A TURTLE RACE
At first, Miss Gordon and the Brownie Scouts could not believe that
anyone had stolen the wrist watch.
“I must have dropped it somewhere in the sand,” murmured the teacher.
Mrs. Williams and the Brownies looked carefully beneath the beach
umbrella. Miss Gordon removed her beach robe and shook it. But the
missing watch could not be found.
“I’m certain I put it in the pocket of this robe not a half hour ago,”
the teacher declared. “When I went in swimming I left it lying on the
sand. Oh, dear, I should have checked the watch at the bathhouse. I
kept it because I wanted to keep track of the time.”
“I can’t believe anyone would steal the watch,” insisted Connie’s
mother. “Certainly not while we were so close by.”
Miss Gordon declared that the robe never had been out of her sight.
“I’ll admit though,” she added, “that during the swimming lesson, I
seldom glanced in this direction.”
Connie, who had been poking about in the sand, suddenly shouted: “See
what I’ve found!”
The other Brownies thought that she had come upon Miss Gordon’s missing
watch. Instead, Connie pointed to a large footprint in the loose sand.
“It was made by a man with wet feet!” she exclaimed. “See, here’s
another--and another! Maybe the person who left these prints stole your
watch, Miss Gordon!”
“I think not,” replied the teacher, examining the prints. “These marks
plainly were made by a bather. See, the trail goes directly down to the
sea.”
“And one wouldn’t take a wrist watch into the water,” said Rosemary.
“That would be stupid.”
Just then Barney Fulsom, the lifeguard, came over to the group to ask
if anything were wrong. Miss Gordon told him about losing her watch.
“It’s been stolen, all right,” Barney said. “That thief gets bolder
every day.”
“Then you’ve had other articles stolen here?” inquired Mrs. Williams.
“We’ve had at least a dozen thefts reported during the summer. Several
cars have been broken into too, and a couple of cruisers. It’s giving
the beach a bad reputation.”
“Can’t police catch the thief?” asked Vevi. “Once when Connie and I
traveled with a circus we helped the circus people trap a pickpocket.”
“I wish the Brownies would help me catch this fellow,” replied Barney
soberly. “So far we haven’t a single clue.”
Mrs. Williams inquired how long the beach thefts had been going on.
“All summer,” the life guard answered. “Almost from the day I started
to work here. That’s what makes it look so bad for me. Folks are
starting to shun the cottage beach and use the one by the hotel.”
“The thefts never occur there?”
“None has been reported so far. Raymond Curry guards at the hotel
beach. He likes to twit me and make out that it’s my fault so many
things are taken here. He says I don’t keep close enough watch.”
“My loss certainly wasn’t your fault,” Miss Gordon said. “I never
should have left jewelry in the pocket of a beach robe. I blame only
myself.”
Barney told the teacher that it would be most unwise in the future
to leave any item of value on the beach. Lockers were provided in the
bathhouse for the safekeeping of all valuables.
“Your watch may turn up later,” he said. “I doubt it though.”
“Maybe the Brownies can catch that thief,” suggested Vevi. “We’ll all
keep watch for ’spicious characters.”
Miss Gordon felt her loss most keenly. However, she told the Brownies
they were not to worry about it.
“Scamper to the bath-house now and dress,” she advised them. “You’ll
have an hour or so to play before dinner time.”
Miss Gordon told the girls that if they liked they might use the free
period to watch the sea birds and learn their habits.
The teacher did not think to warn the Brownies that they were to stay
close to Starfish Cottage. Anyway, she knew all the girls could be
trusted to use good judgment.
Now none of the Brownies lived at Silver Beach. Instead, their homes
were at Rosedale, a town many miles away.
At Rosedale, Connie and Vevi were next door neighbors. Always they had
been close friends, enjoying many good times together even before both
had joined the Brownie troop.
Miss Gordon’s unit was a very active one. With her as the leader, the
girls had spent several exciting days at Snow Valley.
Another time, Vevi and Connie had been carried away with a circus.
However, that had been an accident.
On one occasion the Brownies had taken part in a wonderful cherry
festival. At Rosedale, the troop met either in private homes or their
own little tree house which had been built in the metropolitan park. If
you wonder how they ever acquired a tree house, read the book called,
“The Brownie Scouts and their Tree House.”
The Brownies now raced off to the bathhouse to dress.
Connie and Vevi dressed faster than the other girls. They both took
showers, washing salt water from their bathing suits. Then they put on
their pinchecked brown gingham uniforms with white stitching. On the
right side of each collar was a tiny Brownie pin.
Vevi gave her dark hair a quick brush and put on her brown felt
beanie. “Come on, slow poke,” she said to Connie. “Let’s walk up to
the hotel beach.”
The girls left their bathing suits with Connie’s mother and started off.
“Don’t be gone long,” Mrs. Williams called after them. “Dinner at six.”
Hand in hand, the two girls skipped along the beach. They kept watching
for birds but the only ones they saw were gulls.
Before long, Vevi and Connie came within view of the big Beach House
hotel. The waterfront was dotted with colored umbrellas and many
bathers were in the sea.
An even larger crowd had gathered in a huge circle on the lawn in front
of the hotel.
“Why, what are all those folks doing?” Vevi demanded, stopping short.
“Let’s find out,” proposed Connie.
The children approached the group of people, who were laughing and
having a good time. In the center of the circle were a number of
turtles. The creatures were crawling toward the rim which had been
chalked on the grass.
“It’s a turtle race!” cried Vevi. “Let’s watch!”
She and Connie crowded into the front line. A tiny turtle with a
yellow painted stripe across its back, was coming directly toward them.
“Come on, yellow!” shouted Vevi. She wanted the little turtle to win.
Instead of coming on toward the edge of the circle, it stopped short,
raising up its head to look and listen.
A spotted pond turtle went around it. Vevi and Connie thought it would
be the winner. But a moment later a snapper went around both turtles.
It was crawling very fast, much like a creeping baby.
Suddenly everyone began to shout. The snapper had crossed the chalk
line, winning the race.
Raymond Curry, the hotel life guard, had been conducting the race.
“No. 10 wins,” he announced in a loud voice. “Who owns him?”
A boy of ten years stepped forward to claim a prize for having the
winning turtle.
“Ten dollars for you, son,” said the lifeguard. “Nice going! Now
remember, folks, we’ll have another race here Saturday afternoon. The
hotel again will offer ten dollars to the winner, and a second prize
consisting of a free motor boat ride.” Vevi pinched Connie so hard
that it hurt. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“Ten dollars,” murmured Connie. “That’s a lot of money!”
“Maybe we could win it for our Brownie troop!”
“But we have no turtle.”
“There must be a way to get one,” Vevi declared. “Let’s ask.”
The girls sidled over toward the lifeguard. He was busy and did not act
as if he wanted to be bothered.
“Well, what is it?” he asked impatiently.
“Please,” said Connie politely, “may anyone enter the race?”
“That’s right.”
“We have no turtle,” Vevi informed him. “How do we get one?”
“You’ll have to hunt,” replied the lifeguard. He spoke rather crossly,
snapping out his words.
“But where does one find a turtle?”
“That’s up to you,” the guard returned, shrugging his powerful
shoulders. He walked away before the girls could ask another question.
“I don’t like him one bit,” said Vevi. “His name should be ‘Snapper.’
He snaps just like a turtle.”
Picking up a stick, she poked it at one of the turtles which was
crawling across the lawn. It huffed up and bit fiercely at the stick.
“Careful,” warned the man who owned the turtle. “That old boy is a
biter. The only safe way to handle him is to pick him up by the tail.”
“I don’t think I want a racing turtle,” said Connie, backing away.
“Only the snappers are cross,” the man explained. “They’re safe enough
if you handle them right. If you youngsters want to enter the race,
better get yourselves a pair of nice pond turtles. Most of them are
good-natured.”
“I don’t think Mr. Curry wants us to be in the race,” declared Vevi.
“He wouldn’t tell us anything about it.”
“Oh, Curry’s out of sorts this morning,” the man replied. “It seems his
son has run away again.”
Now Vevi and Connie had forgotten that Barney Fulsom had told them the
hotel lifeguard had a son. In fact, they did not know anything about
him, except that he was a fine swimmer.
“Curry and his son, Jamie, can’t seem to get along well,” the man went
on. “Every so often, the youngster chases off somewhere for a day or
two. It makes his father very angry.”
Vevi and Connie now understood why the lifeguard had spoken so crossly
to them. They thought though, that he might have taken time to tell
them more about the race.
“I’d give you youngsters this snapper, only I’m afraid you couldn’t
handle him,” continued the friendly man. “Better get a pond turtle.”
“But how do we find one?” asked Vevi eagerly.
“Try Cabell’s pond. That place should be thick with them.”
Without telling the children how to reach the pond, the man walked away
with his snapping turtle.
“I guess we may as well forget about the race,” sighed Connie, deeply
discouraged.
“And not win ten dollars for our troop? Why, Connie Williams!”
“I’d like to win a race. But how can we ever find Cabell’s pond?”
Vevi had sighted Barney Fulsom far down the beach near Starfish Cottage.
“Let’s ask _him_,” she proposed. “He’s much more friendly than Mr.
Curry. I’m sure he’ll tell us how to reach the turtle pond.”