“Skip it, Sis,” Phil interrupted. “Pleasure comes before business, since your main duty is to see that your guests are happy.”
The meeting broke up then, and everyone hurried off to change into bathing suits. Down on dock they found Marjorie and Judy sitting on the edge, dangling their feet in the water.
Jimmy, Alf and Brook were busy completing preparations for their camping trip which was to start the next day. The boys were fixing two of the canoes to take along on the Bronc. They were planning to do some fishing in the rivers they camped by, and were going to be fully prepared to take advantage of anything else they might find.
That evening they had an old-fashioned square dance out on the front porch. There was a fiddler in the town who had come back with Mal, and the guests as well as the Allens had a lively time. Kitty and Ann Mary served delicious cold lemonade with homemade cookies.
Philip reached for his fourth cooky and said to Adra, “I’m sure I’d get too fat to move if I ate all the good things Ann Mary is always making. Can you make cookies like this, Adra?”
She laughed and said, “No, Phil, I can’t make anything as good as Ann Mary does, but I’m sure I could learn, if I was offered an incentive.”
“Would I be incentive enough?” asked Phil.
“You would, indeed!” said Adra promptly. “But I’m afraid we couldn’t live on just cookies.”
Phil laughed and said, “That might be fun for a little while. I’m sure Marjorie and Jimmy would think so. They can eat at least two dozen at a time without even trying. I’m so glad you’re going to be here for the rest of the summer, Adra, we have so much to talk about. I want to tell you of my plans for the winter. I’m going to try to take a job where I can be near you.”
“Oh, Phil, that will be wonderful,” cried Adra. “I can’t think of anything I would like better. You know Peter and I have become very good friends since he has been working for my father, and he told me he would like to find something so that he could be closer to Penny. Does Penny know how much he likes her?”
“I think she does, Adra, because, you see, she likes Peter just as much.” Phil and Adra looked very happy as they strolled off hand in hand.
Penny, watching them, said to Peter, “I’m glad our mysterious Mr. X isn’t spoiling their fun. I wish you’d forget about the mystery, too, Peter, just for the evening,” she added wistfully.
He grinned cheerfully. “When I look at you, Penny, I can’t even remember my own name.”
But Penny knew that, underneath his flattering banter, Peter was worried. She almost wished that she hadn’t told him anything about the mystery.
CHAPTER 9
CAMPING OUT
The next day everybody came out to wish bon voyage to Pat and the boys who were leaving on their camping trip for a week. All hands helped them get their paraphernalia aboard the station wagon.
Pat was the last one to get in with the big box of fishing tackle in his left hand and a huge picnic hamper packed with good food in his right hand. Ann Mary had seen to it that they would eat well the first day they started out. For the rest of the week they had the back of the Bronc well stocked with canned foods which they expected to supplement with the fish they caught.
They were all in the best of spirits. This was to be a real adventure. Pat was taking them into the woods to a fishing camp where Jimmy’s Uncle John Allen used to go every summer. Alf Powell and Jimmy were the chief mechanics in case anything went wrong with the car, and Brook and Pat were to be the cooks.
Marjorie and Judy had their noses slightly out of joint because they had been hoping right up until the last minute before the boys left, that perhaps they too would be allowed to go along. But the boys would not even hear of it, and Penny thought it would not be a good idea, either.
“Never mind,” Judy said in a consoling whisper to Marjorie. “Maybe we’ll find the buried treasure while they’re gone.”
Just then Ann Mary came running out with an armful of freshly ironed shirts for the boys.
“Mr. Taggart brought these,” she panted, “early this morning. I told him he had to get them here before you left. Theresa just finished ironing them.”
“Thanks,” Jimmy said, “but they needn’t have been ironed. For the next week we aren’t going to care how we look.”
“Lucky dogs,” Marjorie said in an aside to Judy. “Do you know what Penny said to me last night? She said, ‘From now on you and I ought to change before dinner into something besides blue jeans.’”
“I guess she’s right,” Judy said reluctantly. “Mother has had the same idea all along.”
But in spite of how they felt, the girls recovered from their sulks long enough to wave cheery goodbyes to the boys.
“Have fun,” they shouted.
“Be careful,” called Penny.
And so at last, Jimmy, Alf and Brook were off on their great adventure.
After driving all day, Pat and the boys pulled into a little grove of pines, deep in the woods near a beautiful, rock-strewn river. They made camp and got out their mosquito repellent. Pat had told them the black flies in this part of the woods were really vicious so they had come well prepared for such an emergency. Jimmy and Alf got into their high boots and waded into the river to fish. The results of this little expedition were not quite as good as they expected, but the few small fish they caught were very sweet when cooked.
They were up bright and early the next morning, but that day brought no better results as far as fishing was concerned. Pat suggested that they move camp deeper into the woods, near a little lake where he thought the fishing would be much better. Jimmy seconded the suggestion and in no time at all they were on their way again. This time they made camp near the tip of the little lake and early the next morning they watched the mist rise from the lake and listened to the birds singing in chorus.
This spot was so beautiful that Brook and Alf said they would like to spend the rest of the week here, even if they didn’t catch a single fish.
“I knew you’d like it,” answered Pat. “Mr. Allen always wanted to stay here awhile,” he said to Jimmy.
“And no wonder,” said Jimmy, “I can’t wait until we get out there in our canoe.”
The boys were all skillful with the paddle, and as they skimmed along the lake widened, then narrowed till it was not much more than a stream. Finally they reached the other end and drew the canoe into a small bay. Pat led them to a small log hut hidden in the nearby trees. Here there was a curious storehouse for food and extra equipment. It was built of small pine logs and was raised high on a few posts. Pat explained that this was to keep the food from getting damp, and that if it were properly fastened no climbing bear could help himself to the food.
The little bay where they had left their canoe was the outlet for a stream in which Pat said there was wonderful fishing. Pat said they would have to go upstream a way against some rapids to get to the really good fishing spot. He also told them that there was a waterfall nearby and the safest thing would be for all of them to do all of their exploring, fishing, hunting, or anything else they decided to do, in groups. Pat cautioned them about the strong current in the stream, too.
“Come on,” said Jimmy. “Let’s do some fishing now and go up those rapids tomorrow.”
They caught a beautiful trout and a bass for their supper and considered that a perfect end to a successful and happy day. They decided to spend the night in the small log campers’ hut.
The next day’s plan was changed when morning came. The woods about the camp were explored and found to be fairly open. It was full of birds, squirrels, chipmunks and other small animals. Brook almost caught a flying squirrel and claimed that he saw a wild cat. There were beavers building in a small stream that wandered through the pines and widened not far from the lake. A graceful deer took flight as Pat, who was in the lead, approached. This caused c
onsiderable excitement and all chatter ceased as they stole on in the hope of surprising another deer or a bear.
They climbed trees, investigated nests and Jimmy kept looking for bees. The boys wanted to know why, and he replied that the bees would lead them to a “honey tree,” and there they might find a bear.
“Go to it, Jimmy,” cried Alf. “I bet we take the honey first.”
They finally did see a bear, a black one of moderate size. It ambled off before them from the water’s edge. None of them had the heart to shoot it or anything else they saw. They were having such a wonderful time just investigating.
Around the campfire that night they sang and told stories and when it began to turn very chilly they turned in. They were awakened early in the morning by the bird chorus. Alf said it was not so hard to get up here as at home, in school time! They took the canoe up the rocky stream with its dashing waters and strong current. By noon they had reached the highest point from which these rapids started. It was quiet at noon and the sun was hot. The perspiring boys sat around in their bathing shorts and ate a cold lunch. Then they got down to the real business of fishing. Jimmy drew in a handsome black bass, and then the competition became keen. Brook caught a beautiful brook trout, and it was a jolly group of boys that sat near the shore to clean their fish in the late afternoon when they had returned to the hut.
Jimmy had started the fire and then joined the rest, picking up the first fish at hand, a fine trout. “Who caught this?” he asked.
“I’ll have you know that I’m the guy,” grinned Pat, looking up from the bass he was cleaning and waving his knife in the air. “It’s worth-while fishing where there’s something to catch!”
“Isn’t this a walleyed perch, Jimmy?” asked Brook.
“I guess so.” Jimmy had started in vigorously to clean the trout and now raised a loud voice in the ditty of “Ham and Eggs.” The others joined in, making the shore ring with the sound. The fact that supper was to consist mainly of fish made no difference. With young appetites and overflowing energy they managed to consume all of the day’s catch.
The next day Jimmy and Alf wanted to take things easy and do some swimming and lounging, but Brook wanted to do some more exploring. They finally decided to spend the day near the hut, and Brook made a mental note to do some exploring on his own when he could. While they were all in swimming, he paddled off alone, down the main stream. He had gone only a little distance before he was concealed from view by trees and a curving shore. He entered the main stream, which was quite wide as far as the fork.
There the division of waters left the wider stream to the right. But that to Brook’s left offered the prettier outlook. It stretched almost straight before him to some distance and descended in a little rapids. These looked easy, he thought, and though there were rocks, the water looked shallow enough for a good swimmer not to be troubled with any difficulty about reaching shore or a rock in case the canoe upset.
A little peninsula, dotted with green trees and bushes, jutted out from the left shore. Brook thought he caught a glimpse of someone moving there and started into the left fork of the stream.
“After all,” he reflected, “as the crow flies I’m only a couple of miles from camp. Maybe Jimmy and Alf have been out exploring and are over there on the point.”
Then he saw something that made him paddle faster than ever. He could hear the sound of dashing waters further on but he was too excited to pay any attention to it. What he had glimpsed looked like a human body, sprawling half in and half out of the bushes of a cove on the point.
Brook nosed his canoe into the cove, beached it, and climbed up the gentle incline. Then he saw that what had attracted his attention was only an old tattered coat. It was rain-shriveled and had obviously been flung over a rock to dry. But from the stream it had looked like the torso of a human body.
“Well,” Brook sighed with relief. “Thank goodness no one was hurt or killed.”
He went into the brush, past a few spruces, and found a small clearing. In the mud here were footprints which had obviously been made very recently. It had rained the night before, clearing just before dawn. Sometime between then and now someone had walked across the clearing and into the brush. And back again into the woods on the other side of the clearing, Brook reflected as he studied the footprints.
Whoever it was might have hung his coat on the rock to dry if he had been caught in the early morning rainstorm.
“Probably a tramp,” he decided and went back to the coat. He lifted it rather gingerly, and then, because he could not resist the temptation, turned its pockets inside out. To his surprise, he found in the last pocket a letter. It looked as though it had been soaked by the rain and had been dried again by the sun which had been shining upon the coat and rock all morning.
The address upon the torn envelope was blurred, and Brook’s curiosity was hindered by the fact that it was almost lunch time and it might be well to hurry back. Sticking the letter into the waterproof zippered pocket of his bathing trunks, he hurried to his canoe, pushed out and entered the stream again.
As Brook got back into the middle of the stream he suddenly discovered that no paddling was necessary to make his canoe go! The descent which looked so gradual drew canoe and the water itself down rapidly. The current was much stronger than one would have thought! Brook used his paddle skillfully. He was enjoying this exhilarating experience. It was great!
But when he tried to skim around a few rocks to the point, he almost upset the canoe and only by a quick push from a rock did he avoid being thrown out. But the canoe righted and Brook sped on, past the peninsula, around into a wider channel, for which Brook was at first glad. There was more space between rocks.
But the current was stronger, his control over the canoe was getting a little out of hand. Brook was just beginning to realize that he had had no business coming off by himself, when he heard the sound of the falls. His face grew pale, but he set his lips. The current drew the canoe out into a wider part of the river, and when Brook looked ahead for a minute he could see a white spray dashing high over a pile of obstructing rocks. It did not seem so bad off to the right, and Brook tried to edge over in that direction.
But what he saw ahead of him made him sick. It was still some distance away, but the water was boiling over at a little curve and fell somewhere below—he could not tell where!
CHAPTER 10
JIMMY TO THE RESCUE
Back at camp, shortly after Brook paddled off by himself, Jimmy and Alf decided that they had had enough swimming for one day.
“Race you to shore,” Jimmy yelled, flailing the water in a fast crawl. Alf was slightly ahead of him, but Jimmy soon passed him and was the first to throw himself on the beach, crowing breathlessly, “Beat you!”
“By a mere inch,” Alf said, flopping down beside him. “Where’s Brook?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Probably back in the hut helping Pat prepare a feast for our lunch. That guy’s always hungry.”
“So am I,” Alf said. “It’s your Michigan air. But I don’t think Brook is with Pat. I saw him drag one of the canoes into the water just before our race. I was too busy trying to keep up with you to see what he did after that.”
“What difference does it make?” Jimmy demanded. “Let’s go exploring by canoe ourselves. We can dry off in the sun just in time for lunch.” He pointed. “I want to investigate that fork of the first stream over there.”
“I want to eat,” Alf said. “I’m starving. But if you must satisfy your curiosity before I satisfy my hunger, I suppose you must.”
“I can’t let you eat now anyway,” Jimmy said with a grin. “If I did there wouldn’t be anything left for Brook when he shows up.”
“I’ll say there wouldn’t,” Alf agreed, tightening the belt on his trunks. “I could catch a fish right now with my bare hands and eat it while it’s still alive.”
&n
bsp; “You just had breakfast,” Jimmy said. “Come on!”
Alf lazily shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted up at the sky. “About four hours ago by the sun,” he said stubbornly.
Jimmy yanked him to his feet and called out to Pat: “We’re going canoeing. Back in time for lunch.”
“Okay,” came Pat’s voice from inside the cabin.
“You bet we’ll be back for lunch,” Alf said as he and Jimmy glided out upon the lake. “What’s the coil of rope doing in the canoe?”
“I brought it along so we could climb a bee tree if we found one,” laughed Jimmy. “Anyhow it belongs to Pat. I think it’s some of Theresa’s clothesline.”
The boys turned into the stream, and when they came to the forking of the water, they entered the narrower stream toward its right shore, where the waters seemed quieter. While Alf paddled, Jimmy made a loop of the rope and tossed it toward a stout little spruce.
“This comes in handy,” said Jimmy, as the rope caught and Alf paddled in close to the shore. “This current is certainly strong,” he added soberly. “And I imagine if we got caught in the center we’d be headed for the falls.”
“Are there falls near here?” Alf asked.
“I think so. Don’t you hear them?”
Alf agreed and they discussed Jimmy’s plan of either drawing the canoe ashore and footing it down, or easing the canoe along the right shore. But there was a tangle of underbrush along the bank and the footing was uneasy. They decided to risk it because they had the rope to throw out to some tree so they could keep out of the current. They kept very close to the shore and before they reached the peninsula, they beached the canoe in a curve that was almost a pool and hastened, over sticks and brush and stones, to see what lay farther down.
“Well, we were smart to land, Jimmy,” said Alf, as they stood looking at the stream where it flowed beyond the little peninsula. “But it certainly is pretty. We’ll have to watch our step getting down where we can see the falls. Doesn’t she foam where she is going over? Do you imagine the falls are high?”
The Third Girl Detective Page 58
