Cherry Ames Boxed Set 13-16

by Helen Wells

She continued to watch, and presently the rowboat reappeared. It was loaded with some sort of cargo in sacks, which must have been heavy, for the boat was low in the water and the men were rowing with great effort. Upon reaching the fishing schooner, the sacks of whatever it was they contained, were put aboard, the men followed, then the rowboat was hauled up and stowed on deck. The fishing schooner sailed away to the south toward St. John’s.

  Cherry started back down the hill, her mind busy with what she had just seen.

  Within a short distance of the house, someone sang out gaily, “Hi, beautiful! How about a lift?”

  And there was Lloyd, driving along the road in one of the company’s “Bugs,” as he called the little two-seater cars that were used by the various department heads of the mines to get about on the island.

  Cherry walked over to the car. “Hello, Lloyd. I’d be glad of a lift. I’ve been up and down that big hill,” she said, getting in.

  “What were you doing, training for the next expedition to the top of Mount Everest?” he teased, reaching over and tugging a curl. “You look to be in fine condition for it, Miss Ames. Your cheeks are rosy red and your hair is fair glorious.”

  “Now, none of your flattery, Mr. Barclay,” Cherry said. “I want you to be serious. I’ve something important to tell you.”

  “I’m all ears,” he replied, grinning at her. Then, frowning exaggeratedly, he said, “Speak, fair lady.”

  “Oh, do be serious,” Cherry said, smiling in spite of herself. “A very strange thing happened on the hill this afternoon. I met …”

  “Ah, poor lass,” interrupted Lloyd, shaking his head sadly. “Ye must have run into Rorie Gill. He’s often on the hill.”

  “I wish you had told me,” said Cherry tartly.

  As though he had not heard her, Lloyd went on dolefully, with more head shaking, “Rorie Gill. I waudna have thought it. Usually you see him in the fall when the Hunter’s Moon is rising over the Balfour hills and crags.” His voice began to roll dramatically, as Lloyd continued, “Rorie rides by moonlight on his dark horse and mounts to the crest of the hill. There he sits, peering out to sea until he sights a rich-laden ship approaching Balfour Harbor. Then Rorie rides down again, and, with the hollow laughing cry of the loon, summons his merrymen around him.”

  Cherry laughed. “Lloyd Barclay, you are a much worse tease than my brother Charlie,” she accused him. “Please be serious for a moment.”

  “Na, na, Cherry lass, I’m no in the mood now,” he told her. “It’s not Uncle Ian or ye waudna be on the hill. So …” He shrugged.

  “Well, what makes you so playful this afternoon?” demanded Cherry. “And why are you coming home from the mines so early and as lightheaded and merry as a chipmunk?”

  “I’ll not tell you until you’ve had your say,” Lloyd replied with a self-righteous air. “You’re bursting to talk, so out with it.”

  They had reached the house and Lloyd drove up in front and stopped. “Let’s just sit here in the Bug,” he said.

  Cherry poured out everything in a rush, keeping back only the part about Jock Cameron. When she finished, Lloyd laughed heartily at her and said, “Cherry, this island is a great place to stimulate the imagination. You go ahead and be as fanciful as you like. But the facts are that there are good fishing grounds just beyond the rocks at Rogues’ Cave. In the old days, the Barclays reserved them for themselves. The fishermen have always respected the rights, I suppose you’d call them. And off-islanders have left Balfour waters to the Balfourians for the most part. But times have changed.

  “That fishing schooner you saw,” Lloyd went on to explain, “may belong to some off-islander. Those sacks could have been filled with sand to be used for ballast in the schooner. Might even have been rocks. They’re both used for ballast. Of course I don’t want fishermen using our bay and beach and making a nuisance of themselves.” He paused, thought a moment, then asked, “Would you describe the man again that you saw on the hill?”

  Cherry repeated the description she had given him of the short, muscular man. “I saw him once before,” she told Lloyd. “He was on the Sandy Fergus the day we came to Balfour.”

  “You know, Cherry, that must be Joseph Tweed, ‘Little Joe’ as he is called,” Lloyd said, his expression becoming stern. “He was hanging around outside the Mine Office last week. Someone pointed him out to me and said that Little Joe had been seen a number of times, talking to miners from Number 2 mine. I think you probably saw Little Joe again today. I can’t think why he’s hanging around the Island. Five or six years ago, Little Joe worked as a foreman in Number 2 mine. Then it was discovered that he was doing business as a loan shark on the side. If a miner had to borrow twenty-five or thirty dollars in a hurry, he would go to Little Joe and get it at once without any bankers’ formalities. Of course Little Joe charged about fifty cents interest on every dollar borrowed, and he wanted his money and interest back in a week or two. When Uncle Ian found this out, he fired Little Joe. He could have had the man arrested, but Uncle Ian let him off with a warning. Little Joe went to St. John’s and from all reports has done extremely well—owns property, a boat or two, has an interest in several businesses. He’s what is known in the States as a very smart operator and his reputation is none too good.”

  “What do you suppose he is doing on the island?” asked Cherry.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Lloyd replied. “I’m glad you told me all this, Cherry. Now I’ll be on the lookout. See if Little Joe is up to something.”

  “I think I’d better go in,” Cherry said. “It’s getting late.”

  Lloyd opened the car door and she got out.

  “Oh, by the way,” he said, “the entrance to the old mine shaft is on the top of the hill. Last time I was up there years ago, the opening was covered with boards and all grown over with vines and bushes. I don’t suppose you noticed it.”

  “No, I didn’t,” answered Cherry. “There’s a big rock sitting right on top of the hill.”

  “And I expect it was just a-sittin’ still, like the one in the verse that begins ‘I wish I was a little rock,’ ” Lloyd said with a big grin.

  “And ends ‘Doin’ nothin’ all day long, but just a-sittin’ still,’ ” Cherry quoted at random, returning his grin. She started to go, then stopped. “By the way, you were going to tell me what put you in such a happy, carefree mood today, Mr. Barclay.”

  “Tell you and Meg both at dinner,” he said.

  At dinner that evening Lloyd reported to Cherry and Meg that the work in the new mine was going by leaps and bounds under McGuire’s supervision. The ore was very high assay, a much greater yield of iron than had been anticipated. Things were not going badly, either, at old Number 2, under Jock Cameron.

  “I believe Balfour Mines may even make a profit this year if we can only keep it up,” Lloyd declared.

  “I hope so. Oh, I hope so,” said Meg earnestly.

  “Under the eagle eye of Mining Engineer Lloyd Barclay, I say they will,” Cherry declared grandly.

  CHAPTER X

  A Meeting in St. John’s

  SIR IAN HAD CONTINUED TO FEEL BETTER AND RESPOND well to the diet of bland foods that Dr. Mac had prescribed. Under Cherry’s direction, Tess, the cook, carefully prepared the small, frequent meals and took great pride in doing so.

  “But he’ll no get well entirely with all the proper food in the world,” Tess predicted. “He’s sore troubled in his mind. Sir Ian has to put up with the wild spending of his brother and sister in England. And the mines, too, na weel for so long. His fine, helpful brother, who was Master Lloyd’s father, died, and left Sir Ian to carry the whole burden of the Barclays. ’Tis muckle burden for one man.”

  Yet, in spite of his big burden, Sir Ian was recovering little by little under Cherry’s capable nursing care. No small part was due to Lloyd, who was slowly making his uncle realize that here was someone who was a true Barclay, worthy to take over the Balfour Mines someday. Bit by bit, Sir Ian’s m
ind was being relieved about the operation of the mines.

  It was during the fifth week that Cherry had been at Barclay House that Sir Ian began to walk about in the garden. He expressed a longing to take a ride in the car. Dr. Mac thought it a good idea. So on the following Sunday afternoon, Lloyd suggested that his uncle and Cherry go for a drive with him since it was the chauffeur’s Sunday off. Meg was going to the hospital with the doctor to help him catch up with some more paperwork in the office.

  “Da, we need a good hospital and proper professional assistance,” Meg said. “Douglas is working himself to the bone with all he has to do. And I don’t want to marry a bag of bones.”

  “I’d give him his hospital now if there was the money for it,” her father said.

  “Oh, Da dear, you talk like a feudal baron or something, making a gift to his retainers,” Meg told him. “The community has a right to an adequate hospital with adequate medical staff. This isn’t the Middle Ages, Da, you old darling.” She gave him a resounding kiss on the top of his head as he sat in the hall downstairs, waiting for Lloyd to bring the car around.

  Meg had started outside when Sir Ian called after her, “What’s this about marrying that sandy-haired pill pusher? Has he asked ye yet?”

  “No, but he will,” Meg answered merrily. “Only a matter of time now.” She paused, then added, “Oh, dear, I do hope Bess Cowan doesn’t make any of those dreary remarks of hers about the ‘turrible responsibilities of the wedded state’ before Douglas. I do wish someone cheerier were on duty today at the hospital.”

  Meg darted out the door, looking like a butterfly in her yellow dress, and into her car.

  A few minutes later Lloyd brought his car and Sir Ian settled himself comfortably in the back seat, while Cherry sat in front beside Lloyd.

  There was a good paved road that followed the shore almost all the way around the island. Lloyd drove through the village with its little frame cottages, scattered along the narrow streets winding up the hillsides or curving along the waterfront.

  They came to the hospital and Lloyd said, “Meg has been saying ‘We must take Cherry to see the hospital, I’m sure she’d like to visit it.’ But it was just one of those things we didn’t get around to doing. So I told myself that today’s the day Miss Ames visits our local hospital. How about it, Cherry?”

  “Of course I’d love it,” she said. “Do you mind, Sir Ian?”

  “Not at all. Not at all,” he replied.

  Lloyd turned the car off the road and into the drive that led to the back of the one-story, white frame building. He stopped in the parking space there.

  The hospital faced the road with its back to the bay. Cherry looked beyond the sandy beach to where it seemed countless small boats with white sails were skimming over the blue waters of Balmaghie Bay.

  Meg came running out the rear entrance of the building. “Hello, everybody!” she called.

  “Cherry, you and Lloyd go with Meg to see the hospital,” Sir Ian said. “I’m going to sit here in the car and enjoy watching the sailboats.”

  “Dr. Mac can show them around,” Meg said, laughing and getting into the car.

  Lloyd and Cherry went inside. A central hall ran through the building from front to back. The various rooms opened off this hall down which Dr. Mac was striding toward them.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise!” he cried.

  “I’ve brought Miss Ames to see Balfour Hospital,” announced Lloyd with exaggerated formality. “We want the dollar tour.”

  “That’s the Mackenzie Special,” replied the doctor with equal formality. “Right this way, folks!”

  It did not take the doctor long to show them around. The hospital was quite small—too small as Meg had pointed out to her father, to serve adequately the island’s population. There was no operating room, so patients in need of a serious operation had to go to St. John’s. The hospital needed more of everything from beds to laboratory equipment, but Cherry was impressed with how light, airy, and sparklingly clean the place was. It had the appearance of being well managed. And as Bess Cowan, the tall, gray-haired nurse, said as Cherry and Lloyd were leaving, “It’s thanks to Dr. Mackenzie that we can do so much with so little. Do you know, Miss Ames, this hospital is considered above average in quality of service, in spite of its inadequacies, because of him!”

  “Mac and I will see you at dinner,” Meg called after the car, as Cherry, Lloyd, and Sir Ian went around the drive and onto the road toward the mines.

  They passed the mines, stopping at one of them so Cherry could see the entrance shaft with its elevator to take the miners deep under the ground, and she had a look at some of the adits or exits from which the ore was brought by cars or conveyor systems.

  Lloyd kept pointing out what must be done about better facilities and new equipment. Only the new mine received Lloyd’s unqualified approval.

  “You really did yourself proud, Uncle Ian, on that new mine,” Lloyd told him. “The best and most modern pumps, conveyors, elevators, power drills—the works. It must have cost you a small fortune.”

  “It did,” Sir Ian said grimly.

  The road continued to Carse Point at the extreme north end of the island where the lighthouse stood, and there was a lifesaving station, and a Coast Guard cutter riding at anchor off shore.

  The road left Carse Point and ran now along the ocean side of the island, with beaches and coves, then climbed up to the cliffs.

  After a while, the road left the cliffs and turned across the island, winding through hills, dales, and woods until it brought them back to Barclay House.

  It was a delightful drive and all three of them enjoyed it immensely. Sir Ian appeared refreshed by it and not tired at all. That evening Sir Ian joined Lloyd and Meg in the library where Higgins, the butler, had laid a small fire in the fireplace. On Balfour, even in summer, the nights were cool.

  Cherry took the opportunity to catch up on her correspondence, which she had not found time to do that week. She had kept her mother and father up to date with events on the island, so they knew about Rogues’ Cave and the happenings on the hill of the abandoned mine. She wound up the letter with a description of the day’s trip around the island.

  On Tuesday, Cherry had a day off and planned a shopping trip to St. John’s. She liked walking and she needed another suitable pair of shoes. Her one pair had become quite worn from her daily walks on the rocky island. She could not find what she wanted in the little village store, so there was nothing to do but try the stores in St. John’s.

  She did not have to worry about Sir Ian, for Meg was going to take care of her father.

  “I’ll take you to the ferry when I go to work,” Lloyd told Cherry. “Then I’ll meet you when it returns this afternoon, and I’ll bring you back here.”

  So it was all settled when Cherry, Meg, and Lloyd went down to breakfast a few minutes past eight o’clock Tuesday morning.

  They drank their fruit juice. Then, Norah, the maid, brought in a plate of poached eggs to place with the cereal and other dishes on the buffet.

  Lloyd was lifting eggs onto his plate when Higgins came in to say there was a call for him.

  “I’ll take it in the library,” Lloyd said.

  A few moments later Cherry and Meg heard him shouting into the phone: “What do you mean the pump won’t suck? … Of course that pump hasn’t enough suction. Get the big power pump. … Oh! McGuire’s using it in the new mine. Never mind. … Never mind, I said. I’ll be right down.”

  Lloyd slammed down the receiver. Coming to the dining-room door, he informed Cherry and Meg that he had to rush down to the mines.

  “A leak has been found in one of the chambers of Number Two mine,” he told them. “It’s a chamber nearest the abandoned mine, and it’s flooded. Cameron left word at the office that he would be in St. John’s on business. McGuire has his hands full with the new mine. I’ve got to go down myself.”

  Lloyd gulped some coffee and hurried into the hall, calli
ng back over his shoulder, “I’m terribly sorry, Cherry, not to take you to the ferry. Please forgive me. Meg, look after Cherry, will you?” And he went outside and drove off in the Bug.

  After Lloyd left, Cherry told Meg how much she had enjoyed the drive around the island the Sunday before because she had been thinking ever since that she had never known a place so filled with beauty and legends. From talking about the island, the two drifted into talk about Rogues’ Cave.

  And Meg said, “Higgins knows all the old tales and he used to tell me stories by the hour. I suppose he told you how my grandda, when he was a boy, was lost in the cave.”

  “Oh, yes,” Cherry said. “And he said your grandfather used to do experiments in the room at the top of the tower and that he wrote in his secret journal by the light of a candle at night.”

  “That’s right!” exclaimed Meg. “When I was a little girl, I used to go up there, thinking I’d look for the secret journal. But I was much more interested in peering out through the telescope than in anything else.” She paused, then went on eagerly. “You know what, Cherry!”

  “No, what?” replied Cherry, grinning.

  “Let’s go up to the tower sometime and search together. We might even get Lloyd to go with us.” Meg stopped and considered that. “Oh, he wouldn’t go,” she decided. “He’d probably think it too childish for anything. But, Cherry, you’re in the house a lot. When you have a free hour or so, why don’t you go up to the tower room and look for Grandda’s secret journal yourself?”

  Cherry’s eyes sparkled. “Now, I think that would be fun!” she exclaimed. “A secret journal. A room in a tower. That’s an exciting combination.”

  Meg laughed gaily. “If you do decide to go when I’m not here,” she said, “look behind the tapestry that covers the end of the hall on the second floor. You’ll see an old ironwork door. Go through it and climb the stairs until you reach the very top of the tower.”

  Meg looked at the clock on the wall above the dining-room fireplace. “Oh, dear!” she cried out. “Cherry, I have to beg off taking you to the ferry. I promised Ramsay I’d see him first thing this morning and tell him where to plant the new shrubs. And if I know Ramsay, he’s champing at the bit this very minute. Smith will take you. I’ll tell him right away. I’d better run. Please excuse me, Cherry.”