The Golden Eagle Mystery (7 page)

“Well, come on,” repeated Billy. “We’d better get our boat out of the cove before the tide starts running out.”

They scrambled down to the secret cove, Champ at their heels, and found the boat floating safely at the end of its mooring line, though there was no sign of Alberto. Tumbling in, they pushed off. There was still plenty of water under them, but when they came to the channel between the two islands they found the tide moving gently toward the sea, and let the boat drift with it until they were clear of the shore. Then, hoisting only the jib, Billy worked the boat slowly around to the western side of Sixpenny Island, where they found the remains of a rickety pier, and there they landed.

Sixpenny Island was quite different in appearance from Haypenny Island. There were no large rocks upon it, although it was fringed with many sunken rocks, alongside of which the lobster pots were lowered. The roofless cabin was sheltered from the sea winds only by a ridge of gravelly soil. A few feet from its sagging door was a clump of tall dark-green lilac bushes, growing around some flat stones. Beside the stones stood an old bucket, to whose handle was attached a frayed rope. Going up to investigate, they found that the stones lay beside the mouth of an old well, lined with moss-covered stones. They tossed a pebble in and heard it splash.

They went on to the little cabin, whose unpainted walls were blackened with age. At one end, a brick chimney was still standing, though its bricks were beginning to crumble. The glass in the windows of the house had long since been broken, and the windows were boarded with planks nailed across them. The front door, before which was a large flat stone that served as doorstep, had swung inward on its one remaining hinge, and had wedged itself against the planks of the floor. Champ trotted in first, and the boys squeezed themselves through the doorway after him.

Looking up through the rafters, they could see the blue sky overhead. The oaken planks of the floor had rotted away in several places, from the rains and snows that had fallen on them year after year. There was a brick fireplace at one end of the room, where the chimney stood, and beside it stood a large iron kettle. On the floor, on each side of the fireplace, were great heaps of clamshells, whitened with age.

“For Pete’s sake!” exclaimed Djuna. “Clamshells, right on the floor!”

“Oh, people used to come out here and camp, before the roof blew off,” said Billy. “They would just eat clams by the bushel, and never bother to throw the shells outside.”

“Didn’t anyone ever live here?” asked Djuna. “There must have been
somebody
living here, once upon a time.”

“Oh, sure,” said Billy. “This was where Captain Tubbs lived before he married Aunt Patty. But he died an awful long time ago. My gosh, fifty years ago, I guess! Why, my father was just a little boy when Captain Tubbs died! He doesn’t even remember what he looked like, exactly.”

“Well, didn’t anybody live here, after Captain Tubbs died?” persisted Djuna.

“I don’t think so,” said Billy. “I suppose Aunt Patty used to come out here, once in a while. But now she just comes out to ’tend to her lobster line. I don’t think she ever comes on shore here any more.”

“She didn’t, when I was with her,” said Djuna. “I wanted to see what it was like, but I didn’t like to ask her. We just got the lobsters and went home.”

“Well, we can come out here in
my
boat any time we want,” said Billy. “She won’t care.”

Champ had been sniffing around the corners of the room while they talked, as he always did in a strange place, but found nothing to interest him except an old rubber boot, which he pretended to gnaw at savagely. Litter of all sorts was scattered about the floor—a ragged old mattress, stuffed with straw; a broken oar; a rusty bucket; a tattered almanac.

“Well, come on, let’s get out of here,” said Billy. “No use looking at this old junk. We’d better be starting back. I’m getting awful hungry, and it’s going to take us a couple of hours to get back, anyway.”

“Me too,” said Djuna. “Gee, I wish we’d brought something to eat with us!”

The homeward voyage was made in much less time than it had taken to sail out to the islands, because the breeze, which still came from the south, was now behind them and drove them along at a great rate. They no longer had to zigzag back and forth, tack after tack, as they had been obliged to do when “beating to windward,” but flew steadily along, toward distant Stony Harbor. Djuna was surprised to find that the waves didn’t seem so high now, and that their boat was gliding more quietly than before, even though it was moving faster. At first he thought this was because the wind had died down, but Billy insisted that it was just as strong as ever.

“It just
seems
quieter, because we’re going with it, instead of against it,” he explained. “See that boat over there, going the other way; see how the waves slap up against it? But it’s really more dangerous to sail with the wind right behind you, if it’s very strong, because if a big enough wave catches up with you from behind it might upset the boat. But this is just a
light
breeze. This isn’t anything!”

They entered the harbor and glided past the village docks, one after another, until they came to the pier at Billy’s house, where they tied the boat up, among the other little boats lying there. Before they left, Billy showed Djuna how to roll the sails up neatly and to stow them away in the little locker up in the bow. Champ had already jumped out on the landing float, and was waiting impatiently to be helped up the ladder to the top of the pier. They lifted him up, and then Djuna looked back at the little boat.

“Gee, that was swell!” he exclaimed. “Thanks a lot! Say, look, can you come over to my house this after? I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“Sure,” said Billy. “I’ll be over soon as I get something to eat.”

When Djuna got home, he found Aunt Patty had already put the lobster salad on the table, and between mouthfuls he told her excitedly about the big eagle and the fish hawk they had seen from Haypenny Island.

“My goodness!” exclaimed Aunt Patty. “I don’t believe anybody’s seen an eagle around here for I don’t know
how
many years! But there used to be—”

She stopped suddenly, without finishing what she started to say, and Djuna was surprised to see her lips trembling. Tears began to trickle down her cheek. She reached hastily for a corner of her apron and wiped them away.

“Why, what’s the matter, Aunt Patty?” stammered Djuna, quickly putting down his fork.

Aunt Patty sniffed and smiled. “Nothing, dear,” she sighed. “Go ahead and eat your lunch. I was just thinking of something that happened a long time ago.”

Her lips trembled again, and she got up and hurried out into the kitchen. Djuna felt very uncomfortable. He wondered if he had said anything that hurt her feelings. But he was sure he hadn’t. He hadn’t talked about anything except the eagle and the osprey, the fish hawk. Suddenly he remembered what Miss Annie Ellery had told him before she sent him from Edenboro to spend the summer with Aunt Patty:

“I’m dreadfully afraid Aunt Patty’s in some sort of trouble. But don’t bother her with questions. Just find out for yourself.”

Yes, he thought, she certainly must be in
some
sort of trouble! What could it be?

Whatever it was, Aunt Patty managed to make herself seem as cheerful as usual when she came back into the room. She began talking about the visitors she had had that morning, while Djuna was away.

“I declare, I never had such a morning!” she exclaimed. “One person after another was here, a regular stream of ’em! You hadn’t been gone ten minutes before Mr. Truelove knocked at the door. After he left, there was a junk dealer came along, said he wanted to buy old paper. An hour later, Cap’n Atterbury stopped in. Just before you got home, Emmy was here. She wanted some stamps. And the funny thing about it was that every last one of them wanted to go up to the attic! I had to go up and down those stairs till I was completely tuckered out!”

“Who is Emmy, Aunt Patty?” asked Djuna.

“Why, haven’t you met little Emmy Lowry yet?” asked Aunt Patty in surprise. “She’s a very nice little girl—Billy Reckless’ cousin. I should have thought Billy would have taken you to see her. They live right next door to Billy’s house.”

Djuna shook his head. “He didn’t say anything about her,” he said. “What did she want stamps for?”

“For her stamp collection,” Aunt Patty explained. “She thought maybe I would have some old letters with stamps on them that might be worth something, so we went up to the attic to look. But I couldn’t find any. I wish you had been home. I didn’t know where you put those letters we brought down from the attic last night, so I couldn’t help her any.”

“Oh, I put those letters in the top of my bureau drawer,” said Djuna. “I was going to read them, but I forgot. But there weren’t any stamps on them. There weren’t any envelopes, even. But, gee, that’s funny, that they
all
wanted to go up to the attic! What for?”

“Well, Phinny Truelove thought maybe I might have an old chair up there that I’d be willing to sell him. Said he needs a chair, and didn’t want to spend money for a new one. So we looked around for one, up there, but the only one we could find had a broken leg. He took it along with him, anyway. Said he guessed he could mend it.”

“Did he pay you anything for it?” asked Djuna.

“He gave me ten cents for it,” said Aunt Patty. “He watches his pennies mighty close, Phinny does. Well, I was glad to get rid of it. ’Twasn’t worth any more.”

“What did the junk man want?” asked Djuna. “What kind of old paper?”

“Oh, anything,” said Aunt Patty. “I didn’t think there was anything he’d want, but he was so nice-spoken about wanting to see for himself that I let him look. All he found was a bundle of old newspapers. But he dragged them down, and carried them out to his wagon to weigh them. Gave me a nickel for them.”

“What does he do with them?” Djuna asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Aunt Patty. “I never saw the man before. Come to think of it, there hasn’t been a junk wagon around here for I don’t know how long. Well, and then old Cap’n Atterbury came along and took up some
more
of my time.”

Djuna giggled at Aunt Patty’s expression. “What did
he
want?” he asked.

“If I hadn’t been so tired, going up and down those stairs, I’d have been glad to see him,” said Aunt Patty. “But, no! What do you suppose he wanted? He said he was planning to write a piece about the old whale-ship days in Stony Harbor, and did I have any of the log books my great-grandfather Captain Benjamin Greene had kept on his whaling voyages. Well, I was sure I didn’t, but I made the mistake of saying that if any of them were anywhere they’d be up in the attic. So nothing would do but he must go up there and look. We didn’t find any, of course; just as I expected.”

“What’s a log book, Aunt Patty?” Djuna asked curiously.

“Why, that’s the record book that a ship captain writes in, whenever a ship makes a voyage,” she replied. “He puts down in it everything that happens, each day—how many miles the ship sailed, and what direction, and what the wind and weather was like, and if they saw any whales, and so on. But I don’t know whatever became of Captain Greene’s. He was awful disappointed, Cap’n Atterbury was.”

Just then Djuna heard a whistle outside, and hurried outdoors, where he found Billy Reckless waiting for him.

When he got close up to Billy, he spoke in a low voice. “Say, listen,” he whispered, “when we go into the house, don’t say anything to Aunt Patty about that eagle and the fish hawk we saw.”

“Why not?” asked Billy in surprise.

“Well, I told her about them,” Djuna whispered, “and she almost started to cry. What do you suppose is the matter with her?”

“She did?” exclaimed Billy, in astonishment. “For Pete’s sake! What’s wrong with talking about an eagle? It wasn’t our fault if we saw it, was it?”

“Well, I don’t know, but, anyway, I guess we hadn’t better say anything more about it while she’s around,” said Djuna. “Maybe she’s scared of them, or something.”

“Okay,” said Billy. “But that’s a funny thing to be scared of, when she didn’t even see it. Gee, I’ll bet she would have been scared if she’d been as close to it as
we
were! Did you ever see anything like those claws it had? Oh, boy!”

“Say, I’ve got something funny I want to show you,” said Djuna. “Come on in and see if you ever saw anything like it before.”

He led the way into the house and up the stairs to his own room. Opening the bureau drawer, he took out the queer-looking object that Champ had picked up on the floor of the attic—the smooth spotted stone held in the grip of a big bird’s claw. Billy took it and stared at it.

“What is it?” he asked. “Where did you get it?”

“Well, Champ picked it up on the attic floor,” Djuna said. “Aunt Patty says it was the top of an umbrella her grandmother used to have, the handle of the umbrella. But I don’t see how it could have been. It’s too big. Why, the stick of the umbrella must have been as big as a baseball bat, or this part here couldn’t screw into it. And Aunt Patty said her grandmother was a little bit of a woman. She
couldn’t
have carried an umbrella as big as that! And, look, what kind of a claw do you suppose that is?”

“Well, it’s some sort of bird,” said Billy, examining it more closely. “A rooster, maybe? I’d have said an eagle claw, right away, except that it isn’t half as big as that eagle’s claw. And what’s it holding onto that egg for?”

“That’s just what
I’d
like to know,” said Djuna. “It’s an egg, all right, but what kind of an egg? And what does it mean? It must mean
something!”

“Oh, I don’t think it has to mean anything special,” said Billy carelessly, handing it back to Djuna. “Lots of umbrella handles are crazy looking, like that. What are you going to do with it?”

“Nothing,” said Djuna putting it back in the bureau drawer. “I just wanted to show it to you, before I told you how Champ happened to find it. That’s really the funny part of it. It was right in the middle of the night.”