Mystery of Crocodile Island

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Nancy, curious, asked, “Where did the crocodiles come from?

  “Supposedly from Cuba,” Danny answered. “But they might even have traveled all the way from Africa.”

  “Oh, yes?” George said. “If I see that in a science book I’ll believe it, but not from hearsay.”

  “Well, they got here somehow,” Danny defended himself. “And certainly no one brought them. You figure it out.”

  He sent his boat past the houses on stilts. The Pirate had not gone far when he pointed out an uninhabited key. “That’s a good picnic spot,” he said. “Friends of mine and I sometimes come here.”

  George asked if he could go closer. “I see a green bottle floating toward shore. Let’s pick it up!”

  Bess saw a good chance to tease her cousin. She rarely got the opportunity. “Are you collecting old bottles?” she asked. “From here that doesn’t look very valuable.”

  “Possibly not,” George retorted, “but it’s corked. Maybe there’s something valuable inside.”

  When Danny reached the spot, George got down from her chair, leaned over the gunwale, and grabbed the bottle out of the water. It was dark green and had no markings. She tried to uncork it, but at first the stopper would not budge.

  “I guess we’ll have to take the bottle home and work on it with a corkscrew,” Bess said.

  “Maybe not,” George replied. She wiggled the cork from left to right, being careful not to break it. The cork loosened little by little. With one final yank, George pulled it out.

  She turned the bottle upside down. Nothing fell out. Then she held it up to her nose.

  “What does it smell like?” Bess asked. “Perfume?”

  “Nothing,” George said, disappointed.

  “You might as well throw it back into the water,” Danny advised.

  “I guess you’re right,” George said. “The whole thing was—wait a minute!” She had given the bottle a hard shake and looked into it. “I see something inside!” she said, excited. “It might be a note!”

  Everyone watched breathlessly as George held the bottle upside down and continued to shake it. Finally a rolled paper appeared in the long, thin neck. She reached in with one finger and gently eased the piece out.

  “What is it?” Nancy asked.

  George carefully unrolled the yellowed, crinkled paper. “It’s a message!” she cried out. “Dated twenty years ago!”

  “What does it say?” Danny asked impatiently.

  “Captain Wayne,” George read, “USS Venerable sank in hurricane off Argentina. Twelve took to life boat. God’s blessings.”

  There was complete silence for several seconds, then Nancy asked to see the paper.

  “I believe it’s authentic,” she said after examining it carefully. “The paper is well preserved and the cork was in tight. And down in the corner is a date. This was written twenty years ago!”

  “Why don’t we take the whole thing to the Naval Station at Key West?” Danny suggested. “They have all kinds of records there of old ships that went down in hurricanes.”

  “It’s a message!” George cried.

  “Good idea,” George said. She was about to roll the note and put it back in the bottle, when Bess stopped her.

  “Don’t do that,” her cousin advised. “It was hard enough to get it out the first time. Shoving it back in the bottle won’t make it any more authentic, you know.”

  George laughed and slipped the message in her pocket, then replaced the cork in the bottle. “My dear cousin, you’re right for a change.”

  “I’m right more often than you want to admit,” Bess said haughtily.

  Danny grinned and started the Pirate’s engine. Soon they approached Crocodile Island. The girls used the binoculars to search for the periscope in the deep, green channel, but did not see it. They circled the island from a distance and noticed a sign at the landing platform: NO VISITORS TODAY.

  “They’re keeping everyone out,” Danny said. “No activity at all. wonder for how long.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Let’s just keep going around the island. Maybe we’ll see something sooner or later.”

  They had almost completed the second circle when they heard an agonizing cry from somewhere on the island!

  CHAPTER X

  The Runaway’s Clues

  BESS turned pale. “Wh-what was that?”

  Before anyone could guess, there were more bloodcurdling screams from the island.

  “Maybe a crocodile got one of the workers!” George cried out in alarm.

  Just then a young bearded man raced from behind the mangrove trees into the water. He splashed through the shallow area, and when he reached the green channel began to swim.

  Seeing the nearby boat, he cried out, “Save me! Save me!”

  Danny guided the skiff alongside the frantic swimmer, and the girls pulled him aboard. His eyes were bulging with terror, and his legs were bleeding profusely.

  Danny quickly got a first-aid kit from a locker and handed it to the girls. They carefully washed the stranger s wounds and applied a soothing salve.

  “What happened to you?” Nancy asked him.

  “Just—just don’t take me back to the island, please!” the young man pleaded.

  “Of course not, Did a crocodile bite you?”

  “No, no! I was beaten with one of the sharp hooked poles they use on the reptiles.”

  “How dreadful!” Bess said. “Why would anyone do that to you?”

  “Because I didn’t clean the pits to suit the boss. Oh, he has a terrible temper!”

  Nancy wound a bandage around the man’s left leg, while George attended to the right one.

  Danny looked back to see if they were being followed, then asked, “Where do you want to go?”

  “To Key Biscayne,” the fugitive replied.

  The young people heard the sound of an engine and noticed a fast motorboat coming up in the deep channel toward the island.

  Just then a man appeared at the shore, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Colombo! Colombo, where are you? You can’t run away! Where are you, Colombo?”

  The runaway lay down in the bottom of the skiff, well protected by the three girls. He trembled with fright.

  Danny put on extra power, and the Pirate skipped speedily across the bay. The man on shore continued to yell for Colombo, but suddenly he addressed the skipper of a passing motorboat.

  “Follow the Pirate!” he ordered, pointing.

  “The water’s not deep enough,” the skipper replied, much to the relief of Danny and his passengers.

  The fugitive sighed, and Nancy asked him who he was and what had happened on Crocodile Island.

  “My name is Colombo Banks. I’m from New Orleans, but I came here to get a job. I was hired to work on Crocodile Island. At first I liked it, but then the bosses became very cruel.”

  “In what way?” Nancy asked.

  Colombo said that although he had requested permission to make a trip into Biscayne Bay on his free days, he had always been refused.

  “I began to wonder why, and finally decided that the members of the Crocodile Ecology Company were doing something underhanded. Perhaps they didn’t want me to leave and tell people what I had seen or heard.”

  “What did you see and hear?” George spoke up.

  Colombo told them that a speedboat called The Whisper came and went mysteriously.

  “Mysteriously? How?” Nancy asked.

  “Often it docks or leaves in the middle of the night, and I was never allowed to watch what was going on. The bosses made me sleep on the far side of the island with one other man named Sol. He’s black and a great guy. We were friends, but four other fellows who work there stay in the main house with the bosses.”

  “How mean!” Bess exclaimed.

  Colombo went on, “I decided to find out what was going on. At night I would sneak out of my cabin and go to the main part of the island. Many times I saw Mr. Sacco and Mr. Gimler at the landing dock, but usually the
y whispered and I couldn’t overhear anything.

  “Once, however, Gimler spoke loud enough to a man I’d never seen. ‘They want five hundred,’ the boss said. ‘Can you carry that many?’ Unfortunately I couldn’t make out the answer.”

  “Whom was he talking to?” George inquired.

  “The skipper of The Whisper.”

  “Do you think they were referring to crocodiles?” Danny asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do they ever transport crocs in The Whisper?”

  “No,” Colombo replied, then added, “I was scolded a good deal, mostly for no reason. It seemed as if the bosses had a grudge against me. I think they figured I knew more than I really do.”

  “That’s possible,” Nancy said thoughtfully.

  “I wanted to leave the job,” Colombo went on, “but they would never let me. A few times I tried to sneak up to the visitors and ask for a ride. But one of the workmen who lived with the bosses always chased me away.”

  “Did Sacco and Gimler ever have anything delivered to the island, or did they do the shopping themselves?” Nancy asked.

  Colombo said that as far as he knew all supplies were brought in by The Whisper, and whenever any of the men left, they used that boat.

  “You mean,” Nancy asked, “that they do not use any other means of transportation?”

  “Not as far as I know. But then, I wasn’t around to see everything. I just worked and ate and slept.”

  The young people felt sorry for the man, and his story made them more suspicious than ever of the partners in the Crocodile Ecology Company. By now they had reached Key Biscayne. Danny pulled into a public dock to let Colombo off, and asked him if they could be of any further help.

  Colombo shook his head. “You’ve all been mighty kind, and I’ll never forget it. If I can ever do you a favor, just let me know.”

  Nancy asked him where he would stay.

  “At the YMCA,” he said. “I have relatives here, but Mr. Gimler knows about them. If I go there, he’ll track me down and try to force me to return to Crocodile Island by threats, and make up some story.”

  “That’s true,” Nancy said. “Well, I hope your legs will heal properly. Perhaps you should see a doctor.”

  Colombo smiled. “I think you ladies did a fine job. I’ll be well in no time.” He stepped onto the dock with Danny’s help, then turned around. “I don’t even know your names,” he said.

  Nancy hesitated, but Danny spoke up quickly. “I’m Danny Cosgrove, and these are the Boonton girls, Anne, Elizabeth, and Jackie.”

  “Thank you,” Colombo said. “I really appreciate your help.”

  Danny pushed off, “I hope you girls don’t mind what I told him,” he said. “But he can find out from anyone around here who owns the Pirate.”

  “That was perfectly all right,” Nancy said. “Besides, I think we can trust him.”

  On the way home the young people discussed what the phrase “they want five hundred” could have meant.

  “If not crocodiles, what else?” George asked.

  “The thing that bothers me most,” Bess said, “is that Mr. Gimler might have known Colombo was on the skiff. If so, he may make trouble. We’d better not go back to Crocodile Island.”

  “We’ve got to, Bess,” said Nancy. “We’re just beginning to get some good clues!”

  When they reached the Cosgrove home, Danny’s mother was waiting for them. After greeting each one, she said, “I have a message for you, Nancy.”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “Mr. Gonzales called. He has some valuable information to give you.”

  “Did he give any hint as to what it was?” Nancy asked.

  Mrs. Cosgrove shook her head. “He said that you would receive a letter in the morning.”

  Nancy wanted to phone Mr. Gonzales at once, but realized that she should not let her curiosity get the better of her and possibly embarrass him.

  Later in the evening, the group settled down to watch television, but the young detective had trouble concentrating on the show. Instead, her thoughts focused on what Colombo had told them about Crocodile Island.

  Presently the phone rang. Mrs. Cosgrove answered, then handed the receiver to Nancy. “It’s for you.”

  “Hello?” Nancy said.

  “You’re not Anne Boonton!” a man said gruffly. “You’re Nancy Drew. We know all about you. If you and your friends don’t leave Florida at once, you’ll never get home again!”

  CHAPTER XI

  An Identification

  “WHO are you?” Nancy asked the man on the phone.

  There was no reply, only a click in her ear.

  Nancy’s friends looked at her questioningly. “Who was it?” George asked.

  “One of our enemies, I’m afraid. He told us to leave Florida, or we might never see our homes again!”

  “Oh, dear!” Bess wailed. “Now they know where we’re staying.”

  “So what?” George said. “This isn’t the first time Nancy has been threatened over the phone by her adversaries!”

  Danny tried to break the tension. “Bess, will you stop worrying? After all, you have me to protect you!”

  Bess laughed, and after a while the mysterious call was forgotten.

  Next morning Nancy watched eagerly for the mailman. When he came up the street, she ran from the house to meet him. He smiled at her and asked, “Is a Miss Anne Boonton staying here?”

  “Yes,” Nancy replied. “Do you have a letter for her?”

  “Indeed I do,” the man replied. “And a lot of others. You want to take them?”

  “I’ll be glad to,” Nancy said, and he handed her the bundle.

  She thanked him, then hurried into the house and quickly scanned the stack. The one addressed to Anne Boonton was near the bottom. Nancy opened the envelope. The letter read:

  Dear Anne:

  I had a phone call from Hal Gimler today. He told me that one of our employees, Colombo Banks, has run away. He suspects that the workman escaped in a skiff with three girls and a boy in it.

  Gimler thinks that Colombo may cause trouble and asked me to locate him. I was wondering, was your group responsible for his rescue, and do you know where he is? Gimler threatens to have him arrested for stealing.

  If you have any information about Colombo, meet me at my club for lunch tomorrow.

  G.

  “That’s today,” Nancy said to herself.

  By this time Bess, George, and the Cosgroves had joined her and wanted to know what the letter said. She read it to them.

  When she finished, Mr. Cosgrove said, “You’d better go to the club and talk to Mr. Gonzales.”

  “There’s only one problem,” George said. “Nancy might be followed. Now that the Ecology people know where we’re staying, they may have this place staked out.”

  “Well,” Mr. Cosgrove said, “we belong to the same club as Mr. Gonzales, and we know many other members. Perhaps you could meet one of them and get a ride.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Nancy said. “Now we just have to figure out how I get from here to wherever I’ll meet this person.”

  Bess had a suggestion. “Danny and Nancy are about the same size. Couldn’t she wear his clothes and cover her hair with a golf hat?”

  Nancy laughed. “I wouldn’t want to have lunch with Mr. Gonzales in dungarees and a T-shirt!”

  “True,” Mrs. Cosgrove agreed. Then her face lit up. “I have it!” she said. “The delivery boy from Drummond’s Market is due here at about eleven. He drives a van. I’ll tell him to back up to our attached garage so you can slip into the van unseen. Then he can drop you off downtown.”

  “That sounds great,” Nancy agreed.

  “Okay. I’ll call my friend Mrs. Grote and see if she’s playing golf today. If so, she can meet you at a drugstore on the main street. She has to pass it on the way to the club. What shall I tell her you’ll be wearing?”

  “If I put on my dark-blue pants suit, I might
still be taken for a boy from a distance, provided I cover my hair,” Nancy replied.

  Mr. Cosgrove said he had a hat he used on the golf course, and offered to lend it to Nancy. “Come with me and see if it fits,” he said.

  While Nancy was gone, Mrs. Cosgrove called her friend, who agreed to pick up Nancy at the drugstore.

  Ten minutes later the girl detective appeared again, dressed in a blue pants suit with white collar and cuffs, and the white golf hat.

  “Oh, you look cute!” Bess exclaimed. “Not quite like Danny, but close!”

  Just then Danny walked into the room and overheard Bess’s remark. “You’ve got to be kidding!” he protested. “I don’t own a fancy getup like that, and if I did, I’d give it away quick!”

  Everyone laughed, and Nancy said, “All that counts is that from a distance I don’t look like me!”

  “Nancy,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, “Mrs. Grote will meet you at the drugstore. She’ll be wearing a white dress with a multicolored embroidered belt.”

  Soon the delivery boy arrived at the back door in a van. Mrs. Cosgrove gave him the necessary instructions, and Nancy slipped into the rear. After he had left the street she climbed into the seat next to him. He looked at her and gave a low whistle. “You’re a doll ” he said appreciatively. “Are you on a secret date?”

  Nancy smiled. “Suppose you guess?”

  “I’m sure you are,” the young man said as he pulled around a corner, “so I won’t interfere. But I’d like to take you out myself some time.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Nancy replied. “Right now, however, I have to go on an important errand.”

  When they reached the drugstore, she thanked the boy, quickly hopped out, and went inside. She saw a rack of books and walked over to examine the titles. Just then an attractive woman walked into the store. She was dressed in white except for an embroidered, many-colored belt.

  “She must be Mrs. Grote,” Nancy concluded. The woman spotted her at the same moment, and walked toward the girl, holding out her hand. “Anne, I’m Mrs. Grote. I’ll be very happy to drive you to the club.”