FOUND IN THE REEDS
While Vevi stood perfectly still, Jamie sneaked up on the turtle.
Clover was sunning himself on the log, barely moving his claws.
Closer and closer Jamie crept, taking care not to splash in the water.
He was almost on the turtle when it stretched its neck sideways.
Apparently it saw the boy, for quick as a flash it flopped into the
water.
“Oh, dear, there goes my chance of winning the race Saturday,” sighed
Vevi. “We’ll never get him now.”
Jamie watched but the turtle did not reappear on the surface of the
pond.
“Time to go,” shouted Captain Tarwell. “Shake a leg, you kids.”
Vevi and Jamie teased to stay a few minutes longer, but the seaman had
grown tired of waiting. Besides, he had promised he would have them
back at the beach by an early hour.
Jamie started to wade in. He was nearly ashore when he halted again. An
object in the reeds had drawn his attention.
“Avast, there!” called the captain. “None o’ that restin’ on the oars!
Come along with you!”
“But I see something fluttering in the reeds!” Jamie exclaimed. “It’s
not a turtle either! It’s something alive and it’s white!”
“I see it too!” cried Vevi. “It looks like a duck!”
Jamie started to wade over toward the reeds. Captain Tarwell let him
go, because he wondered too what it was the boy had seen.
By this time Jamie had reached the reed patch. He scooped in his hand
and pulled a white bird from the water.
“It’s a pigeon! A carrier pigeon!” he called to those on shore.
Vevi became very excited.
“Maybe it’s Snow White!” she exclaimed. “Is there a leg band with a
number, Jamie?”
Carrying the pigeon, the boy waded ashore. “It has a number, but it’s
smeared with oil and I can’t read the figures,” he announced. “The
bird’s feathers are soaked with oil. I’m getting it all over me.”
Vevi was certain the moment she saw the bird that it was the missing
Snow White. Captain Tarwell wiped oil from the pigeon’s wings and the
leg band. With the metal plate clean again, he could read the numerals.
They were 68971.
“It’s the same pigeon all right,” the captain confirmed. “Dash my
binnacles, if it isn’t!”
“The bird’s been in a fight, maybe with a hawk,” guessed Jamie. “See,
there’s a bloody mark on his head. He doesn’t seem much hurt though.”
Captain Tarwell examined the pigeon carefully. Except for a slight head
wound, he could find no injury.
“It was the oil on his feathers that kept him from rising into the air
again,” he told the children. “When he fell or lighted on the pond, he
must have settled into a patch of oil. He’d have starved to death if we
hadn’t come along.”
Vevi was very pleased to have found Snow White again. She wanted to
take the pigeon to Starfish Cottage.
Captain Tarwell said they would carry the bird instead to Mr. Green’s
loft. “It won’t be much out of our way,” he declared.
When the children and Captain Tarwell arrived at the pigeon loft twenty
minutes later, Mr. Green was very busy. He was working on his records
which he said were not being kept up properly.
“I need a likely boy to help me,” he told Captain Tarwell. “Know of
anyone who would like a job?”
“How about Jamie here?” asked the captain, half seriously and half in
jest.
“I’d like to work with pigeons!” exclaimed Jamie. “How much will you
pay, Mr. Green?”
The pigeon cote owner did not answer the question. He looked Jamie over
carefully.
“You’re too young,” he said finally. Then, seeing how disappointed
Jamie looked, he added: “But I’ll think it over. Come around in a day
or two.”
Mr. Green had not seemed very pleased to have the lost carrier pigeon
returned to the loft.
“That bird is worthless,” he declared impatiently. “I’m through
bothering with it. Or feeding it either!”
“Won’t you give Snow White another chance?” Vevi pleaded. “He couldn’t
rise from the water no matter how hard he tried. His wings were all
coated with oil when Jamie rescued him.”
“I know,” agreed Mr. Green. “But if it isn’t one thing, its another.
White birds are more subject to attack than pigeons of another color.
This bird isn’t strong enough to be a valuable racer. So I’ll cull it
out.”
“Don’t do that,” pleaded Vevi quickly. “Give the bird to me.”
“You’re welcome to it. But where will you keep the pigeon?”
Vevi knew that Mrs. Williams and Miss Gordon would not want her to have
it at the cottage.
“I can give you a cage for it,” Mr. Green offered. “And enough feed to
last a week. I’m warning you though, a bird is a lot of work.”
Captain Tarwell told Vevi that she might keep the cage in the yard of
the ship cottage.
“For a few days, that is,” he added. “By that time you’ll tire of
looking after the pigeon and be willing to let it fly away.”
“Oh, no!” protested Vevi. “I’ll never want to give up Snow White.”
“If you decide to let the bird go, I hope it doesn’t fly back here,”
spoke up Mr. Green.
After watching the pigeon cote owner feed some of his birds, Captain
Tarwell and the children walked back to the ship cottage.
They found a sheltered place for the cage, and after feeding and
watering the bird, left it there.
“I’m afraid Snow White will be lonesome,” Vevi said anxiously.
“I come here often,” the captain reassured her. “I’ll look in now
and then to see how he’s doing. I’m not worried about the bird being
lonesome. I’m more afraid he’ll be chilled. Pigeons need a warm, snug
nest.”
The trio walked on down the road toward the beach. A breeze was blowing
off the sea, sending in long, rolling waves.
“Lots of white horses today,” remarked the captain.
Vevi didn’t know what he meant until he told her that whitecaps on the
waves were called white horses in seamen’s slang.
“A large wave is a smokehouse,” he explained. “The long rolling ones
are beachcombers. That little wave over by the pier is a white nose.”
Vevi turned her head to see the wave the captain had pointed out. The
little “white nose” snubbed itself against the post of the pier and
vanished even as she watched.
At the shore end of the pier where a long line of cars had been parked,
a crowd had gathered. Amid the throng, Vevi saw Miss Gordon and
several of the Brownies.
“Why, what is everyone doing there?” she asked quickly. “Maybe there’s
been an accident!”
“Something does seem to be wrong,” agreed the captain.
Vevi and Jamie raced on ahead of him to learn why such a large crowd
had gathered.
Nearing the pier, they met Jane and Connie coming along the beach.
“Has there been an accident?” Vevi asked the two Brownies.
“That’s what we want to find out,” Connie answered.
The four children hastened on, reaching the end of the pier where so
many grownups had gathered. In the center of the crowd they saw a
middle-aged woman in a white suit talking excitedly to the lifeguard,
Barney Fulsom.
“It happened while I was in the little curio shop,” she told the guard.
“Why, I wasn’t gone ten minutes. When I came out, I saw a man walking
away from the car. I thought nothing of it until I discovered that the
glove compartment had been opened.”
“What was taken, Mrs. Allison?” the guard asked her.
“My coin purse. I shouldn’t have left it there with the car
unlocked--that I realize. But I barely turned my back.”
“How much did you lose, Mrs. Allison?”
“A ten dollar bill and odd change. The little purse was brown leather
set off with gold initials A.W.A.”
By this time Vevi, Connie, Jane and Jamie had drawn in close to hear
what was being said. Also in the crowd were Mrs. Williams, Miss Gordon,
Sunny and Rosemary.
“I’m certain it was a man in black bathing trunks and light brown sweat
shirt who took the purse,” Mrs. Allison continued. “At least I saw him
walking away from the car. He mingled with the other bathers and I lost
sight of him.”
The life guard was quite disturbed about the theft. Even though Mrs.
Allison had left her car unlocked, he felt partly responsible.
“I watch as carefully as I can,” he said. “Lately several persons have
reported losses. We can’t seem to snare the thief.”
“After this, I’ll park my car elsewhere,” Mrs. Allison declared. “I’ll
swim at the hotel beach too. I’ve heard others say that one can’t sea
bathe here without running the risk of losing anything left loose on
the beach. It’s true, apparently.”
Very annoyed by the loss of her purse, the woman climbed into her car
and drove away.
Barney walked among the bathers, searching for a man in black trunks
and brown sweat shirt.
“It’s no use,” he told Miss Gordon and the Brownies a little later.
“Even if I found the fellow, I couldn’t accuse him, having no proof.
But unless I can put an end to these thefts, the beach will lose all
its customers.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mrs. Williams commented.
“No, but the management holds me responsible. I have an idea who may be
breaking into the cars, but it’s only a theory. A wild one at that.”
“Is it anyone you know?” asked Connie, who had been listening hard.
“Some one I know very well,” replied the lifeguard. “I can’t convince
myself that my suspicion could be true. And yet, Mrs. Allison’s remark
about the black trunks and brown sweat shirt set me to thinking. Many
bathers wear black trunks. But I know of only one hereabouts who has a
brown sweat shirt.”
“Who is he?” demanded Vevi, fairly overcome by curiosity.
Barney however, would not mention a name.
“I’m not sure that I have the right slant on the situation,” he
replied. “It would be unfair and unwise to accuse anyone without
absolute proof. What I must do is keep closer watch than ever of this
beach.”
“The thief may over-step himself,” remarked Miss Gordon.
“The Brownies will help you watch the beach,” eagerly offered Vevi.
“Jamie will too, won’t you?”
Now Barney Fulsom had forgotten that the little boy was standing close
by. He turned quickly toward him as did all the Brownies. Everyone was
surprised to see that the youngster appeared very disturbed.
“You’ll help, won’t you, Jamie?” Vevi repeated her question.
The boy stared at her a moment as if he had not heard.
“I--I won’t be here much longer,” he mumbled at last. “I’m going to run
away. I’ve made up my mind!”
And with that, he turned and ran off down the beach.