Читать книгу The Clue at Skeleton Rocks - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 4

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Hal took a turn on the deck after supper alone. He stopped for a moment at the starboard rail and glanced idly over the dark, murmuring waves. In the anchor lights, he saw the black outline of a shark as it clipped the water. A damp, chill wind was blowing; winter seemed still to be stalking the sea. Dark and starless, the deep gloom of the night was but accentuated by the sweeping arc of light from Skeleton Rocks.

He shivered and, drawing his warm windbreaker about his neck, took another turn about the deck. Then he stepped inside the pilot house where his uncle and Captain Dell were smoking their pipes and talking. The little enclosure was blue with tobacco smoke.

Hal divested himself of his jacket and sat down.

“I think I saw a shark just before,” he said to the captain. “Do they sort of turn sideways?”

“Sideways an’ upside down, young man,” said the captain. “The waters here is full of ’em. As big a young man as you are, you’d only make a light cafeteria lunch fer one o’ them blue-noses. Reckon it’d take three six-footers like yourself ter fill ’em up. They git spells o’ hangin’ ’round the reef. That’s where it got its name. Lots of ’em sneaks around Skeleton Rocks too, Barrowe told one of the men.”

“Do you know Barrowe very well, Captain Dell?” Denis Keen asked, more interested in the lightkeeper than in sharks.

“Nobuddy knows Barrowe, Mr. Keen, sir. They ain’t one uv us has heerd him say more’n three words at a time. Ole Bill Hollins used ter say he didn’ talk any more’n that ter him even. Like I say, he’s a queer duck.”

Hal stirred, searched in his back pocket for cigarettes, and getting one out lighted it leisurely.

“Did you ever have any experiences with sharks, Captain Dell?” he asked.

“A few, young man. Reckon thar ain’t a seaman what ain’t met up with ’em now an’ agin. I been lucky though—I’ve pulled in a few what give me a fight an’ never got a scratch. ’Twasn’t so with some o’ the pore devils I’ve seen lose a battle with ’em. Funny thing ’bout sharks though, they come back agin an’ agin ter the spot whar they got their man—yessir, I’ve seed it time an’ agin! Folks say that’s plain superstition, but I say no—I’ve seed it.”

“Something like what they say about a murderer returning to the scene of his crime, eh?” Denis Keen asked, interested.

“Gosh,” Hal said, incredulous, “but how could you tell it’s the same shark? They all seem to look alike to me. Not that I’ve seen so many, just one that I can remember.” He laughed. “The pictures of them all look alike anyway.”

“Wa’al, they don’t look alike, young man, not by a jugful! They’re as different as human bein’s. Now take you an’ yer uncle here. Yer both six footers an’ yer both look a pow’ful lot alike till it comes ter yore hair. Mr. Keen’s is sandy an’ straight, an’ yore’s . . .”

“Pray, say no more, kind sir,” Hal said mockingly. “I know what everybody says about my hair and it’s too much—too much hair and too much comment about it. So defer your opinion, Captain Dell, to some time when I’m not around. Just now I’d rather hear about how you identify sharks from the human kind. Do some have straight hair like Unk’s and others have wool like mine?”

“Hal, for heaven’s sake, let Captain Dell have a chance to explain!” Denis Keen exclaimed, trying hard to frown.

Captain Dell, being a genial soul, enjoyed the situation immensely. It was a pleasant innovation having guests aboard the plodding old Cactus, particularly the distinguished Denis Keen, whose membership was valued highly by the Secret Service Department in Washington. And because the captain felt himself a member of the government family also, there had sprung up between the two a delightful comradery.

“Wa’al now,” said he at length, “thar ain’t no wonder ’bout tellin’ sharks apart. Fer one thing, thar’s different kinds, big fellers an’ little ones, but none of ’em looks like its brother, I don’t care even ef it’s the same size. Thar’s allus a spot or somethin’ ter make ’em different.”

“In other words, Captain, they’re all sisters under the skin and that’s about all, eh?” Denis Keen asked with a chuckle.

“I reckon that is about all, sir,” the captain answered.

Hal blew out a cloud of smoke and watched it circle above his head before he spoke.

“Gosh,” he said seriously. “I only hope I’m able to recognize the shark that battles me if I happen to meet him a second time.”

Curiously enough, Hal did that very thing.