The Green Turtle Mystery (25 page)

Read The Green Turtle Mystery Online

Authors: Ellery Queen Jr.

He sat up very quickly and saw that the sun was hovering closer and closer to the tops of the foothills to the west. He rose, while Champ stretched, and said, “We’ve got to get busy and find a place to sleep.” They started off down the dusty country road again and neither of them said very much.

They had gone over two miles when Champ barked to call Djuna’s attention to a sprawling old house on the top of a hill about a third of a mile away. As Djuna looked up at it the sun scudded behind a cloud and the turret-like towers at the front of the old house seemed to be scowling down on the valley below.

“Jeepers!” Djuna said as he gazed up at the ugly old house, “they must have
some
place for us to sleep.”

They went on down the road for a short distance and then turned up the road that went up the hill. They were both puffing when they had nearly reached the top of the hill, where the road turned left to run alongside a high stone wall that completely surrounded the place. Djuna had almost decided to turn and go back when the road widened and swung under an iron gateway with the word hilltop on it.

The two iron gates were swung back and only a huge iron chain across the gateway barred their passage. Two rows of half-dead locust trees, whose leafless branches reached like gnarled hands into the sky, edged the weed-grown driveway. At the end the huge old house squatted like an age-old toad determined to keep its secrets. Djuna leaned against the rusty chain and stared down the driveway.

Champ looked up at him and barked and Djuna said, “I guess nobody lives here any more, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t be all right for us to stay here for the night.”

Champ, taking him at his word, went under the chain and started down the driveway with Djuna following. Champ had only gone a few feet when he began to snarl, and suddenly he rushed at a clump of bushes with his teeth bared.

“Stop it, Champ!” Djuna shouted. But the alarmed shout that came from behind the bushes drowned out Djuna’s words. The bushes parted and a boy about Djuna’s age came out. His hair was the colour of newly washed carrots. Djuna stared for a moment and then he shouted, “Be quiet, Champ!”

“Hallo!” the red-headed boy said, and he leaned down and patted Champ’s head and added, “Gosh! He certainly sounded like a pack of bloodhounds before I could see him.”

“Oh, he likes to try to scare people,” Djuna said. “Do you live here?”

“No. But I used to come here when I was a kid. My grandmother, Mrs. Hill, used to live here. I live over in Riverton. My name’s Buddy Turner,” the red-headed boy volunteered.

“Gee! I live over near Riverton, too,” Djuna said. “In Edenboro. How in the world did you ever get over here?”

“Well,” Buddy said, and he looked at Djuna and hesitated for an instant before he went on: “I was at a summer camp for boys over near Thompsonville. I had a letter from my mother saying my older brother was going to be home for a couple of days and I wanted to go home to see him, because he’s been away for almost three years. So-o-o!” Buddy stopped to grin. “I decided to go home to see him.”

“Say!” Djuna said. “I bet the police are looking for you. I was on my way home on the train when Champ there started to chase a cat. I chased
him
and my train left and I lost my wallet, so I had to hitch-hike. I went to the police station to tell ’em about my wallet and while I was there somebody telephoned in and told the police to keep their eyes open for a red-headed kid. I bet it was you.”

“I bet it was, too,” Buddy said, and this time when he grinned the sun struck his face and the freckles on it made it look like a sunset. He reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a wallet and added, “
There’s
your wallet. I picked it up on the platform at Thompsonville. I didn’t dare take it to the police because I knew the camp would notify them. And I didn’t dare buy a railway ticket for the same reason. I decided to hitch-hike home because I knew if I had to I could stay here overnight. No one has lived here since my grandmother died.”

“Gosh!” Djuna said and he could hardly believe that it was his own wallet that he held in his hand. “I never expected to see it again! I’m certainly much obliged to you.” When Djuna saw the ten-dollar bill nestling in the back of his wallet his face lit up and he added, “You know I’m
awful
hungry! I’d be glad to treat you to some supper if there is a place around here where we can buy some.”

“Gosh! I don’t believe there is any place around here to buy any supper, and besides if the police see me they’ll send me back to camp and I won’t be able to see my brother. I’m pretty hungry, too, but we can probably find something in the morning.”

“I have a few water biscuits,” Djuna said, after a few minutes. “Let’s go on to the porch of the house and eat them.” He peered ahead at it in the gathering shadows and giggled. “Gee! It looks spooky, doesn’t it?”

“Aw, there’s nothing to be afraid of around here,” Buddy said. “Let’s eat the biscuits quick and then we’ll have time to find a place to sleep.”

The boys and Champ approached the frowning old house slowly. When they reached it they all sat down gingerly on the bottom step and Djuna divided the six biscuits he had left. When they had finished they stole around the house and peeped in a couple of the windows but it was so dark they couldn’t see anything. They went out to the barns and stables, and in a high loft next to the carriage shed they found an abundance of hay for a bed. They had just scooped out a place in the hay to sleep for the night when a screeching noise sounded outside in the gloom three times in succession.

“Jeepers! What was that?” Buddy asked.

“Just an owl, I think,” Djuna replied. But he didn’t sound too sure about it.

There was a complete silence for a time and then Djuna said, “I want to thank you again for finding my wallet and giving it back to me.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Buddy said and he sounded half-asleep already. “I’d have given it back to you sooner if I had known where to find you.”

The owl hooted again. But now it was hooting for its own entertainment. Both the boys and Champ were fast asleep.

CHAPTER III

THE WONDERFUL WAGON

D
JUNA
and Buddy were awakened the next morning by Champ when the sun was well over the horizon. Champ was barking at swallows that were flitting in and out of the sunlight that came through a shuttered opening high in the loft.

The two boys opened their eyes and looked at each other and then all around in puzzled wonder for a moment. Then they remembered the night before and Djuna said, “Jeepers! I wonder what time it is?”

“I don’t have any watch,” Buddy said, “but I think I can tell by the sun when we get outside.” They both got up and brushed themselves off as well as they could and went through the stables to a door that led into the carriage shed.

“This is where my grandmother used to keep all her carriages,” Buddy said, trying to push back an unruly lock of red hair to get it out of his eyes. “I remember, when I was just a little kid I used to come out here and see the coachman polishing up the harness and stuff.”

“I suppose she used this for a garage, too,” Djuna said. “I see some grease on the floor over there.”

“Oh, no. That’s probably axle grease,” Buddy said. “My father told me she wouldn’t ever ride in a car. She wouldn’t even have one. She just had horses and carriages.”

“Gee, that’s funny,” Djuna said. “It must have been an awful long time ago because now you hardly ever see a horse and carriage.”

“Oh, it was,” Buddy said. “It was an awful long time ago. I can hardly remember it. I was only six or seven years old when I used to come here. But I do remember my father said they sold all the horses and carriages, and everything at an auction after my grandmother died. Everything, and the old place has just stood here empty ever since.”

They went out of the carriage shed into the bright sunlight, and Buddy put up one hand to shade his eyes and looked at the position of the sun in the sky very carefully. Djuna watched him and when he said, “It’s about half-past seven,” Djuna just nodded and didn’t say anything because he had never tried to tell the time by the sun.

As they wandered down the weed-grown road from the carriage shed by the gloomy old house they hardly looked at it because they were both busy with their own thoughts. Even Champ was unusually silent as he trotted along beside them.

Suddenly Buddy said, “Do you know what? I bet I could eat a whole—a whole horse.” Djuna snickered.

“I was thinking about the same thing. I bet I could too,” he said. “Let’s go down the valley road as fast as we can, and maybe we can buy some breakfast at a farmhouse. I’m starved and I can tell Champ is, too, by the look of him.”

After they had ducked under the rusty chain at the entrance to Hilltop they stood for a moment looking down at the rapid little Herring River and the dusty road that wound close to it and the haze that was slowly rising off the lowlands in the heat of the day.

“Do you suppose they are cooking something good in that house with the smoke coming out of the chimney, across the river?” Buddy asked, and he licked his lips.

But Djuna didn’t hear him. He was staring down at the ground; and when he didn’t answer Buddy turned to watch him while he bent down and looked even closer.


What’s
the matter?” Buddy said. “Did you lose something again?”

“No,” Djuna said thoughtfully. “I was looking at these car tracks. A car came up here and you can see where it turned round.”

“Why wouldn’t they turn round?” Buddy asked. “They probably thought this road went some place, but when they got up here they found out it didn’t, so they had to turn around. Let’s go! I’m
really
starving.”

“That’s so,” Djuna said. “This
is
the end of the road. But you’d think any one would know it just came up here before they started up it.”

“Gee!” Buddy said as they started down the winding road. “How can you know what any one else thinks unless they
tell
you?”

“You can’t, really,” Djuna said slowly. “But I like to try to figure it out, because lots of times people don’t tell you the truth.”

“You certainly do think of the craziest things,” Buddy said, and then he groaned. “Boy! Am I
hungry
!”

When they got down on the valley road and started west, with the sun on their backs, they supposed it wouldn’t take very long before they reached a place where they could get something to eat. But they soon discovered that the farmhouses along that stretch were on the other side of the river and there wasn’t any bridge.

They plodded along, mostly in silence, and had gone almost two miles before the first house loomed ahead. A big grin of joy spread across Buddy’s freckled face when he saw it and he said, “Gosh! I’ve gone so long without anything to eat I don’t know whether I’ll be
able
to eat.”

“I guess if someone put a big bowl of dry cereal and sliced peaches and real cream and sugar in front of you, you’d be able to eat it all right,” Djuna said, and any one hearing him say it would have thought that that was
just
what he would be able to get when they reached the farmhouse.

“Well, I don’t think I would refuse it,” Buddy said. “What shall we have
next
?”

“Hey! We haven’t had that yet,” Djuna said, “But I think what I’d like next would be some scrambled eggs and bacon and some toast with jelly—–”

“And a nice big, cold glass of milk,” Buddy put in. “Only I think I’ll have a drink of water before I have anything else. What do you think we ought to say to them when we get there?”

“Let’s just ask them if we can’t buy some breakfast,” Djuna said. “It doesn’t make any difference to
me
what it is.”

“I don’t care either,” said Buddy. “Just as long as it’s something we can eat.”

In another couple of minutes they were in front of the square grey house that stood a little way back from the road. All the blinds on the east side and the front of the house were drawn to keep out the sun. Just as they started in the driveway to go to the back door a large black shepherd dog came charging around the back corner of the house with its fangs bared, snarling viciously. Fortunately, and only a few feet before it reached them, it was thrown back on its haunches when it came to the end of the heavy chain attached to its collar.


Jiminy crimps!
” Buddy said, and Djuna made a hasty grab at Champ’s collar as he started to rush forward and snarl defiance.

“Stop it, Champ!” Djuna said, as he snapped Champ’s leash on his collar. They retreated hastily to the road, dragging Champ behind them.

“I think,” Buddy said, drawing a huge sigh of relief, “we’d better go to the front door.”

“Sure,” Djuna agreed. “After all, we’re not tramps. We’re willing to pay for what we get.”

They mounted the front steps, knocked on the front door and waited with bated breath for an answer. When they heard footsteps approaching they grinned at each other and both looked a great deal happier.

“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice said from inside without opening the door. The voice was harsh and not at all inviting. The grin froze on the boys’ faces and Champ barked once to show he didn’t like it either.

“Two—two boys and a dog,” Djuna said, in a moment, when he could think just what to say. “We’d like to get some breakfast, please.”


Breakfast!
” the woman shouted back. “I
washed
my breakfast dishes over two hours ago. My man’s been out in the field workin’ since six o’clock and you tramps—–” She broke off and her voice rose as she said, “
BREAKFAST!

“But, ma’am, we’re not tramps,” Djuna said stoutly. “We’re just two boys on our way to Riverton and we’re quite willing to pay for whatever we can get.”

“Breakfast!” the woman snorted again as though she wouldn’t ever forget the word.

“I just said breakfast because—because—–”

“Because it was the first thing you thought of,” Buddy whispered.

“Because it was the first I thought of,” Djuna repeated. “We’re awful hungry and we’ll eat anything you want to sell us.”

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