AN OLD SEA CAPTAIN
Though Vevi and Connie called after the boy several times, he did not
return.
“Do you think he was real?” Vevi asked anxiously. “We didn’t imagine we
saw him?”
“Of course not,” replied Connie. “He was real enough.”
“But why did he run away?”
“We must have frightened him, Vevi. Maybe he had no right to be inside
this little house. So when we came in, he waited for a chance to sneak
away without being seen.”
“Whoever he was, I wish he’d waited, Connie. Maybe he could have told
us how to get to Starfish Cottage.”
Feeling that they had no more right to be in the little ship cottage
than the runaway boy, the girls decided to leave. Connie took care to
close the front door firmly behind them.
“I wish we knew who owns this cute little place,” she remarked.
“Perhaps the owner doesn’t know that the door is unlocked.”
The fog horn was tooting again as the two girls picked their way down
the path. Vevi shivered, for the damp air had chilled her through.
“What’ll we do now?” she asked in a discouraged voice. “I can’t even
see the main road.”
“Listen!” Connie commanded suddenly.
Vevi stopped short. For a minute she thought her friend wanted her to
listen to the wail of the fog horn. Then, she too heard the sound that
Connie’s keen ears had detected--a crunch, crunch, crunch of gravel.
“Someone’s coming,” whispered Connie.
The girls huddled motionless by the trunk of a huge hard maple, peering
into the mist. Gradually they made out a shadowy, moving figure.
“A man,” whispered Vevi, half afraid.
Through the mist, the figure appeared very large, almost a giant.
The man was very close to the little girls before he saw them. He
pulled up quickly, exclaiming with a hearty laugh:
“Avast, there! Nearly ran you down in this pea-soup fog, didn’t I?”
The elderly man had such a friendly voice that Connie and Vevi lost all
fear. He was tall, with broad, slightly stooped shoulders.
Walking seemed hard for him, for he carried a stout cane. Perched
jauntily atop his head was a seaman’s cap.
“Aren’t you young ladies afraid to be walking alone in this dense fog?”
he asked with concern. “You might get lost.”
“We are already.” Connie gravely informed him.
“We’re trying to get back to Starfish Cottage,” added Vevi. “We don’t
know which way to go. Please help us.”
“Lost, eh?” chuckled the friendly old seaman. “This fog put me in
mind o’ the day we were running from Halifax to New York on the _John
Horner_. The fog was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.”
“Are you a sea captain?” Connie asked. She had noticed that the old man
wore a uniform with gold braid.
“Aye,” the stranger chuckled. “An old sea dog that’s coiled up his
cables. I’ve been in dry dock so many years all my hinges are rusty.”
“Don’t you sail any more?” asked Vevi.
“Haven’t set foot on a deck since my son was lost at sea. I’m an old
salt that’s quit the sea--swallowed the anchor, so to speak. But what
were you saying about looking for a starfish?”
“Not a fish--a cottage by that name,” explained Connie.
“Starfish Cottage?” the old man repeated. “Never heard of it, but it
must be one of those little places along the beach.”
“We can’t even find the beach,” Vevi declared. “Everything is all mixed
up and nothing looks right.”
“Now don’t you fret,” soothed the captain. “Just grab my hand, and I’ll
steer you through the shoals. We’ll be at Starfish Cottage before you
can say Davey Jones Locker.”
Vevi and Connie felt quite safe now that they were with the captain.
They fell into step on either side. The captain noticed that Vevi was
shivering and made her put on his warm jacket. After that she felt very
comfortable.
Tapping along the gravel walk with his cane, the captain led the
Brownies to the paved highway.
“Now, we could follow this road to the beach,” he said. “But I know a
shorter way that cuts off a quarter of the distance.”
The captain walked along the pavement only a short distance. Presently
he chose a path which wound in between clumps of tall trees. Vevi and
Connie never would have known that it was there. Their guide, however,
seemed familiar with every inch of the trail.
“We’ll be at Starfish Cottage quick as the wind,” he encouraged the
girls. “Now tell me how it was that you lost your way.”
Trudging along beside the old seaman, Vevi related how she and Connie
had started for the pond to find a racing turtle. She told also of
coming to the strange ship cottage and of seeing a boy run out of the
dwelling.
“The door was open?” The captain seemed quite disturbed. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes,” insisted Vevi. “Connie saw him too. We shouted to him to
wait, but he wouldn’t.”
“Now how do you suppose that door came open?” the captain muttered,
talking to himself. “I must look into it right away.”
The path had become very steep. Vevi and Connie had to step carefully
not to slide and fall.
“Doesn’t anyone live at the little ship house?” Vevi asked as she
paused an instant to catch her breath.
“Not any more.”
“It’s such a darling little house,” sighed Connie. “I wish the Brownie
Scouts could hold meetings there.”
“And who are the Brownie Scouts?” inquired the old captain.
Vevi and Connie told him about the Rosedale Troop and of the good times
they were having at the beach.
“We have Brownie songs and we do useful things,” Connie explained
proudly. “We have a secret slogan too--its initials are HOP.”
Now Vevi and Connie both knew that the initials HOP stood for “Help
Other People.” Because it was a secret, they could not tell the captain.
“I’ll show you the Brownie salute,” Connie offered. “It’s like this.”
She raised her right hand smartly to the temple, the first two fingers
straight. The ring finger and little finger were held down by the thumb.
“The two straight fingers stand for the two parts of the Brownie
Promise,” Vevi told the captain. “Want to hear the Promise?”
The captain said he did, so she recited it.
“‘I promise to do my best to love God and my country, to help other
people every day, especially those at home.’”
The captain said it was a very nice promise indeed. He reminded the
girls that they had told him almost everything about themselves except
their names.
“I’m Vevi McGuire, and this is Connie Williams. At Rosedale we live
next door to each other.”
“Now tell us _your_ name,” urged Connie.
“Why, I’m Cap’n Tarwell. Just an old sea dog that’s lost his bite. I
like to walk in the fog.”
“Tarwell?” Connie repeated the name thoughtfully. “Why, that same name
was in the old Bible at the ship cabin.”
“Jerry R. Tarwell,” recalled Vevi. “He died at sea.”
She wanted to ask the old captain if he were related to the young man
mentioned in the Bible. From the odd way he looked, she thought he must
know all about the ship cottage.
Before she could ask a question however, they came within the sound of
the breakers.
“Hear ’em roar?” asked the captain, pausing to listen. “We’re almost at
the beach now, and the fog’s lifting a bit. By tomorrow it’ll burn off
and we’ll have a nice day.”
A little farther on, Captain Tarwell showed the girls a group of
cottages through the mist.
“Oh, I know where I am now!” Connie cried. “I can see Starfish Cottage
from here!”
Even though the girls were sure they would not lose their way again,
Captain Tarwell walked with them to the cottage.
Connie’s mother, Miss Gordon, and all the Brownies had gathered on the
porch. They were ready to start off in search of the two missing girls.
“Oh, here you are!” Mrs. Williams exclaimed as Connie and Vevi dashed
up the steps. “We’ve been so worried.”
“The fog came in so fast,” added Miss Gordon. “I couldn’t find you
anywhere.”
Feeling ashamed to have caused so much trouble, Connie and Vevi
explained once more about their search for a racing turtle. Then they
introduced Captain Tarwell and told how he had brought them safely to
the beach.
“’Twas nothing,” insisted the captain when Mrs. Williams and Miss
Gordon tried to thank him. “The children weren’t lost really. The fog
only confused them.”
Captain Tarwell turned to leave. Vevi took off the jacket he had given
her and politely returned it.
“So you’d like to have a racing turtle?” the old man asked.
“Oh, yes!”
“Tell you what! If your troop leader says the word, I’ll take all the
Brownies to the pond to hunt for turtles. Blast my barnacles, I will!”
“Oh, may we go?” cried Vevi.
“Tomorrow?” demanded Connie.
Miss Gordon laughed and said she would think the matter over.
That night, the Brownies sat around a fire at Starfish Cottage, singing
songs and telling stories.
The walls fairly rocked as the girls warbled:
“We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim,
Lend a hand and play the game!”
Everyone plied Vevi and Connie with questions about their adventure in
the fog. They tried very hard to describe the strange little house they
had discovered beside the road.
“I never heard of a house built like a ship!” exclaimed Rosemary in awe.
“You say no one appeared to be living there, and yet the door was
open!” added Jane.
“And a boy ran out while you were there!” commented Sunny Davidson.
“Maybe you imagined it.”
Vevi and Connie became indignant at such a suggestion.
“We did not imagine it!” they declared together. “The captain was real
enough, wasn’t he?”
“Oh, he was real,” Jane agreed with a shrug. “But he didn’t say
anything about a little ship house. Fog, they say, gives rise to
strange fancies.”
Now Vevi and Connie were very annoyed. Jane, they felt, was putting
on airs. She wanted the other Brownies to believe that they had been
confused.
“Another thing,” Jane went on, “it seems funny to me that Captain
Tarwell would have the same name as the one written in the Bible.”
“Well, it’s so!” Vevi declared. “At least the last name was the same.
You heard him tell Mrs. Williams he was Captain Tarwell.”
“Oh, yes,” agreed Jane. She flashed a very wise smile. “But did anyone
hear him mention a little house?”
“One with ‘Welcome’ over the door?” giggled Sunny.
“He didn’t have a chance,” retorted Vevi hotly.
“Oh, yes, he did,” insisted Jane. “He was here quite a while. You
mentioned the little house once, Vevi, and he gave you a very odd look.
I think he knew you had imagined the whole thing!”
“Oh,” gasped Vevi. “Connie and I will prove to you that the little
house is as real as Starfish Cottage!”
“And that it’s built to look like a ship,” added Connie.
“How?”
“We’ll take you there,” Connie offered. “We’ll take all the Brownies.
That is, if Miss Gordon says we may.”
The Brownie Scout leader, who had been listening to the heated debate,
smiled and nodded.
“What better way to settle the question?” she laughed. “As soon as the
fog disappears, we’ll all go together to see what we can learn.”