Читать книгу The Bobbsey Twins at Lighthouse Point - Lilian Garis - Страница 5

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Freddie lay flat on his stomach among the oranges while strange, grunting noises came from him. When he did not get up at once Mrs. Bobbsey grew alarmed and rose from her chair. Nan ran to her little brother and dropped to her knees beside him.

“Freddie, what’s the matter?” she cried. “Did you hurt yourself?”

With Nan’s help the little boy struggled to a kneeling position.

“I’m all right,” he gasped weakly. “But things squashed!”

Sure enough, on the floor lay the remains of three split oranges. Freddie’s suit dripped with juice.

Dinah, the Bobbseys’ colored cook, appeared in the doorway. First she looked angry, then she laughed so hard she shook all over. “Yo’ bring back dose oranges ef’n yo’ ’spects to git any pudding for yo’ supper,” she said. “My, what a sight yo’ is.”

Freddie picked himself up and began to gather the oranges together. Nan and Flossie would have been glad to have helped him, but Mrs. Bobbsey said that he must do it alone since he was the one who had taken the oranges in the first place. In a few minutes he took them to Dinah, who scolded him soundly.

“Nebber did I see sech chillun,” she muttered, slapping her pans about with a great rattle and bang. “Cain’t hab no peace in dis house, noways.”

However, Dinah gave Freddie an extra serving of orange pudding that evening at dinner, so the little boy knew that he was forgiven. That was the way the cook always did.

The next few days were spent by the Bobbseys in busy preparation for the trip. They were to go two days earlier than they had planned. This meant that they must all work at top speed if they were to be ready in time. Bert and Freddie made frequent trips downtown to buy different kinds of things.

“They’re really necessary for a good summer at the seashore,” the older boy insisted to his mother.

There were bathing suits to get and a very special kind of beach ball about which Freddie had heard from one of his chums. The little fellow would have liked a real fishing rod too, but Daddy Bobbsey said he was too young for one yet and would have to wait awhile. Freddie decided on a stick, a length of string and a bent pin. He would hope for the best. The day before the Bobbseys were to start he announced to Bert that he was going to make one last trip downtown.

“What for?” asked his brother.

“I want to buy some worms,” Freddie answered soberly. “I thought I’d get a couple of cans of them.”

Bert put back his head and roared with laughter.

“You can’t buy worms in cans, Freddie,” he said, when he had sobered down a little. “You dig for them in your garden.”

“Yes, I know. But I thought it would save a lot of trouble,” Freddie explained, “if they came already digged—I mean dugged—I mean—”

“Dug,” said Bert.

His little brother finally was persuaded to wait until the Bobbseys should reach Lighthouse Point before putting in a supply of worms for bait. He agreed to collect a few empty cans instead.

Nan and Flossie were kept very busy helping Mother Bobbsey get their clothes ready and packed for the long summer vacation. Bert and Freddie could not understand the interest girls took in clothes. They laughed at their sisters and paraded back and forth before the mirror, pretending to be trying on a new dress and hat.

“You can laugh if you want to,” said Flossie, primly smoothing the skirt of her new flowered dress. “It doesn’t make a bit of difference to us. Mother says all boys are barbeerans, anyway.”

“Barbarians, darling,” laughed Nan, as she tried the effect of a new straw hat.

“What are they?” asked Freddie.

“People who live all by themselves far away,” said Bert. “They don’t go to school or do anything like we do.”

“What’s that got to do with dresses?” asked Freddie.

“Oh,” laughed Nan, “barbarians don’t have many clothes or care to bother with them.”

“Let’s go and talk to Mr. John Todd about taking care of Snap and Waggo,” said Flossie, who was tired of packing. “I want to see all those nice animals at the place where he lives.”

“Good idea,” agreed Bert.

As it happened, Dinah had just finished pressing an organdie dress as Flossie ran into the kitchen.

“Yo’ watch out yo’ don’t git dat dress mussed up,” Dinah warned, as Flossie snatched it and started pellmell for the stairs. “I warns yo’ I ain’t goin’ press it more dan once.”

“I’ll be careful,” promised Flossie, holding it high.

At last all the packing was done except the few last-minute things that would have to be left until the following morning. The twins started at once with their two dogs. Waggo had to be kept on a leash, for he was young and wild and liked to bark at the wheels of passing automobiles. Snap, being old, walked beside them quietly. He looked neither to right nor to left, but kept his eyes steadily in front as a dignified, elderly dog should do.

When the children reached the address Mr. Todd had given them, they found the man at home. He seemed to be very glad to see them. He introduced them to his friend, the veterinary, in his clean white office at the rear of the house. The twins liked the pleasant, gray-haired man at once, and they all decided that both Snap and Waggo would be safe and happy with him while they were away at Lighthouse Point.

“I suppose you would like to see where your pets will live,” said the veterinary, whose name, by the way, was Jonas Twigg. “I am sure they will be very happy and comfortable here while you are away.”

Dr. Twigg took Flossie and Freddie by the hand and led all the children toward the kennels. The rooms, which of course were nothing but big cages, were large and clean. The guests, all kinds of dogs, seemed contented. They came to the bars in response to the cluckings and coaxings of Freddie and Flossie. Outside the kennels were runs where the animals, according to Dr. Twigg, spent most of the day.

“If a dog is bad or inclined to make trouble we put him in a run by himself,” the veterinary explained. “Most of our animals are friendly, though, and get along famously together. In fact, we’re just one big happy family here.”

The twins were sorry when the time came to say good-bye to Snap and Waggo. Freddie’s lower lip quivered as he parted with his pets. He had to run away without looking back, or he certainly would have disgraced himself by bursting into tears.

He felt better after the children had said good-bye to Dr. Twigg and gone outside the house. Just then Pal came running up to greet them and to fawn over them with doggy affection. Freddie had to struggle with himself all over again!

On the way home the Bobbseys met Danny Rugg. The twins would have gone on without speaking but Danny planted himself straight in their path. He stood with his feet apart, his hands thrust inside his pockets and his elbows out.

“I say, I have bad news for you,” said the unpleasant boy, grinning as though this fact made him very happy. “Your car has been stolen.”

Bert, who had been about to push Danny to one side, stopped to stare at the boy.

“How do you know?” he demanded. Then he added quickly, “I suppose this is one more of your jokes!”

“All right, see for yourselves,” jeered Danny as the children pushed past him and ran toward their home. “I tell you your car’s been stolen. Your father told me about it himself.”

Breathlessly Nan and Flossie burst into the kitchen of the Bobbsey house a few moments later. Freddie and Bert had gone straight to the garage.

“That bad Danny Rugg says our car has been stolen!” cried Flossie.

“It isn’t so, is it, Mother?” Nan Bobbsey asked anxiously.

Dinah had been rolling out biscuit dough when the girls had rushed into the kitchen. Now she held the rolling pin aloft, bits of dough still clinging to it. Her face was a picture of dismay. Mrs. Bobbsey stood beside her, also looking very grave.

“I’m afraid this time Danny is right,” she answered. “Our car has been stolen.”

“Who could have done it?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” said Daddy Bobbsey, coming into the kitchen. At his heels were Bert and Freddie, while a rather scared Sam brought up the rear. “It must have been taken from the garage, right under your nose, Sam,” he added to the colored man.

“Don’t be too hard on Sam, please, Richard,” said Mrs. Bobbsey quickly. “He has been in town all day on errands for me. In fact, I’m afraid the whole thing is my fault,” she added. “I must have left my key in the car when I put it away this morning. I don’t know how I could have been so careless,” she finished anxiously.

“You have had too much to do,” said Nan, rushing loyally to her mother’s defense. “There has been so much excitement the past few days it’s no wonder you forgot and left the key in the car.”

Mrs. Bobbsey smiled at her daughter but her face did not lose its anxious look.

“I’m so sorry, my dears,” she said. “This means that we shall have to put off our trip, I suppose.”

“I shouldn’t give up hope yet,” said Mr. Bobbsey promptly. “Not till we see what the police can do at any rate. I’ll report the loss at once.”

He paused on his way to the door to look back at the little group.

“Does any one of you children remember seeing anything suspicious today?” he asked. “A tramp hanging about the grounds, for instance?”

“I saw something ’spicious this morning while we were shopping,” said Flossie promptly.

“What was it?” asked her father as he looked steadily at his little daughter. “Try to remember very carefully, fat fairy. It may be important.” Mr. Bobbsey often called the small girl his fat fairy.

“It was while Mother was inside the ’partment store shopping,” said Flossie. “She told Nan and me to go out and get in the car to wait, ’cause she was coming right out—”

“Yes, but what did you see?” cried Bert impatiently. “Tell Daddy.”

“It was a man, standing right by our car,” said Flossie. “He had his foot on the running board—”

“And he had the door open and was looking inside,” Nan finished excitedly. “I remember now!”

“When he saw us he looked kind of funny and ran away,” finished Flossie importantly. “Didn’t he, Nan?”

“The man did look guilty, Daddy,” Nan said earnestly. “I remember I meant to tell Mother but we started talking about Lighthouse Point and I forgot.”

“What did the man look like? How was he dressed?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.

“Oh, I ’member,” said Flossie eagerly. “He was sort of tall and brown. He had on a sailor suit.”

“A sailor! Well, that’s one clue to go on, anyway!” said Mr. Bobbsey with satisfaction. “I’ll call the police at once and see what they can do for us.”

The children gathered around anxiously while Mr. Bobbsey notified the local station of his loss. He gave the license number of the car, the time of discovery of the theft, and as clear a description as he could of the man dressed in sailor’s garb whom his daughters had seen.

“There isn’t a thing to do but wait,” he said, as he put down the phone.

“And hope for the best,” added Mrs. Bobbsey.

It is not easy to wait when one is as anxious as the Bobbsey family was just then. An hour passed, then another. Just as they had decided that nothing was going to happen, the telephone rang. They all made a dash for it, but Daddy Bobbsey got there first.

“They’ve found it!” he cried a moment later as he put up the phone. “They have both the man and the car. They want me to come to Journeyville to see them. Care to come with me, Bert?”

Journeyville was only half an hour’s trip by train from Lakeport. When Bert and Mr. Bobbsey reached the town they went at once to the local police station where they had no trouble in proving the car belonged to them.

The man was a different matter, however, as they had only the description of Nan and Flossie to go on.

“This fellow isn’t even a sailor,” the police chief told them. “We thought probably he is a fake and when we charged him with it, he confessed that the suit he has on isn’t his own.”

“Had he stolen that, too?” asked Bert.

“Right you are. From the back of an injured seaman he took it, according to his story. Here’s a funny thing now,” added the chief, settling himself for a bit of gossip. “This injured sailor I speak of was a member of the Larrison crew, the freighter that was burned off Lighthouse Point.”

“Say, Dad, what do you think of that?” cried Bert.

“Do you happen to know the name of this sailor from the Larrison, Officer?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.

“No, that I don’t, sir, and neither does this thief that robbed him of his clothes, if he’s to be believed. What’s to be done about this Benny Blum, the fellow that stole your car? Do you want to prefer a charge against him?”

“I hardly think so,” said Mr. Bobbsey. He got up slowly and held out his hand to the chief. “I have my car back and I can afford to be generous. Give this Blum a good talking-to and let him go. And thanks very much for the trouble you’ve taken for me.”

On the way back to Lakeport Mr. Bobbsey stopped at a garage and had his car thoroughly gone over.

“In perfect shape, sir,” said the garage mechanic a short time later. “Not a bolt out of place. Want me to fill her up with gas?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Bobbsey, “for we’ve a long trip tomorrow.”

There was great rejoicing in the Bobbsey house that night. You may be sure the greatest pains were taken to keep the car safe, too. The door of the garage was locked and double-locked and even then it took the efforts of the whole family to persuade Freddie not to sit up all night and keep guard over it with his toy shotgun!

Early the next morning Daddy Bobbsey went with Dinah and Sam to the station from which they were to take a train to Lighthouse Point. Freddie and Flossie waved good-bye to the faithful servants as they drove off. Freddie shouted:

“Don’t forget you promised to make us some sea-biscuits, Dinah, when we get to the seashore.”

“With currant jelly on them,” added his twin.

Dinah chuckled as she settled down beside Sam in the roomy seat.

“Dose chilluns sho’ does love to eat. Nebber see anything lak’ de way dey can put away cookies an’ biscuits, no sir!”

“That’s because you’re such a good cook,” said Mr. Bobbsey, smiling at the delighted colored woman. “I can’t blame the children, when I’m just as bad myself. Hold on there, Sam, you’re going around this corner pretty fast!”

“Yes sir, Mist’ Bobbsey,” grinned Sam. “I’se a-holdin’ on. Yes, sir.”

Meanwhile the children put on hats and coats while Bert locked windows and brought the last of the bags downstairs.

“Put all the luggage on the porch, dear, so that we shall be ready to go as soon as Daddy gets back,” Mrs. Bobbsey directed. “Nan, will you see that the garage doors are locked and bring the key to me?”

“I’ll go and help,” offered Freddie.

“So will I,” Flossie added.

Thus it happened that Nan and the little twins were together when Danny Rugg pushed through a gap in the hedge and faced them in the driveway.

“Hey, we’re all ready to go. Are you?” the lad demanded.

“Not quite,” said Nan. She locked the door of the garage, slipped the key in her pocket, and turned to go.

Danny Rugg had picked up a sharp stone and was tossing it from hand to hand while he blocked her path.

“Bet we could beat you to Lighthouse Point,” he called out. “Want to race?”

“No, we don’t,” said Nan shortly.

She dodged past Danny and began to run up the driveway. Suddenly something sharp struck her ankle with stinging force. With a cry of pain the girl fell to the ground.