“Wonder who he is,” Bert thought, as he noted a stocky figure hiding under a black cape held loosely over a dark blue ski cap and jacket. The person ran across the field and disappeared in the woods beyond.
Meanwhile, Nan, the small twins, and the Carfords had hurried out to join Bert. “That could be Danny,” Freddie suggested.
“But what would Danny be doing out here?” Nan asked, puzzled.
“And why should he throw rocks at my chickens?” Mr. Carford demanded.
Thoughtfully Bert said, “Remember the pocketknife business? You helped clear me, Mr. Carford. I showed Danny up, and he probably holds a grudge against us both. That is—if it was Danny!”
“I’d say the stone-thrower, whoever he is, needs a good talking to!” Miss Carford exclaimed tartly, and her brother agreed.
“I’m going after him!” Bert exclaimed, and Nan, Flossie, and Freddie cried in unison, “Me too!”
With the older boy in the lead, the twins dashed across the field and entered the woods. The culprit was out of sight, but had left a fresh trail of footprints in the snow.
“We’d better hurry, or he’ll get away!” Bert urged.
The twins ran as fast as they dared, slipping and sliding in the snow. Presently the boy’s footprints they were following merged with those of men. The trek continued, however. Gradually one set of the larger footprints after another led off to narrow side paths. But the smaller tracks went on through the woods.
“Now we policemen are getting somewhere,” Freddie said manfully.
He had just finished speaking when Bert, who was still in the lead, stopped suddenly. “The tracks end here,” he announced. “And the snow is all packed down as if someone had sat down.”
Nan pointed ahead. “Weren’t those thin lines made by ice-skate runners?” she asked.
“Of course!” said Bert. “Good for you, Nan! This is a frozen stream which runs into Lake Metoka. It’s covered with snow. Whoever threw those rocks must have skated away from here. Let’s follow the marks!”
The twins went on. In a few minutes the stream widened. Suddenly Bert stiffened. He pointed across the frozen water to a point near the far bank.
A boy dressed in a blue ski cap and jacket was skating slowly in a circle!
“That’s Danny!” all four children exclaimed.
As they watched, the boy hurled a large stone at something on the bank. There was a flurry of snow and a squirrel scampered away.
“The meanie!” Flossie cried out.
“That and his clothes are pretty good proof Danny threw the rocks at Mr. Carford’s chickens,” Bert declared. “I’m going over and see.”
“We’ll go with you,” the others responded.
The twins started off across the snow-covered stream. When they were about fifty yards from the boy, Bert yelled, “Hey, Danny!”
Startled, Danny spun about, almost falling on the ice as he did so. His face clouded with anger at sight of the Bobbseys.
“What are you kids doing way out here?” Danny sneered. “Aren’t you scared of getting lost?”
“We’re looking for someone wearing a blue ski cap and jacket who was at Mr. Carford’s farm,” Bert replied. “He was throwing rocks at the chickens.”
Freddie put in, “Danny, what did you do with your black cape?”
Danny looked indignant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he blustered.
“I’ll explain,” Bert said quietly. “We followed the tracks of the rock-thrower. They led us right here to you!”
“You think you’re such smart detectives, don’t you?” Danny yelled. “Well, this time you’re wrong! I wasn’t near any farm, and I don’t own any black cape!”
With that he lashed out at Bert, hitting him squarely on the chin. More surprised than hurt, Bert staggered back off balance. His foot slipped and he fell, sliding on his back across the ice.
Nan’s eyes grew wide with alarm. Her twin was sliding head first toward a ragged tree stump on the bank!
“Look out!” Nan cried, lunging toward Bert in an attempt to save him from a bad injury.
Before she could help, Freddie was tripped by Danny and the little boy sprawled full length in front of her, face downward.
Nan’s warning, however, had alerted Bert to his danger. With all the strength he could muster, Bert dug his right heel into the snow-covered ice, then pushed hard with his right hand. The two actions turned the direction of his slide, and he avoided the stump !
At last he stopped sliding. Bert scrambled to his feet and hurried to the side of Freddie, who had had the wind knocked out of him.
“Freddie, are you okay?”
“I—I guess so,” the little boy answered. “But give Danny a punch for me.”
“Yes,” said Flossie. “He’s the worst boy in Lakeport.”
But doing this proved to be impossible. Danny was skimming rapidly down the stream. The Bobbseys would never be able to catch him without skates!
Bert shook his head in disgust. “I sure muffed it letting Danny get away! But I’ll corner him tomorrow,” he promised himself, “and find out the truth!”
The four children returned to the farmhouse and a few minutes later were homeward bound in Mr. Carford’s car. When they reached the Bobbsey house, Nan invited him to come in.
The old man smiled. “As a matter of fact, if you hadn’t, I was going to invite myself in.”
The twins’ father greeted the caller cordially, took his coat, then introduced him to Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I hear you’re having furnace trouble,” Mr. Carford remarked, “and are talking of going to a hotel for the holidays.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Bobbsey replied.
Suddenly Mr. Carford drew a key case from his pocket. “These belong to Snow Lodge,” he said. “I would be very happy if you and your family would spend the holidays at the lodge.”
“Why, how very kind of you!” Mrs. Bobbsey exclaimed, and the twins gave whoops of joy.
“Not at all,” Mr. Carford smiled. “I don’t know anyone who would enjoy the place more, unless—”
The old gentleman did not finish his sentence and Nan noted that her father darted a sympathetic glance toward Mr. Carford.
“At any rate,” their guest continued briskly, “the place is yours for as long as you wish to use it. What do you say?”
Mr. Bobbsey grinned. “We accept!” He took the keys. “You don’t know how I appreciate your offer. The children can have a real old-fashioned Christmas.”
“What do you mean, Daddy?” Flossie spoke up.
“I’ll explain later, little sweet fairy,” her father said, using his pet name for her.
Mr. Carford’s blue eyes twinkled as he turned to the children. “I’m sure you’d find plenty to do up there—ice skating, skiing, sledding. And if you have to stay indoors, there are several trunks in the attic that should provide good dress-up costumes. And then there are all sorts of secret closets in the place.”
“Oh boy, that’s for me!” Bert said excitedly.
Freddie and Flossie dashed across the room and threw their arms around the tall old man.
Nan turned to her father and pleaded, “Dad, please let’s go Thursday. Then we can get ready for our Christmas in the woods!”
“You’re welcome to go up there any time,” Mr. Carford said. “Well, I must be getting back or Emma’s supper will be ruined.” Then he added, “Suppose I pick you younger twins up after school tomorrow. We’ll play Santa Claus.”
Flossie spoke up. “We get out early—noon-time.”
“All the better. I’ll come for you here at the house directly after lunch,” Mr. Carford said.
Everyone crowded about the elderly man as Mr. Bobbsey helped him on with his coat.
Nan looked up at him. “Mr. Carford, if Mother and Dad will let us, would you mind terribly if we brought two more children?”
“Of course not,” the owner of Snow Lodge said. “The more the merrier. Did you ha
ve a couple of playmates in mind?”
“No. Our cousins,” Nan replied, and told Mr. Carford about the letters she and Bert had received.
“Have them, by all means,” the kindly old gentleman said.
Nan turned to her mother and father. “May we invite Harry and Dorothy to spend the holidays with us while their parents are away?”
Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey exchanged glances and nodded. “Go ahead,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “You know, I’m beginning to be really excited about this trip myself. Let’s try to start Thursday.”
“All right,” her husband agreed.
Nan flew to the telephone and put in first one call, then the other. There was no answer, and finally she received a report that bad storms had affected the systems and the lines were out of order.
“Oh dear!” said Nan. “What’ll I do? There isn’t time to send a letter.”
“Let’s telegraph,” Bert proposed. “Then Harry and Dorothy can call us when the phones are working again.”
The twins sat down to compose the messages, and Nan sent them. It was not until the family was seated at the table that Bert finally found an opportunity to ask his father about the mystery of Snow Lodge.
“Dad, did you do him a favor in the past?” he said.
“Yes,” Mr. Bobbsey replied slowly. “It’s not a very happy tale. Mr. Carford brought up his nephew, Dave Burdock, after the lad’s mother died. He gave the boy many things and, I’m afraid, spoiled him to the extent that Dave had little regard for money.”
“What did he do?” asked Flossie, wide-eyed.
“Dave liked to spend freely,” Mr. Bobbsey continued, “and though his uncle gave him a generous allowance, Dave frequently asked for more. One day, when he was eighteen years old, he asked Mr. Carford for a large sum and his uncle refused him—for the very first time.
“The two had an argument. Later in the day Mr. Carford missed a stack of bills he had left on a mantelpiece, intending to bank the money on his trip into town that day. Since Dave and Mr. Carford were the only ones at home, Mr. Carford accused the boy of taking the money.”
“Did he?” Freddie asked.
“Dave said he was innocent,” his father replied. “But his uncle didn’t believe him. They had a violent quarrel and Dave, deeply hurt by the accusation, left Snow Lodge. He vowed never to return or to see his uncle again until his name was cleared.”
“What a pity!” Mrs. Bobbsey sighed. “But you helped him, Dick, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” her husband said.
Mr. Bobbsey added that he had known Dave and believed that he was innocent.
“I found him a room in town and gave him a job at the lumberyard until he could decide what he wanted to do. This was five years ago, when Nan and Bert were young children and Freddie and Flossie were babies.”
“What does Dave do now?” Bert asked.
“Dave loves the outdoors, so he works as a guide for winter sportsmen in the woods not far from Snow Lodge. He lives in a cozy cabin near there. In the summer, Dave goes to the North Woods as a fishermen’s guide. But he has never forgiven his uncle for accusing him of the theft.”
“What about the money?” Nan asked.
“That’s still a mystery,” Mr. Bobbsey replied.
“Thinking that a prowler might have broken in, the police made a thorough search of Snow Lodge. But there was no sign of any intruder. They finally decided that the money might have fallen into the fireplace, where a blaze was burning, and been destroyed.”
“Poor Mr. Carford—and poor Dave,” said Nan. “No wonder Mr. Carford looks sad sometimes. I’ll bet he misses his nephew.”
Mr. Bobbsey nodded. “Yes, he’s heartsick about the whole affair. You know, Dave is his heir, along with Mr. Carford’s sister Emma. I think the old gentleman would like to forget the incident, but Dave is very proud—”
The twins were silent for a moment, thinking about the puzzle. Mr. Bobbsey left the room, saying he wanted to make a telephone call.
“If we go to Snow Lodge, let’s search for the money,” Freddie suggested.
“Sure,” Bert agreed. “It might still be there somewhere.”
CHAPTER VII
THREE SANTAS
THE next day school was adjourned at noon, marking the beginning of the Christmas vacation. The Bobbseys hurried home and learned that lunch would be a little late. Dinah had spent most of the morning helping the twins’ mother pack and bake holiday cookies to be taken to Snow Lodge.
“Isn’t it ’citing?” Flossie said.
At this instant the telephone rang, and Nan rushed to answer it “Dorothy!” she shrieked. “You got my telegram?”
“Sure. It was delivered yesterday. The phone lines have just been fixed.”
“Can you come?” Nan asked. “Oh, I hope—”
“Guess what!” Dorothy cried out. “I’m packed and ready to take the train! Can you meet me?”
“Can we?” Nan almost shouted.
“My train reaches Lakeport at five.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Good-by now. I have to run.”
A few minutes later Harry called Bert. “What time is supper at your house tonight?” he asked.
“You’re coming!” Bert yelled.
“You bet. I’ll be down on the bus. Be at your house by six.”
“That’s keen!” said Bert. “And Harry, there’s a mystery connected with Snow Lodge.”
“What! Oh boy, will we have fun solving it!” said Harry, then hung up.
While waiting for lunch, Flossie and Freddie huddled together on the sofa in the living room over a sheet of paper. They began to write out a list of everything they wanted to take with them to Snow Lodge.
“Flossie, how do you spell engine?” asked her twin.
“Like in fire engine?” Flossie teased, knowing very well that Freddie meant his toy firefighting apparatus.
“Naturally,” Freddie answered. “I have to take my hook and ladder set along.”
Flossie nodded seriously, for many times her brother had helped to put out little fires with his equipment. “But I’m not sure how it’s spelled,” she said dubiously.
Her twin shrugged. “Never mind, you can bet I won’t forget that toy.”
The little boy put down his pencil and jumped up. “I’d better test the engine now to make sure everything’s working right. We might have to use it at Snow Lodge some time.”
“Good idea, Freddie,” Flossie said approvingly. “I’ll come and watch you.”
In a few minutes Freddie had filled the pump of his truck with water and started to race from room to room, putting out imaginary fires. While Flossie watched, he squirted the fireplace and a large plant on a living-room table.
“It works perfectly,” he said with satisfaction.
Just then there was a sharp cry from the kitchen.
“That sounded like Dinah!” Flossie exclaimed, and the twins raced to the kitchen.
For a moment they could see nothing but a cloud of thick gray smoke billowing toward them. Flossie ran shouting for her mother, who was upstairs. With his eyes smarting, Freddie entered the room. In alarm, he saw that flames were shooting from the broiler in the range. Some grease must have caught on fire! But where was Dinah?
Dashing back for his fire engine, Freddie returned to the kitchen. He was about to pump water on the fire when a voice cried out:
“Stop!” It was Dinah, who came hurrying from the pantry with a box in her hand. “Don’t use water on a grease fire, honey child. Use salt!”
The startled boy looked doubtful, but he grabbed the salt box from Dinah’s hand and poured the white crystals freely over the flaming grease.
As the fire sputtered and was finally extinguished, Flossie and Mrs. Bobbsey rushed into the kitchen.
“Freddie put the fire out,” said Dinah, and told what he had done. “He’s a real live fireman!”
“With your help,” Freddie said modestly. “Gee,” he added, “a real, hone
st-to-goodness fire, and wouldn’t you know I couldn’t try my pumper!”
Dinah, Flossie, and Mrs. Bobbsey laughed. “But from now on you’ll know exactly what to use on a grease fire,” Mrs. Bobbsey pointed out. “A good fireman should know about all types of extinguishers.”
Lunch was finally served and the twins ate hungrily. They had just finished when they heard the front door chimes ring. “I’ll see who’s there,” Flossie offered, skipping into the hall. “It’s probably Mr. Santa Claus Carford.”
It was the elderly man, ready to take them.
“Jingle-jangle!” cried Freddie, and raced to the door to greet Mr. Carford. “I’ll be ready in a flash!”
Mr. Carford chuckled and shook hands with Mrs.. Bobbsey, who had followed the twins. While she talked with their new friend, Freddie and Flossie dashed upstairs for extra sweaters and warm coats. On the way down, Flossie noticed that her twin was stuffing a toy hook and ladder inside his coat.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
Freddie blushed. “Well, I just thought maybe Mr. Carford wouldn’t have enough toys to go around for all the children on his list, and—say, what do you have there?”
He pointed to a pretty little doll with red hair that Flossie was tucking into the big pocket of her coat.
“I guess I had the same idea, Freddie.” Flossie grinned. “Let’s not tell anyone, though.”
“I promise.”
As the children were scrambling into the sleigh with Mr. Carford, they noticed that the whole back seat was piled high with baskets and packages. Maybe their toys would not be needed after all!
On the way to the first house, Mr. Carford said he was delighted that the Bobbseys would spend the holidays at Snow Lodge. “Your mother says it’s all arranged for you to go tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” Freddie answered, “and we’re going to look and look—”
A sharp nudge in the ribs by Flossie made him catch his breath. It was his twin’s way of warning him not to mention their plan to search for the missing money. Though they probably would not find it, bringing the subject up would remind Mr. Carford of his nephew.
The Bobbsey Twins and the Mystery at Snow Lodge Page 4
