Читать книгу The Bobbsey Twins at Lighthouse Point - Lilian Garis - Страница 6

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“Don’t you dare hit my sister!” shrieked Freddie, shaking his fist after the departing back of Danny Rugg.

“Ya-a-a,” yelled the bully. “Who’s going to stop me? Ya-a-a!”

Half crying, Flossie ran to the aid of her sister.

“He’s a bad, bad boy,” she said. “I saw him throw that stone. Did he hurt you, Nan?”

“I—don’t know,” said the older Bobbsey girl.

With Flossie’s help she struggled to her feet but winced with pain when she tried to put her weight on the injured ankle. Hearing the noise, Mrs. Bobbsey and Bert ran outside. Daddy Bobbsey, returning from the station, jumped from the car.

“Danny Rugg threw a stone at her,” Freddie explained as Nan’s anxious family stood around her. “Golly, I bet he broke her ankle.”

“I guess not,” said Mr. Bobbsey. Lifting Nan very gently he put her in the front seat of the car. “It takes a pretty hard knock to break an ankle. Nevertheless to be on the safe side we better have Dr. Saunders take a look at it.”

“Oh, I hope I haven’t ruined our vacation,” sighed his daughter.

Quickly the last of the luggage was stowed in the trunk compartment, the doors and windows of the house locked, and a note set out in a milk bottle for the milkman. Flossie insisted upon climbing into the seat beside “big sister,” where she held Nan’s hand and stared at her in sympathy all the way to the doctor’s office. Mrs. Bobbsey went inside with Nan while the others waited anxiously in the outer office.

“If Nan’s ankle is hurted bad we can’t go to Lighthouse Point, can we, Daddy?” asked Freddie.

“No, of course not,” said Mr. Bobbsey, walking restlessly about the office. “Something must be done about a boy like Danny Rugg, though I must say I don’t know just what.”

“I do!” said Bert, clenching his fists and scowling in a way that would make trouble for Danny Rugg when he and Bert should meet.

Meanwhile the doctor examined Nan’s ankle, feeling of the sore spots with gentle, practiced fingers.

“It looks far worse than it is,” he said at last as he reached for his bag. “I’ll strap up your ankle for the present and give you a prescription for a rubbing lotion.”

“Then nothing was broken, doctor?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey anxiously.

“Nothing whatever,” said the physician with a reassuring smile. “The ankle will be sore and stiff for a few days, however, and I’d advise keeping off of it as much as possible. Let Nature do her work. She is a better physician than all of us doctors put together!”

When Freddie heard the good news a few minutes later he let out a whoop of joy which was certainly very much out of place in a doctor’s waiting room. However, all the Bobbseys were too happy to speak to him about it. Daddy only said, “Hurry, Freddie, we must make up for lost time!”

As the car whizzed along the road the children felt that this was the real start of their trip. In the joy of being actually on their way to Lighthouse Point on the ocean they were ready to forgive even Danny Rugg, all except Bert, perhaps, who had vowed to get even with the bully.

Flossie still sat in the front seat, her little hand tucked into Nan’s. When they stopped for a picnic lunch in a woods along the roadside the little girl busily directed the placing of cushions under her sister’s injured ankle.

“There, that’s comfortabler,” she said, giving the pillow a pat with her chubby palm. “Now just you stay there and I’ll bring you loads and loads of sandwiches and cake.”

Flossie was being so sweet and enjoying herself so much as a nurse that Nan did not have the heart to tell her little sister that the ankle had almost stopped hurting and that she could very well wait on herself. She took everything Flossie brought her, saying “Thank you, darling. Yes, that is ever so much nicer.” The small girl grew rosier and rosier, and marched about importantly among the picnic baskets.

The family did not linger long over lunch, for Mother and Daddy Bobbsey were eager to reach a certain tourist home before nightfall. It was a good many miles away.

“Golly, aren’t we going to get to Lighthouse Point tonight?” asked Freddie, a little disappointed.

“We could if we were to travel very fast and were willing to reach there long after dark,” Mrs. Bobbsey explained. “But Daddy thinks it would be better to stop at a tourist house over night and finish our journey in the morning.”

“I like to stay at tourist homes. It’s fun,” said Flossie.

“Sure it is. Besides, what’s the use of getting to Lighthouse Point at night?” added Bert. “You couldn’t see anything.”

Mr. Bobbsey made very good time that afternoon, so as a result the family reached their destination well before dark. When the children saw the tourist home they were more than glad that they had decided to stay there. It was a nice, roomy old house, painted white, and standing well back from the road. Under the trees on the lawn were swings and a croquet set. A friendly dog came to greet them.

When the children got out of the car they felt a little stiff. As they stamped about, easing cramped muscles—all except poor Nan, whose ankle was beginning to pain her again—they thought they recognized a gray automobile near the house.

“Doesn’t that car belong to Danny Rugg’s family?” asked Bert excitedly.

There was no sign of the Ruggs, either on the porch or inside the house. By the time the Bobbseys had been shown to their rooms on the second floor, they were beginning to hope they had been mistaken. Maybe the car outside was not Danny Rugg’s after all, but belonged to somebody else.

“There are a lot of gray cars on the road and all of them can’t belong to them,” Nan told her brother.

“Yes, but that was like theirs and the license number looked pretty familiar,” said Bert. “I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to see Danny pop up any minute now. If he does—” Bert left the sentence unfinished but Nan thought she could guess what he meant.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Bert, please,” she begged in a whisper. “Mother and Daddy wouldn’t like it—I mean, if you were to fight Danny Rugg.”

“If that fellow’s here I’ll get even with him, and Mother and Dad won’t know a thing about it,” said Bert darkly. “He can’t hurt my sister and get away with it.”

Nan was left to wonder uneasily what her brother could mean by his remarks.

The Bobbsey family had three rooms on the second-floor. Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey had a big one in the front part of the house. Since the tourist home was crowded, the children were given smaller rooms at the back.

As Bert was coming out of the one he shared with Freddie, a door across the hall opened. Out popped Danny Rugg!

“Hi! You here again?” grinned the unpleasant boy. “Sort of following us up, aren’t you?” he added with a sly grin.

“You know what I ought to do to you for hurting my sister, don’t you?” cried Bert. He took a step forward, while Danny took one backward and slammed the door in Bert’s face. The Bobbsey lad heard a key turn in the lock. “Ya-a! You think you’re smart, don’t you?” jeered Danny. “But I’m not afraid of you. You needn’t think I am!”

“No, not much!” said Bert disgustedly. “Not when you have a locked door to hide behind!”

“You better come out and get what’s coming to you,” shouted Freddie, feeling very brave now that he was beside his big brother.

Nan and Flossie, attracted by the rumpus, had stepped from their room. As other doors opened along the hall they begged their two brothers to come away.

“We can get even with Danny some other time,” Nan urged in a low voice. “You know Mother wouldn’t like any fuss here.”

“All right. But I’ve thought of a way to get even—and without making any noise,” said Bert. He added mysteriously, “I’ll tell you about it after dinner.”

“Can’t you tell me now?” asked his twin eagerly.

Bert shook his head and made a gesture of caution.

“Here come Mother and Dad. Meet me after dinner on the porch and I’ll tell you my secret.”

As soon as she could leave the table after the meal, Nan slipped away to the porch to wait. In a few moments she was joined by Bert. For some time the two young heads might have been seen very close together while brother and sister made their plans.

It was some time before those same plans could be carried out. Nan and Bert had to wait until everyone had gone to bed. When at last all was quiet within the tourist house and in the grounds outside, Nan slipped from her bed. Hobbling a little painfully because of her sore ankle, she made her way across the hall to the room where Bert and Freddie were supposed to be asleep. She tapped lightly on the door. It opened at once. A hand reached out and drew her within.

“Did you get the extra sheets?” the girl whispered.

“Yes, here they are,” said Bert. “We’ll have to be pretty quiet so as not to wake Freddie. I thought he’d never go to sleep.”

He slipped one of the sheets over Nan’s head and fastened it about her waist with the cord from his bathrobe.

“Bert, I can’t see a thing,” came Nan’s muffled whisper from the folds of the sheet. “Suppose I should stumble and hurt my bad ankle again.”

“I’ll lead you,” her twin promised, covering himself with a sheet also. “I’ve made peep-holes in mine so I can see easily. Now all’s ready. Come,” he added, speaking as if he were in a play, “let us meet the enemy!”

Doing her best to stifle her giggles, Nan gave her hand to Bert. He led her from his room through a door which opened onto a porch. This second-floor balcony ran along the back of the house. It was responsible for giving Bert the idea of how he could get square with Danny. The narrow porch ran past the bully’s room also, and had a door opening from it into the place where he now lay asleep.

Nan and Bert, draped in their ghostly costumes, felt their way cautiously along this balcony until they came to the right door. The moon was shining brightly and some of its light lit up Danny’s bed. It rested on the face of the unpleasant boy, who was sound asleep, his heavy features relaxed and his mouth slightly open.

Bert squeezed Nan’s hand and pulled her around until she faced the door. Then he opened it very quietly and thrust his sister into the room.

“Now do your stuff!” he whispered.

Beneath the sheet Nan raised and lowered her arms with a slow, rhythmic motion while she cried in a ghostly, muffled voice:

“Whoo—oo—oo! Whoo—oo—oo! I am the ghost of your great great grandmother, Danny Rugg! Whoo—oo! Oh, whoo—oo—oo—”

Danny sat bolt upright in bed. Bert said afterward that the bully’s hair stood straight up on end as he stared at the awful apparition. Certain it is that his eyes nearly popped from his head in fright. As Bert rushed toward him, waving his arms and hoo-ing, too, the terrified boy gave a howl and jumped out of bed.

Triumphantly Bert swooped upon the bed covers and threw them all onto the porch. Then, seizing Nan by the hand, he ran with her back along the balcony into his own room.

“Quick!” he cried, pulling the sheet from her head and thrusting her toward the door. “Get back to your room before that booby rouses the whole house. Hurry!”

Putting a hand across her mouth to keep from laughing, because the joke had been so successful, Nan hobbled across the hall. She reached her own room just as another door opened. Mrs. Rugg in bathrobe and slippers hurried to her son’s room.

When he was sure Nan was safe, Bert closed his own door and leaned against it, weak with laughter. After a moment he heard voices in the next room. He tiptoed across the porch to listen.

“Well, of all things! What’s the matter with you, Daniel?” he heard in Mrs. Rugg’s voice. “What are you blubbering about, I’d like to know, a big boy like you?”

“I saw g-ghosts, I tell you. There were t-two of them,” insisted Danny. “They came right in there at the door and they t-took the covers off my bed!”

“Oh, nonsense! There aren’t any such things as ghosts and you’re a silly boy to believe so!” said his mother. She was evidently very much annoyed at being called out of her bed for such a foolish reason, and was in no mood to listen to Danny’s ghost story. “Now bring those covers in from the porch and I’ll make your bed for you.”

Bert drew back as Danny slowly came onto the balcony and grumblingly gathered up the sheets and blanket. He heard him say as the bully re-entered the room:

“Well, if it wasn’t ghosts, who was it that threw my bedclothes on the porch, I’d like to know? Just tell me that.”

“You probably had a bad dream and did it yourself,” retorted Mrs. Rugg crossly. “There, now, your bed’s made, Daniel. And mind, I don’t want to hear another sound out of you tonight!”

Bert waited to hear no more. Still laughing, he went to his room and climbed back into bed. He was content, for he felt that he and Nan had had their revenge on Danny Rugg!

The next morning the Bobbseys started out early for Lighthouse Point. The Rugg family had left before them. Nan and Bert were rather glad of this, as they had no desire to see the unpleasant boy again.

Now that they were so close to the vacation spot the children could hardly wait to reach their destination. Urging their Daddy to reckless bursts of speed, he laughed and asked them if they would like to spend their first day at Lighthouse Point in the police station for breaking traffic laws!

Soon the twins became aware that the air was freshening. Now they could smell the lovely salt tang of the sea. Presently they caught sight of the water; then in a few minutes they reached a little village on the shore.

“Here we are,” said Daddy Bobbsey as he swept down a side street and brought the car to a standstill before a pretty cottage. “This is your home, family, for the next few weeks,” he added with a wave of his hand.

“There stand Dinah and Sam at the door,” cried Flossie.

“Golly, that does make it seem like home,” Freddie added. “I hope lunch is ready. I’m hungry.”

As the children trooped into the house, they promptly called it “Clambake Cottage” as sounding very salty and sea-like. The table in the dining room was set for lunch. The children wanted to hurry through the meal, for their one thought was to finish eating as soon as possible and go down to the shore.

“I want to see the lighthouse,” said Flossie. “May we go there right away, Mother?”

“And the burned boat,” said Bert. “I wonder if the Larrison is still here.”

“If Mr. Louis Bobbsey is better, I’d like to meet him,” added Nan.

“I want to ask him about the fire boats,” said Freddie. “Maybe some day I might want to work on one of them and put out fires on ocean liners!”