The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

by Campbell, Julie

  “Get some water, please, Mart,” Trixie said. “Cold water from the spring inside the cave. I’ll make a compress.” She pulled her scarf from her neck, dipped it into the water Mart brought, and folded it across the man’s forehead. He relaxed at once, visibly relieved.

  “Let Brian examine him,” Honey said. “He’s going to be a doctor,” she explained proudly to Bill Hawkins.

  “There aren’t any broken bones,” Brian said. “It’s mostly his head that’s hurt. Trixie, you and Honey keep changing that compress. There—see—he’s opening his eyes.”

  Bill Hawkins drew a quick breath. “It’s the stranger from the ghost cabin! With all those blond whiskers, no wonder everyone took him for a white-haired ghost. He’s coming to now, isn’t he?”

  Weakly the man raised his hand, brushed it across his eyes as though to clear his vision, attempted to sit up, blinked at the girls, then shook his head sadly. “No,” he said to himself, “it’s not either of them.”

  “Take it easy, sir,” Brian warned. “You’ve been badly hurt!”

  “My head!” the man said. “Where am I? Where’s Slim?”

  “You’re with friends,” Uncle Andrew assured him. “We’ll take care of you as soon as you feel a little stronger. As for Slim, he’s trussed up down there on the beach, waiting for the sheriff.”

  “He had no right to jump on me,” the man said. “I was only trying to help the young people.”

  The Bob-Whites looked at one another, puzzled. “Where am I?” the man asked again, blinking in bewilderment.

  “Outside a cave on the shore of Lake Wamatosa,” Uncle Andrew said. “Don’t worry about it now. Save your strength.”

  “Lake Wamatosa!” the man repeated, his blue eyes full of wonder. “Lake Wamatosa!... I remember it! Did you hear what I said? I remember it!”

  “It’s like I thought,” Bill Hawkins said in a low voice as his forefinger traced a circle at his forehead. “He’s crazy.”

  “I don’t think so,” Uncle Andrew said. “I don’t think so at all. Are you feeling stronger?” he asked the man.

  “I can walk all right,” the man said and raised himself. He shook his head dizzily, then got to his feet. “If you will just get me across to the other side, there’s someone there I’ve got to find.”

  “We’ll take you,” Jim said, and he and Brian put the man’s arms across their shoulders and half led, half carried him down to the boat.

  Bill Hawkins quickly checked the ropes trussing Slim, then joined the others. “I’ll go along, just in case,” he said. “That one’ll keep until I come back for him.”

  “What did that man mean about helping us?” Trixie asked Honey. “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t know. Too many things are happening. I’m so bewildered I don’t know what to think.”

  “Me, too,” Trixie said. “It’s a real mystery.”

  It was a little harder to get the stranger up the winding path from the lake to the lodge.

  “That isn’t the path!” he kept protesting. “Now, if you’ll just let me find the way myself.... This is not the path!”

  Uncle Andrew, Bill Hawkins, and the boys persisted, however. They wanted Mrs. Moore to bandage the man’s head and give him a hot drink.

  “This path leads to my lodge,” Uncle Andrew said. “You can rest there. It’s at the top of this cliff. When you feel better, you may go on by yourself.”

  “I don’t know this path,” the man muttered. “I’m not sure I know you. But you’re mighty kind, stranger, mighty kind.” His voice weakened, and his body sagged. “I guess I could take a little help, boys.”

  He collapsed, and the boys carried him the rest of the way to the lodge, up the steps, and into the big living room, where they lowered him to the couch. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I thought I could make it.... I’ve got to keep going... so close now... so close....”

  “Now,” Bill Hawkins said, “I’ll get Slim and dump him into the mule wagon. If you’ll lend me the mules, I’ll turn him over to Sam Owens.”

  Mrs. Moore and Linnie had been working in their own cabin, but when they heard the Bob-Whites’ voices, they hurried over to the lodge.

  Uncle Andrew met them at the door. “A man’s been hurt,” he told Mrs. Moore. “We need your help.”

  Mrs. Moore hurried anxiously to the couch and bent over the injured man. His eyes were closed. “Is he badly hurt?” she inquired. “How did it happen?” At her voice, the man’s blue eyes opened wide. “Annie!” he cried. “My Annie!”

  “God in Heaven!” Mrs. Moore cried, down on her knees, her face close to the stranger’s. “Is it Matthew? Back from the dead? Is it his ghost?” She ran her hand over the cloud of blond hair and whiskers. “Oh, Matthew, speak to me! What happened? Are you alive? Mr. Belden, where was he? Is he man or ghost?”

  “He’s alive, Mrs. Moore,” Uncle Andrew said gently, hardly able, himself, to speak.

  “Is it really your father?” Trixie asked, her voice filled with awe. “Linnie, can it be your very own father, alive?”

  “If Mama says so,” Linnie said, her voice trembling. “If she knows him, then it’s my daddy!” She dropped on her knees and put her arm across her father. “Oh, Daddy,” she cried, tears streaming, “we needed you so!”

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s brother-in-law’s aunt’s sister,” said Mart and broke the tension. “Jeepers creepers, do things ever happen to us! He’s been living in the old ghost cabin a short way from here. Why didn’t he let his family know?”

  “I think something happened, and he lost his memory,” Brian said thoughtfully. “It does happen. When his head was battered by Slim, his memory must have returned.”

  “I think you’re right,” Jim agreed. “Gee, I’m sure glad for Mrs. Moore and Linnie.”

  “And how!” Mart said. “I’ll bet the first thing he’ll want is a shave. That blond halo fooled a lot of people. He made a number-one ghost. And, say, he’s been up to some queer tricks... that bundle over his shoulder, those gunshots, all that wandering around he’s done, scaring people. Gosh, look at Jacob, licking his hand.”

  “Yes, that’s one of the things that seemed strange about the ghost,” Trixie said, “the way Jacob followed him and never barked at him.”

  “I always told you horses and dogs know a lot more than people think they do,” Honey said. “Isn’t it all just wonderful?”

  “He still has a few things to clear up,” Mart said skeptically.

  When Matthew Moore had rested and was stronger, he cleared up quite a few things.

  “I was hunting over near Wagon Trail, south of Springfield,” he said. “You know, Annie, that wild country where I liked best to go. One day I ran into a man—a bad man, a very bad man—in the woods. He wanted me to give him money. You know, Annie, I never had much money—just fished, slept outdoors, and camped. He grabbed my knapsack when he found I hadn’t any money, and he jumped on me and tried to kill me. He tried to shove me off the cliff where we were. I struggled with him, and we both went over. I hit a ledge; then I guess I blacked out. He went on down, over the cliff.”

  “Then it must have been his body they found,” Mrs. Moore said, her voice low. “He had your knapsack. They sent it to me, Matthew.”

  “And you thought I was dead? Oh, Annie! I was worse than dead. I’ve been worse than dead for all these years. Linnie was only four....” His voice quivered, and he held his daughter’s hand tight.

  “Where have you been all these years?” Mrs. Moore asked, her voice filled with concern. “Have you been sick, Matthew?”

  “Some men who were surveying found me on the ledge where I fell. They took me to Springfield, and no one there knew who I was. I couldn’t tell them. I was in a hospital. They gave me good care, but they couldn’t bring my mind back. When I was strong again, I worked around the hospital grounds. I saved the money they paid me. I’ve got a good bit, Annie. No one robbed me. I’ll get it for you.”

  “Didn’t y
ou remember me or Linnie?” Mrs. Moore asked.

  “In the back of my mind I did. There was something that bothered me all the time. When I’d see a young girl, I’d try so hard to remember. I must have been thinking of Linnie. That’s why I was so glad I shot that wildcat. I thought every young girl I saw might be mine.”

  “Then it was you who saved my life!” Trixie cried. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Moore. It was you!”

  “It was a fair exchange, as it turned out,” Matthew Moore answered. “You and the other young ones just saved my life and brought me home!”

  “How did you happen to come back to this part of Missouri?” Uncle Andrew asked, eager to have him tell the whole story.

  “That’s one thing I just don’t know. Finally I thought I couldn’t stay at that hospital one day longer. I had to start wandering. If I wandered, I might somehow get to a place where someone would know me.”

  “It must have been instinct that led you to these woods,” Uncle Andrew said.

  “Mama thought you were Daddy’s ghost,” Linnie said. “You sang that song, ‘Sorrow, Sweet Sorrow,’ didn’t you? Did you leave the turkey and squirrels for us? Did you? And the little lame bird?”

  “I’m still a little dazed, honey,” Matthew Moore said. “It’ll all come back, I know. All I do know now is that there was always something different in the air here—something that I knew. Now I’m home.”

  “Yes, Matthew,” Mrs. Moore said, a prayer of thanks in her voice, “now you’re home.”

  A Just Reward ● 18

  UNCLE ANDREW FELT deep concern for Matthew Moore. There was a great bump on his head, and his eyes were swollen and black. “I think Linnie and one of the boys should drive to town to get Dr. Manning,” he said.

  “Annie’s the only doctor anyone ever used to need around here,” Matthew said. “She can put a mullein poultice on my head and mix a sassafras tonic. In a few days, I’ll be as good as new. There’s never been a real doctor in White Hole Springs. He’d starve to death.”

  “There’s a doctor there now, Matthew—young Seth Manning,” Mrs. Moore told him.

  “How did a Manning ever get to be a doctor? There must be a dozen children in that family.”

  “There are, and six of them are working their way through high school at the School of the Ozarks. That’s where Seth went. He did so well that a doctor in St. Louis backed him to go to medical school. Now he’s come back to the hills to practice. That School of the Ozarks is a wonderful school.”

  “That’s a fine thing for anyone to do,” Matthew Moore said, “work to be a doctor. Mr. Belden, I don’t need a doctor. All I need is to go to our cabin and rest. I feel real good. If you still think I need a doctor tomorrow, then Linnie can get him when you all go into town with these young people. Annie, I feel real proud of that money I saved. Since I’ve been at that cabin, I’ve been digging ginseng, too, and I’ve got a good bundle of it stored away. It’ll bring a good sum.”

  “Just to have you alive is all I want,” Mrs. Moore told her husband.

  “That Slim knew I had the ginseng,” Matthew Moore continued. “He tried to steal it. Every time I saw him in the woods, I shot my rifle. That scared him off. He’s nothing but a big coward and a bully.”

  “You can say that again!” Mart said.

  Matthew Moore’s voice grew stronger with indignation. “He stole that bait bucket, too, that belonged to the little girl. He tried to sell it to Mr. Glendenning. Mr. Glendenning is a good man. He had no time for Slim. After you young ones left the cabin that night, I took your bucket back to that cave. When you were away yesterday afternoon, I sat up there on the cliff with my rifle trained on the cave, too. I wasn’t going to let Slim steal anything from you again.”

  “That’s the miracle that kept Slim away afterward,” Trixie said. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Moore. And you knew that we were at your cabin that night? Did you fire those shots?”

  Matthew Moore’s face saddened. “Yes. I fired them to scare Slim. He was in that woods. I wanted to keep him away from you. About the one thing that he’s afraid of is a gun.”

  “That makes me ashamed,” Trixie said. “I thought that bundle you had over your shoulder was my bait bucket and fish.”

  “It was my ginseng. I was putting it in my hiding place. It’s still there, Annie. It’ll help Linnie go to that school. I don’t blame you at all, Trixie,” he continued. “Slim tried all the time to throw suspicion on me. I only wish I’d known what he was up to before he set that fire.”

  “That’s another thing that makes me ashamed,” Trixie said. “I even thought at one time that you and Mr. Glendenning might have helped Slim set the fire. I saw someone lurking around the cabin that night, and I heard someone sing Linnie’s song.”

  “I was there, all right. The song tormented me. I couldn’t remember things. When I got back to my cabin, I smelled smoke and saw the glow of the fire. I hurried back with buckets and tried to wet the ground around the pines with water from the spring up there.”

  “Oh, Matthew, I told Trixie it was your spirit singing that song....”

  “Now, Annie,” Matthew Moore said, “I hope we have a lot of years ahead before we turn to spirits. I’d like to go to our own home now, just you and me and Linnie together.”

  Jim, Brian, and Mart helped the injured man to his feet, and, leaning on them, he managed to walk to the cabin. Trixie and Honey followed the family, too excited at the remarkable turn of events to part from the “ghost.”

  When the boys had helped Matthew Moore to the rocking chair in the cabin living room, the Bob-Whites tactfully left the family to themselves. “We’ll get our own dinner,” Trixie told Mrs. Moore. “You just stay home with your husband and Linnie.” Gratefully Mrs. Moore agreed.

  “Gosh, I feel sort of creepy,” Mart said as they returned to the lodge. “It’s as if a dead person had actually come back to life.”

  “That’s practically true,” Trixie answered. “Jeepers, when you think of all the things that have happened here!”

  “And what has to happen yet before we get the reward for finding the fish,” Brian added.

  The boys insisted on going down to Ghost River for a last try at fishing. When they came back with a string of bass, Trixie and Honey had the pan ready for them on the big cookstove. Uncle Andrew, lured to the kitchen by the shouting and laughing he heard, offered to mix a salad of crisp wild greens, tender lettuce, and onions from the garden.

  It was a happy group that sat at the table their last night at the lodge. The bass were golden brown. The salad was crisp and the dressing superb. They had young green corn plunged in hot water as soon as it was gathered and husked, and there were tiny pickled beets, mashed potatoes with butter, and, for dessert, a spicy deep-dish apple pie.

  “Mrs. Moore made this pie, and she should have some of it for their dinner,” Trixie said. “I’ll just run over with some.”

  Uncle Andrew shook his head. “I don’t believe I would. Mrs. Moore can make a cordon bleu dinner out of canned squirrel and poke greens. They need to be by themselves this evening. It’s wonderful what’s happened to them. Mrs. Moore has been so courageous all these ten years.”

  “Linnie, too,” Trixie said.

  Uncle Andrew nodded. “Things are going to be much better for the family from now on. You know, I’d gladly have helped send Linnie to the School of the Ozarks, but she’ll be much happier the way it is. She’ll have to work for part of her room and board. Everyone who goes there does that. And she’ll have her father to help now, as well as her mother.”

  “Matthew Moore can’t make a living digging ginseng and selling it, can he, Uncle Andrew?” Trixie asked with concern.

  “Partly. There’s a good price on ginseng. It’s exported, mostly to China. The Chinese think it’s a miracle drug that will cure everything. Aside from that, I need Matthew here at the lodge. Bill Hawkins would like to be able to spend more time farming his own place, and he’ll be glad to turn his job here over to Matthew.�
�

  After dinner, the Bob-Whites washed the dishes and left the kitchen shining for Mrs. Moore in the morning. Then they went upstairs to pack.

  The next morning, Matthew Moore, looking much younger with his hair and beard trimmed, insisted on harnessing the mules for Linnie. “It’s marvelous to have my daddy here,” she said. “Mama says we’re a family once again. Are you all ready to go?”

  “We’ll never get on the plane with all the stuff we’ve collected here,” Trixie said sadly and looked at a growing accumulation of bags and boxes being brought to the wagon. “We’ll just have to leave all the spelunking equipment here.”

  “Do that!” Uncle Andrew said enthusiastically. “Then you’ll be back next summer. Only next time, we’ll explore the foothills and lakes and go easy on caves. I’ve hardly seen you except at breakfast and dinner.”

  “We’ll do more rock hunting, too,” Brian said. “There are minerals in these foothills that our government needs right now. I’d like to locate some of them. Jim and I have samples we’re going to send to the

  AmericanMuseum of Natural History when we get back to Sleepyside.”

  “Maybe you’ll find your fortune in these Ozark hills,” Uncle Andrew said seriously. “It wouldn’t be too bad a place, either, for your school for boys.”

  “They could use some doctors around here, too,” Brian said earnestly.

  “And the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency, too,” Trixie said. “Don’t forget that!”

  “I’ll never forget it,” Uncle Andrew said.

  “Some good advice about farming from Mart Belden, graduate agriculturist, would help, too,” Mart said. “Jeepers, it’ll be years before any of us finish college. By that time, we may want to locate on the moon or Venus.... Someone help me lift this tank into the wagon, and we can be going. The famous Shem and Japheth Transportation System moves slowly. We still have a lot of business to look after and a train to catch.”

  The Bob-Whites said an affectionate good-bye to Mrs. Moore and thanked her for everything she had done for them while they were at the lodge.