Part 3

“All the time, dear?”

“Well, he teases me a lot. Sometimes in the morning he sticks his head in my door and sticks his tongue out at me, just to make me mad!”

“If you didn’t scream so, and make such a fuss, he wouldn’t pay any attention to you. You’ll have to learn to pass off some of the boy’s teasing with a smile. Don’t lose your temper.”

“Well, I’ll try,” grumbled Jane, “but he....”

“Not he,” her mother interrupted, “but I. Billy has to conquer his own faults and you must learn to handle yours. Get up now and let’s all have breakfast. Grandma and Aunt Claire may get here today if they don’t mind a little rain.”

Mother and daughter exchanged a brief smile and a brief kiss. Janie sat on the edge of her bed and swung her legs back and forth. All of a sudden she gave a good kick and one slipper hit the ceiling while the other flew into the open closet door. That was the end of her tantrum.

Billy’s head was bent over a huge bowl of corn flakes when Janie came up behind him and surprised him with a kiss.

“I’m sorry, bub.”

He stopped a moment, and then turned around,

“Okay, Okay! Boy, you went off like a fire siren. Do you still want to go fishing?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then hurry up and finish your breakfast, and let’s get out of here.”

Breakfast was out of the way in a hurry, and Mom offered to do the dishes if the children would make the beds.

James offered some of his best fat worms for the expedition, and was invited to go along. Davey decided he’d go without being invited. Looks were exchanged.

Davey was sort of a problem. He was four years younger than James and six years younger than Bill, but he was included in all their games and plans as an equal. That is, he was almost always included. Every so often he had to be told he was too little or too young.

Mom was most persuasive. “Butch and I would like to have you stay, dear. It would be lonely all morning without you. I thought, after I finished the dishes, I might walk over and see Mrs. William’s dog. Wouldn’t you like to go along?”

But David only looked woebegone. Billy said: “Aw, let him come along. I’ll take care of him.”

“Yes, Mom,” Janie pleaded, “There’s plenty of room, and I know he’ll be quiet and good.” Mrs. Murray consented and the expedition was on its way.

They wore sou’westers and raincoats. They took apples and cookies and bait and a bottle of water. Billy and James rowed and Davey sat in the front seat. Janie sat on the wide seat at the back and kept an eye on the bait.

“Let’s go over to the pond,” she said. “I have a feeling that they might be biting there.”

“Pond, ahoy,” called James, and they set out for the eastern shore of the lake. There were other boats out, and the children occasionally called out a greeting to a neighbor or a fishing acquaintance.

The boys took great sweeps with the oars, and the boat skimmed over the smooth water. Davey called out a warning about the big submerged rocks at the entrance to the pond, and Bill stood up and maneuvered the boat through the shallow rocky channel. Then through the cattails, the boat parted them as a comb parts hair. They swished and fell away at either side, and now, the pond at last.

Every one reached for his fish pole and selected his bait carefully. There was an almost church-like silence, broken only by the plop of the sinkers hitting the water.

James had the first strike, a bass, and his shrill squeal of delight must have been heard half way across the lake. He tossed it across to Janie, who dropped it into the basket.

Bill caught the next bass and Janie got the third. Fishing was really good, and in no time the basket was half full of flopping, slippery bass.

Davey had been lying flat on his stomach across the front of the boat, concentrating on some mysterious bubbles rising beside one of the big flat rocks. All of a sudden he let out a yell, and every one turned to see him pulling for all his might.

“Help! Help! Something is pulling my line away! Help! It’s awfully strong.”

Billy was beside him in an instant and grabbed the line. James fell down beside them and held Davey’s feet to keep him from going overboard, and Janie added to the commotion by jumping up and down and screaming: “Don’t tip the boat! Don’t tip the boat!”

Billy and Davey pulled with all their strength, and then out of the water there appeared a great, thrashing rubber-backed turtle!

He was securely hooked at the side of his leathery jaw, and he glared at his captors out of his little beady eyes, and he lashed the water like a twenty pound carp.

“Pull him in! Pull him in,” screamed James.

“No, no,” screamed Janie. “He’ll bite us!”

Bill played out a little more line and said, reasonably, “Every body sit down, and let’s figure out what to do.”

“He’s mine,” said Davey, in almost unbearable excitement. “I caught him, and I’m going to bring him home.”

“Why don’t you let him go?” said James. “That hook must be hurting his mouth.”

“Not so much as you think,” Janie offered. “I’ve heard Daddy say that the skin around a fish’s mouth is very tough, and a turtle’s must be even tougher. Anyway, we can’t get the hook out here, and we can’t cut the line and let him go off by himself with the hook sticking in him. I tell you what! Let’s tow him home!”

“Good idea,” exclaimed Bill, and they set about fastening the monster to the back of the boat. He was about three feet long and two feet across, and not at all agreeable. He tossed and yanked at the rope and it took both Billy and David to fasten him to the boat, while Janie rowed carefully out through the rocky channel. James waded behind, urging him along with a stick. They wouldn’t have been able to do anything with him at all, except that they made a sort of harness for him out of a length of clothes line. Billy used his cub scout knots and was quite proud of the result.

When they reached the main body of the lake James had to jump in, and by that time it had stopped raining, and was as steaming hot as could be. Rain coats and hats were quickly shed as they started back across the lake for home.

Old rubber-back tussled away at the line for all he was worth, and Billy was really worried. “You know,” he said, “I’ve read about boats being towed out to sea by giant turtles.”

“Aw shucks, Bill, you read too much,” said James. “Besides that was in the south seas. They have much bigger turtles there.”

“Just the same, I think this guy is pulling us off our course. I tell you what. Let’s haul him in the boat, and then we can make better time.”

“Nix, nix, nothing doing, my friend,” came firmly from Janie. “I promised Mom I’d see that Davey got home safely, and if you two boys start hauling a turtle into the boat, anything might happen.”

“Golly, Jane,” said Bill. “We’ll never get home this way. I’m pulling on the oars just as hard as I can, and he pulls as hard as he can in the opposite direction.”

The turtle settled it. Just as they spoke, he gave a lurch that pulled the boat out toward the center of the lake. Janie looked concerned. “Okay,” she said, “but please let’s be careful.”

Davey sat down in his place on the front seat and Janie took the oars, while the two boys knelt on the wide seat at the back, and rolled up their sleeves for the big pull. They braced themselves and pulled for all they were worth, and the old turtle came slowly up until his nose was against the boat. James reached down and grabbed him at one side of his shell and then Bill got the other side, and with a mighty heave they hauled him over the edge, and thrust him back into the boat. There he lay on his back, helpless, with his legs frantically clawing in all directions, and his wicked mouth opening and shutting.

Janie clung to the oars like mad and as the turtle hit the floor boards her feet flew up in the air, and one leg was perched safely at either rail of the boat. Davey was goggle-eyed and Bill was the first to recover his speech. He clapped Janie on the shoulder:

“Relax skipper. You can put your feet down now. He won’t bite you. He’s helpless as long as he’s flat on his back.”

“Oh no,” quavered Janie. “I’m taking no chances,” and she pulled her knees up under her chin.

“Well, all right then,” said Bill. “You get up there in front with Davey and I’ll row. It’s going to be hard rowing with so much weight at one end, but there’s no use telling you to walk past ‘old rubber-back’ to get to your seat.”

Janie gratefully gave up her position at the oars and went to sit with Davey at the front. “Golly, Jane,” he said. “What do you think of him? Isn’t he giant?”

“He sure is, honey,” said Jane, patting him on the back. “He sure is.”

They were coming along the eastern shore of the lake now and the steamy heat was making everyone thirsty. “Any water left back there, James?” called Bill.

“No, not a drop. I’m thirsty too.”

Billy took a long look at the distant pier that meant home and wet his lips.

“Boy, I’m thirsty. I tell you what let’s do. There’s a pump in the front yard of the haunted house. Let’s stop there and get a cold drink.”

This suggestion was strongly approved by the others, and Billy turned in at the ramshackle pier of the deserted house. Folks around Oak Lake called it the Mott place, but Dad said that no one had lived there for forty or fifty years. Ben, the handy man, said it was haunted, and Janie always shivered a little as she went past it, even on a bright sunny day like this one. It was a full three stories high, with turrets and gables and balconies. The decorations around the eaves looked like the ornamental icing on a wedding cake. It must have been very grand when it was new and nicely cared for. You could still see the outlines of the old gardens, but the flowers were long since choked out by the tall weeds. There was a fountain in the front yard too, rusty and dry. The figure of a little girl stood in the top basin. She was fat and dimpled and she held a protesting duck in her arms ... an iron one, of course. She must have stood there summer and winter for fifty years, and yet, somehow she didn’t look lonesome or unhappy. Ben said there used to be an elaborate group of stables on the place, but they burned down long ago. All that was left of the out-buildings was a small shack covered with tar paper. There was an evergreen windbreak all along the north side of the property, and the branches swayed and sighed in the wind. Janie really shivered this time.

“B’r’r’r,” she said. “This is the lonesomest place I ever saw. Let’s get out of here.”

“Aw,” said James, “you always talk just like a girl.” “There’s the pump,” called Bill. “I see it down there in those tall weeds. I’m so thirsty, I could drink a gallon.”

The boat nosed into the pier, and Davey was the first to step ashore. He raced over the wobbly boards and toward the pump calling, “First drink! First drink!”

Janie was at his heels and the boys stopped only long enough to fasten the boat and pick up the water bottle. Janie pumped until the water ran cold, and they splashed their faces with it and took long drinks.

Bill filled the bottle, and they started back for the boat, when suddenly out of the tumble down shack there appeared a big, ragged and dirty man. He waved his arms in the air and shouted at them,

“Get out of here, you trespassers, you! Get out of here or I’ll whale the daylights out of you!”

The children just stood for a moment, too frightened to move. He started toward them, waving a stick and shouting, and Janie said, “The boat! Hurry, we must get to the boat.”

They ran like the wind, and long-legged James got there first and had the boat untied in the wink of an eye.

The horrid man was gaining on them now, still shouting and waving his stick in the air. Janie leaped over the turtle and grabbed one oar and Billy took the other. James held Davey.

“Push, James! Push! We’re stuck,” yelled Bill frantically. James reached out to grab the pier and push the boat off, and just then there was a violent commotion in the weeds. Charging down upon them in full fury came a wicked looking goat. His head was lowered and his sharp curled horns were thrust out. James pushed desperately to loosen the boat, and the weight of the goat and the shove were all the rackety old pier could take.

It collapsed into the water with a great splash, and down went the goat in a tangle of horns and whiskers and loose boards. The children gasped and then James screamed,

“Row! Row for your life!” And the boat shot out into the lake and out of reach of the bedraggled goat and the angry man.

They made the distance home in record time, and almost cried with relief when at last they reached their own pier.

“Boy!” said Billy. “That was a close one. I’ll never go near that place again.”

_Chapter Five_

_Grandma Always Brought Presents_

Davey wanted to carry the turtle in single handed, but he was voted down and instead he was given the honor of bringing Mom down to surprise her.

“Old rubber-back” had been turned right side up again, and he sat quietly on the floor boards, all tired out from his struggle. Mom came hurrying down, escorted by the beaming Davey.

“Where’s the turtle?” she called.

“Oh, my goodness, it’s as big as a house!”

“Why it’s immense!”

“How did you ever land him?”

“What will Dad say?”

Everyone answered at once and even Mrs. Landry, their neighbor, came over to see the catch. She volunteered the use of her big wash tub as a temporary tank. A man who was visiting at Williams took the fish hook out of the turtle’s jaw, and after that he seemed quite contented in his new home. They decided to keep him until Daddy could get out to see him.

Everyone raced for the porch when Mom mentioned food. They were sprawled about in comfortable chairs finishing their lunch and laughing and talking, when all of a sudden Janie exclaimed,

“Mom, something awful happened this afternoon.”

Then she told of their adventure at the deserted house. Mom looked serious. “Oh dear, you must never go near that place again. That man is sort of an old hermit. He lives there in a chicken coop with his goat. You must be kind to him, but it would be a good idea to keep out of his way.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, we will,” said Billy, and the others agreed.

By and by the boys drifted out to the front yard to play ball. Mom sat in the lawn swing watching the sunset, and Janie read the evening paper.

Far down the road there appeared a small black car. It came closer and closer around the curve, and finally stopped at the Murray gate.

“Toot Toot!”

“Grandma!”

“Aunt Claire!”

“Daddy rode out with them!”

“We have the little cottage all ready for you!”

In the midst of all the excited greeting Mom said, “Let’s go down to the porch. Janie, you make a pot of tea for your grandmother. Boys, you help with the boxes and bags.”

There never was anything like Grandma and Aunt Claire moving out to the lake for the season. In addition to the normal load the car held a portable sewing machine, a portable phonograph, Aunt Claire’s oil paints and her water colors. There were boxes of yarn for knitting, sewing materials, and stacks of magazines containing serial stories that Grandma hadn’t quite finished reading in town. There was Aunt Claire’s fishing tackle, her camera, and Grandma’s canary bird. There were always presents for everyone, and this time was no exception.

After Grandma had finished her tea and everyone had inspected and admired “old rubber-back”, the family was assembled once more and the presents were handed out. Mom was first. She received a wide brimmed garden hat. Janie got a new swimming suit. Billy and James each got an elaborate cowboy holster with toy guns, and David found a catching mitt in his package.

Butch had a present too, but where was he? They looked all over the cottage and couldn’t find him. Davey was getting frightened.

“Oh, I hope he didn’t run out on the road,” he said. “He’ll get run over for sure.”

“Come on folks,” called Dad. “Everybody out for the big monkey hunt.”

The family spread out in the front yard calling, “Butch!” “Oh Butch!”

Davey was the first to hear the answering monkey chatter and he called the rest. There was the missing rascal, sitting on the big turtle and riding round and round in the old wash tub!

It was wonderful to have the whole family together again. In the excitement of catching the turtle and losing Butch, the purse on the cottage roof was almost forgotten, but not quite. James remembered, and his eyes grew large.

“Daddy” he cried. “Daddy! Butchie found a purse, and he hid it up on the roof of the little cottage.”

By that time the children were gathered around Dad and were all talking at once.

“Please get it down for us!”

“Mom wouldn’t let us go up there.”

“Please Daddy, can we get it now?”

“Daddy, may I go up with you?”

“Let me, Daddy, please!”

Daddy laughed and put up his arms to defend himself. “Help, help!” he cried. He finally got the story all straightened out, and he was very much interested.

“Just wait till I get some old work pants on,” he said, “and I’ll go up there and look for it while it’s still daylight.”

Billy ran to get a ladder, and the rest of the family gathered around to watch the excitement. Daddy soon came bounding up the rock garden steps in his old work pants. They were frayed and faded and there were spots of at least six different colors of paint, not counting cement, varnish and chair mending glue, but they were Dad’s favorite pants.

He called to Davey. “Send that rascal Butch up here,” he said. He climbed up to the roof of the porch. Butchie scampered up after him, but either he had forgotten where he hid the purse, or else he didn’t want Daddy to find it, because they looked and looked, and Daddy even pried up pieces of roofing, but there was no purse.

“Are you sure he put it up here?” Daddy asked. Billy and Jane said,

“Oh yes, Daddy. It’s surely there, because we saw him carry it up, and Mom was here when he came down. He had it going up, and he didn’t have it coming down. It’s surely there.”

“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said in a baffled sort of way. “Here, catch Butch,” he said, “I’m coming down.”

Butch scurried down the drain pipe, disdaining the ladder. Just as Daddy was about to start down, he hesitated and turned back for just one more look.

He walked over to where the roof of the porch joined the walls of the cottage, and he peered up under the eaves. He squinted his eyes and reached up to feel for an opening. Just then there was an angry roaring like the motors of hundreds of tiny airplanes, and Daddy came down the ladder even faster than Butch had come down the drain pipe. He ran for the front cottage like someone possessed.

“Wasps,” he whooped without slackening his speed or turning his head.

He was gone in such a hurry that they all stood gaping after him. Mr. Landry, who had been strolling down the road, stopped still in amazement. He took his pipe out of his mouth and said to Mom, “You know, Mrs. Murray, I didn’t know that a big man like your husband could run that fast.”

“He probably did break a record,” Mom said, “but he was urged on by a nest of wasps.”

They hurried down to the cottage to find Daddy safe behind the screen door. His frustrated pursuers had scattered angrily and given up the chase.

“Whew,” he gasped. “I haven’t had so much exercise since the time the Indians chased me out of town.”

“Did the Indians chase you out of town?” asked Davey. “Tell us about it.”

Daddy laughed. “I was only fooling,” he said, “but those wasps weren’t. Boy! Did I have a close shave! I tell you what we’ll do. Wait till the next time I come out, and I’ll get set for those man-eating monsters. If there’s a purse up on that roof, I’ll get it down. But--” and he wagged his finger all around the porch, “don’t any of you try to get up there while I’m gone. You all saw what almost happened to me. It’s much too dangerous.” One by one the faces, all solemn now, nodded in agreement.

The sun slipped down behind the woods on the west shore. Grandma and Aunt Claire went back to the little cottage to unpack.

“Tell us about the time you were chased by Indians, Daddy,” said the persistent David.

“No, Dad,” said Jane. “Please tell us about the deserted house.”

“Do you really want to hear about the deserted house?” asked Dad, pulling David off his shoulders. “I think maybe I could tell you a story about that.”

Janie sat at his feet, and David sat on the arm of his chair. “Well,” he began, “it happened a long time ago. Perhaps sixty or seventy years ago. You know, Oak Lake is a modest place. It always has been. But, just that once, while the Motts lived here it had an air of fashion and frivolity, like stardust sprinkled on bread and butter.

“There was a father and a mother, two pretty little girls that always wore handmade dresses that were made in Paris, and one son. Mr. Mott was a wealthy man, but he had no desire for the rush and competition of the great cities, so he brought his family here to Oak Lake to live. I’ve often thought of how amazed the people around here must have been to see that fine mansion rising in their midst. ‘Mott’s Madness’ they called it. There were stables with thoroughbred horses and a private race track, and a house full of servants.

“Even though they were far away from their friends they entertained in grand style. Twice a year they’d have a party, and their guests arrived from the east in a private car. Why, they even had their own school house. It was a comfortable two-story building a little distance away from the main house, and the governess lived in it.

“The children used to come there every day to study and to practice. One day the two little girls got off by themselves, and waded out into the lake. They didn’t know how to swim, and they drowned. The governess became frantic when she heard their cries, and in trying to save them, she drowned. It was terrible. The mother and father grieved so that they never wanted to see Oak Lake again. They packed their things, and took their son with them. They just walked out and never came back. Everything is the way they left it. It must be almost fifty years now since they went away, but there are dried roses in a vase in the old parlor. There’s an open book on a sofa, left as it was when the reader was interrupted by the cries from the lake. I’m not sure, but I think that the old man who lives there now is their son. He has had a lot of trouble. The family lost all their money. He’s involved in one law suit after the other. It’s no wonder he hates lawyers. After a long time he came back here to live, but he never lived in the big house. He lives in the chicken coop.”

Janie shivered. “Oh Daddy, how perfectly awful. Couldn’t someone do something for him, so he wouldn’t have to live in a chicken coop?” Dad smiled. “Folks have tried to help him,” he said, “but the old fellow is proud and touchy, and he wants to be left alone.”

“He sure does,” exclaimed Billy. “I’ll never forget how he chased us out of there.”

“Keep out of his way,” Daddy said. “That’s the best way to get along with him.” He picked Davey up and carried him to bed. Janie looked at Mom and drew her brows together.

“Mom,” she said. “Do you suppose that’s one of Dad’s stories, or do you suppose that’s really true?”

Mom cut off the end of her thread. “As far as I know,” she said, “that was all absolutely true.”

After a while they wandered back to see how Grandma and Aunt Claire were getting settled. Janie blinked for a moment. The mountainous load was gone and everything was in place.

“Grandma, you’re a wonder,” she exclaimed. “How did you get everything put away so fast?”

Grandma was sitting in her rocking chair, crocheting. The bowl of pansies stood on the table beside her, and her canary chirped over her head. “Petey helped me,” she said, nodding at the canary, “and Aunt Claire helped too.”

Aunt Claire was puzzled about the glass of lemonade beside her bed, and Jane explained.