The Brown Fox Mystery (11 page)

A few minutes later Djuna and Tommy came out of the woods onto the old corduroy road that was overgrown with grass and hardly passable now, that had once been used by ice wagons. It seemed still and gloomy because the thick underbrush on each side of the road and the overhanging inches of the trees overhead shut out the sunlight and side the road seem like some long, dark passage.

They walked along silently, each busy with his own thoughts, until Tommy suddenly broke the silence. “I wonder,” he said, “why that insurance man acted as though he thought Captain Ben set his own boat and boathouse on fire? Do you suppose he found something that made him think Captain Ben did it?”

“No!”
said Djuna stoutly. “What could he have found if Captain Ben didn’t do it?” Then he added, hastily, as though to reassure himself, “And he
didn’t
do it!”

“I don’t think he did it, either,” Tommy answered, “but people do awful funny things sometimes.” He turned his head slightly and looked at Djuna out of the corners of his eyes. “Do you have any idea about who might have done it?” he asked Djuna.

“Me?” Djuna said, and then he giggled. “How could I, when I’m not even supposed to think about it?” Then he put his finger to his lips and whispered, “We better be quiet. I can see a building through the leaves, ahead.”

“It must be the cookhouse, or the place where they used to keep sawdust that Captain Ben told us about,” Tommy whispered back as he peered through the leaves.

A few minutes later they came to a clearing and saw a small, unpainted building, with a red brick chimney jutting out of the roof at the back. It was set on short stilts about six inches above the ground and all of the panes of glass had been broken out of the windows. Beside it was a larger building that had no windows, and in front of both buildings loomed the back of the huge unpainted icehouse.

“Jeepers, it’s kind of spooky around here,” Tommy whispered. “Do you suppose we better go back?”

“Let’s go down this turn-in where they used to drive their wagons to load them and take a peek at the front,” Djuna whispered back.

Tommy nodded his head, without too much enthusiasm, and they started to make their way through the tangle of bushes and brambles that had overgrown the driveway to the front of the old icehouse.

They had almost reached the front and Djuna was preparing to peek around the corner when a voice came out of nowhere and said, “What’s the big idea, boys?”

They both jumped and then they saw a short, stocky man with a swarthy face and a three days’ growth of beard standing only ten feet in front of them. He had stepped out from behind a large pile of sawdust and had a scoop shovel in his hands. His face was anything but inviting as he stared at them with dark, piercing eyes.

“Well, you see, sir,” Djuna said when he could manage to speak. Then he stopped because the man’s face was as expressionless and cold-looking as the former contents of the old icehouse.

“Are—are you Mr. Baldwin?” Djuna said as he tried again.

“If I am, what of it?” the man wanted to know, and from the way he was holding the shovel in his hands Tommy wondered if he was going to hit them with it.

“We—we,” Djuna began again in a rush of words, “were out fishing with Captain Ben a few nights ago when his motorboat stalled in front of the icehouse, here, and ever since then we’ve wanted to come over and see how they used to put ice in here.”

“Oh, so you’re friends of Captain Ben’s, eh?” the man said, and in spite of the three-day beard he was wearing his face was very pleasant when he smiled. “I thought from the way you were stealing up on the place you might be going to set it on fire.”

“We were afraid of that man that sits out in front all the time,” Tommy said as he found his voice.

“Afraid of Lem?” the man said with a laugh. “Shucks, Lem wouldn’t hurt a flea! He talks big, when he talks, but that’s all. But Lem isn’t here today, anyway, so you got nothing to be afraid of.”

“Are you Mr. Baldwin?” Djuna asked again.

“No. My name is Jones,” he said. “Baldwin is my partner. Here he is now,” he finished as a taller man, who also hadn’t shaved in several days, came around the corner.

“These are the boys who were with Captain Ben the other night when you were talking to him,” Mr. Jones explained to Mr. Baldwin as Mr. Baldwin’s dark eyes roved suspiciously over Tommy and Djuna.

Then he smiled, too, and both of the boys felt a great deal more at ease.

“Why, hello, boys!” said Mr. Baldwin cordially, and his teeth flashed very white against his beard and dark complexion. “It’s nice of you to come over to see us. Pretty lonely here,” he added as he advanced toward them with his hand outstretched.

“Thanks very much,” Djuna said as both he and Tommy shook hands with Mr. Baldwin. “We were sort of afraid that you might not want us around. We wondered how they used to put ice in the old icehouse.”

“No, we’re glad to see you,” said Mr. Baldwin, “but I don’t know too much about how they did put the ice in there. I’ll tell you the best I can. C’mon out here and I can show you better,” he added cheerfully as he led the way toward the edge of the water.

“Jeepers, this is swell of you, Mr. Baldwin!” Tommy said, responding to Mr. Baldwin’s friendliness.

“I’m glad to do it,” said Mr. Baldwin as he pointed toward the spot where the chute came almost down to the surface of the lake. “First, they used to start near the end of the chute, there, and cut a channel all around it so they could float the pieces of ice up to it.”

“How big were the pieces of ice?” asked Djuna.

“Oh, they varied some,” Mr. Baldwin said. “Of course the thickness depended on how cold it was and how deep the ice had frozen. When they got the ice over on the chute they hauled it up on a sort of conveyor that had iron claws on it to hold the ice. They started at the bottom, of course, and built up. As fast as they filled it they put boards across that opening in the front to close it up. The chute and the platform were adjustable so that as they worked up they kept raising them until they got to the top.”

“Oh, I think I see,” said Djuna. “They hauled the ice up on the conveyor to the platform and then slid it into the icehouse?”

“That’s right,” Mr. Baldwin said. “They hauled it up on the conveyor but when it went off on the platform it just slid into the icehouse because the platform was tilted, and landed on sleds inside.”

“Did they pack each layer of ice with sawdust?” Tommy asked.

“No, sir!” said Mr. Baldwin. “They just packed the sawdust around the edges. Everyone thinks they packed it between the layers, but they didn’t. The ice kept better right back to back.”

“How—” Djuna began when Mr. Baldwin interrupted him.

“That’s all there was to it, boys,” he said, and he was smiling again. “Glad you came over, and glad I could tell you. Come again.”

“Could—could we look in the icehouse?” Tommy asked.

“Nothing to look at but emptiness and cobwebs,” Mr. Baldwin said, and he stretched out his hand to Djuna again. “Glad to know you,” he went on as Djuna took his hand. “Good-by, now. We got to get back to work.”

The next thing Tommy and Djuna realized they were back on the corduroy road, plodding silently back toward the Herrick dock. Suddenly Tommy said, “Jeepers, he didn’t seem to know much about just how they filled the icehouse, did he?”

“No. He didn’t want us around there, for some reason,” Djuna said thoughtfully. “He wanted to get rid of us.”

“I wonder why?” said Tommy.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Djuna replied.

When the boys arrived home they found Miss Annie busy getting supper. While they set the table in the kitchen, and helped her, they told Miss Annie about the insurance man who had intimated that Captain Ben had set his own boat on fire, and about their visit to the old icehouse.

“Why, I never heard of such a thing!” said Miss Annie, and she looked very distressed. “Captain Ben wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Djuna said quietly. “And I betcha I can prove it if—”

“Djuna!” Miss Annie said very sternly. “I don’t want you to go meddlin’ in things that don’t concern you! Did you remember my thread?”

“Yes. ma’am,” Djuna said meekly, and fished the wrapped spool of thread out of his pocket and handed it to Miss Annie. Then he got up his courage and said, “But I think if Captain Ben is in trouble it does concern us, because he’s been awful nice to us. He—”

“Is that why you went over to that icehouse?” Miss Annie interrupted sharply. “Do you think they had something to do with burning Captain Ben’s boat?”

“I don’t know,” said Djuna. “I just—”

“Well, you keep away from that icehouse,” Miss Annie said as she searched Djuna’s face. “I forbid you to go there again. You don’t have to worry about Captain Ben. If he
didn’t
burn his boat he’ll be paid for it!”

When Djuna went into the kitchen the next morning he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It was a lovely morning with the summer sunshine streaming in the kitchen window and dancing across the kitchen floor. Both he and Tommy had overslept and were trying to make up for it by dressing hastily and expecting to eat breakfast as hastily, so that they could get out on the lake and start fishing. Andy McKelvey had gone to the city with his father, so they weren’t going to practice with the heliograph until the next morning.

Djuna hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t hear Miss Annie moving around in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready, as usual. That was why he was so surprised when he not only failed to see any breakfast, but also failed to see Miss Annie.

Her door was closed and there was no sound coming from inside her room. He was staring at the door with a worried frown on his face as Tommy came bouncing into the kitchen.

“Boy, am I hungry!” said Tommy as he appeared. “I—” Then he, too, saw the closed door and stared at it for a moment before he lowered his voice and said, “Where’s Miss Annie? Do you—do you s’pose something’s the matter?”

“Golly, I don’t know,” said Djuna anxiously. “I don’t ever remember Miss Annie staying in bed, unless she was sick.”

“Maybe she
is
sick,” Tommy whispered. “Jeepers, what’d you think we ought to do?”

Djuna didn’t answer. He crossed the kitchen and knocked gently on Miss Annie’s bedroom door. “Miss Annie!” he called softly. “Are you all right, Miss Annie?”

Both of the boys listened breathlessly as they heard a faint stirring inside the room.

“Miss Annie!”
Djuna repeated urgently. “
Miss Annie!
Are you all right?”

“What—what’s that?” asked Miss Annie’s startled voice from inside the room. “What? Well, for
goodness gracious
sake! Half-past eight! Yes, yes, I’m all right. I must’ve overslept. I’ll be out in a jiffy. Don’t go far away, we’ll have breakfast in a few minutes.”

Djuna and Tommy exchanged brief glances of relief and let out their breath before they shouted “Okay!” Then they went tearing through the living room and porch and out on the path that led down to the lake to give vent to their feelings. They didn’t say anything to each other about it but their momentary state of anxiety had affected both of them deeply.

Then Djuna remembered that he hadn’t let Champ out of the screened back porch, where he slept, so he wheeled around and ran around the cottage and opened the door.

Champ gave a couple of sharp barks to show his appreciation and then he went tearing around the yard faster and faster until he lost his footing and rolled completely over three times before Djuna could gather him up in his arms to hug him. He had been so worried about Miss Annie a few minutes before that it gave him a great sense of relief to hug Champ and have Champ try to lick his face with his red tongue, before he began to wiggle to show he wanted to get down.

Ever since the fourth morning they had been at Silver Lake, when Champ had fallen out of the rowboat and nearly drowned because his legs were too short to keep him afloat until Djuna rescued him, Champ had preferred to sit on the front porch with Miss Annie, rather than go fishing.

When Djuna put Champ down, he trotted down to the dock with Djuna but he wouldn’t get into the rowboat. Instead, he stretched out on his stomach, put his black nose on his forepaws and gravely watched as Tommy and Djuna cleaned out the boat.

They had just finished the job and were hoping that breakfast was going to be ready pretty quick when Miss Annie’s cheerful voice called from the front porch.

“Your breakfast is ready,” she said, and she didn’t need to say anything more. They went up the path so fast that they almost beat Miss Annie back to the kitchen.

Djuna grinned at Miss Annie and said, “Sleepy-head!” as he sat down to the table.

“That’s just what I am,” agreed Miss Annie, and she was so nervous that she broke the yoke of an egg as she was putting it into a poaching pan. “I do declare, I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I just couldn’t seem to get to sleep until almost daylight. That’s why I overslept.”

Djuna looked at Miss Annie quite carefully and saw that her usual smile was replaced by an expression of anxiety and that she looked quite wan and tired. He would have liked to say something about it but he didn’t know just what to say, so he didn’t say anything. But after he had finished his breakfast he gave her a hug to show the things he couldn’t say and she rewarded him with a sweet, if anxious, smile.

“Now, remember, Djuna,” she said as he and Tommy started for the dock, “I don’t want you to go near that icehouse.”

“Of course not,” Djuna promised. “What time shall we be back for lunch?”

“One o’clock, as usual,” said Miss Annie absentmindedly.

A few minutes later, when they pulled away from the dock with Djuna rowing, and Tommy sitting on the stern thwart, Miss Annie appeared in the doorway of the porch and waved good-by to them. Djuna rested one forearm on both oars as he waved back. His face was vaguely troubled as he watched her until she turned her back and disappeared, because he remembered that she had never come out to wave good-by to them before.