and act silly goat that way.” He raised his voice.
“_Laurie!_”
Laurie gave a start. “Yes?” he answered. Then――well, then everything
happened all at once and with incredible speed. They saw Laurie grasp
suddenly at the leaning tree, saw him miss it, saw one foot disappear
over the edge in a tiny cloud of brown dust, and then, in almost the
same instant, Laurie just wasn’t there!