The Brown Fox Mystery (8 page)

They learned from him how to fish for crappies at a depth of from two to four feet, with lively minnows on their fine wire hooks, and how to bait their hooks with red worms or grubs to get bluegills or sunfish near lily pads, moss banks or sunken brush piles.

He showed them old stumps, sunken logs, lily-pad pockets and submerged rock piles where they would be most apt to catch bass with minnows and night crawlers for bait.

One day at about one o’clock in the afternoon he came chugging up to their dock in the
Little Buttercup
and said, “Mates, have you ever caught any catfish?”

“Just a few little ones in Lost Pond at Edenboro,” said Djuna.

“Well, come aboard, an’ I’ll show you the first step in landin’ some real cats,” Captain Ben said.

When they were up near the north end of the lake Captain Ben threw his engine out of gear and dropped an anchor right in the center of a floating mass of lily pads. A moment later he went into the wheelhouse and brought out a covered lard can. Djuna and Tommy watched him with very close attention as he took the lid off the lard can and lifted a burlap bag out of it. Then Captain Ben roared with laughter as they both grabbed at their noses and said,
“Pugh!”

“What in the world do you have in there?” asked Djuna, and grabbed at his nose again.

“Chicken entrails,” Captain Ben informed them. “I killed a couple of chickens a few days ago for roastin’ an’ after I cleaned ’em I put their insides in this bag an’ let ’em hang in the sun until the neighbors began to complain.”

“Do you use them to catch catfish?” Tommy asked.

“Yes, and no,” said Captain Ben with a chuckle. “I got a couple o’ rocks in the bottom of that there bag to make it sink, an’, as you see, about ten feet of line tied to the top with this cork on the end for a marker so we c’n find it when we come back later. I’m a goin’ to throw this overboard, an’ we’ll leave it here until this evenin’. Catfish c’n smell anything a mile away. When we come back they’ll be chewin’ at this bag an’ ready to eat a wildcat, if we used him for bait.”

That evening when they went back with some overripe shrimp for bait, shrimp that Captain Ben had “aged” as he had “aged” the contents of the burlap bag, they caught catfish until they were tired of hauling them in. The sun, a great golden ball of fire, was just dropping behind the wooded hills to the west, and it was just time for the catfish to have their supper. Their appetites had been aroused by the smell of the burlap bag but they had not been able to get the contents. When the shrimps were offered to them they went crazy.

“My golly!” said Djuna with a startled voice as soon as he had dropped in his bait, and it had had time to go to the bottom, where catfish always feed. “I’ve got one already!”

“Reel him in afore he has a chance to get all tangled up in the weeds,” Captain Ben said. “And watch out for his spines when you take him off the hook. I got a pair of long-nosed pliers to take him off the hook if he’s swallowed it, which he prob’ly has. They’re awful hogs, them bullheads.”

“I got one, too!” Tommy shouted. “Hurry up with the landing net, Djuna!”

“You don’t need no landin’ net f’r them cannibals,” said Captain Ben. “Jest haul ’em over the side.”

A moment later there were two of the brownish-black fish flopping on the deck of the
Little Buttercup
, and each of them weighed well over a pound. Their fine, scaleless, rubberlike skins, big heads, long upper jaws and sharp horns made them look more like a bad dream than a fish.

“Jeepers, how do you ever get ’em off the hook?” Tommy said as he stared down at the ugly-looking fish.

“You want to be careful o’ them sharp spines, too, like I said,” Captain Ben warned as he picked up Djuna’s fish by putting the forefinger and thumb of his right hand carefully around its neck and extracting the hook from its mouth with his left hand. “That’s the way you do it,” he added, “but you got to be mighty careful ’r you’ll git a nasty jab.”

For the next hour they reeled in catfish until their hands and arms and backs ached. When it was nearly dark Captain Ben said, “Well, have you had enough, mates?”

“My golly,” Djuna said. “
I
have. What are we going to do with all of ’em?”

“Oh, they’re mighty sweet eatin’,” said Captain Ben. “Some people don’t like ’em, if they see ’em afore they’re skinned, but we won’t have no trouble findin’ people who’ll be glad to have ’em. If you boys’ll just pull up them anchors we’ll be gettin’ back. Miss Annie might worry if you’re out here too late.”

“Sure!” they said together, and a moment later the
Little Buttercup
was drifting past the huge dark bulk of the old icehouse at the north end of the lake while Captain Ben was trying to get his engine started. Only the sharp whirr of the starter broke the silence of the evening as the engine refused to catch.

“Now, what’s the matter with this dog-blasted thing!” Captain Ben growled as he fussed over the engine, and got ready to prime it.

“Say, Captain Ben!” Djuna whispered suddenly. “There’s a light in that old icehouse. What do you suppose they’re doing in there at night?”

“They’re prob’ly behind with their orders o’ sawdust,” Captain Ben said as he stood erect and looked toward the gloomy old building.

“What’re you doin’, Ben, sneakin’ around here without your engine goin’?” a sharp, disagreeable voice said from the darkness of the bank.

“Eh? Is that you, Lame—I mean, Lem?” Captain Ben said tartly. “Who’s sneakin’ around? I—”

“Well, keep away from here, or you might find yerself pickin’ buckshot outa y’r pants!” the voice snarled from the darkness.

“You threatenin’ me, Lem?” asked Captain Ben softly while Djuna and Tommy held their breath.

“I’m tellin’ you to stay away fr’m here!” the voice said angrily.

A small door beside the lower platform of the icehouse opened and a man with a lantern stepped out and said in a low voice, “Who are you talking to, Lem?”

“The man who goes by here twice a day makin’ deliveries with his motorboat,” the man Captain Ben called Lame-Brain replied. “He’s sneakin’ around here—”

“Lissen, you lug-headed lubber!” Captain Ben roared. “Nobody’s sneakin’ around here. We been out fishin’ an’ I’m havin’ a little trouble with m’ engine. I—”

“Hello, Captain! How are you?” a hearty, friendly voice said. “This is Baldwin.” He held the lantern he was carrying up beside his face and they could see him smiling. “Lem here’s had a grouch all day. Don’t pay any attention to him, Captain. We got so sick of hearing him grumble we sent him out here to get a little night air to cure his grouch. We’re a little behind with our orders so we’re working at night.”

“That’s what I opined to the boys with me,” said Captain Ben, and he added with a chuckle, “No wonder Lem’s got a grouch if you’re makin’ him work at night. Jest thinkin’ about work al’ays made
him
grouchy.”

“If you’ll just step on shore I’ll show you what kind of work I can do,” Lem snarled. “I’ll—”

“Shut up, and get back to work!” Baldwin snapped at Lem, and after a moment of silence they heard footsteps and saw Lem disappear into the dimly lit interior of the icehouse.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to take my apology for him, Captain,” Baldwin said. “He’s not himself today. Have any luck fishing?”

“That’s all right,” said Captain Ben quietly, and added, “Yes. We just caught a whoppin’ big mess of bullheads. Be glad to give you some if you’d like ’em.”

“N-o-o,” Baldwin said slowly. “I guess not, thank you, Captain. We don’t care much for bullheads.”

“Well, lots of people don’t,” said Captain Ben. “I got to find out what’s a matter with my engine. Good night.”

“Good night, Captain,” Baldwin called back warmly.

“Jeepers!” Tommy whispered. “That man Lem sounded awful mean.”

“Oh, he just don’t know no better,” said Captain Ben. “His bark is worse’n his bite.”

“What would he have done if you’d gone ashore, Captain?” Tommy asked.

“Nuthin’,” said Captain Ben and he chuckled. “He’s too lazy to run!”

“But why did he warn you to stay away from the icehouse?” Djuna asked thoughtfully. “Do you suppose he really had a gun?”

“I don’t know whether he had a gun, or not,” said Captain Ben. “I thought of turnin’ a light on him, but I was afraid I’d scare him to death. He always scared awful easy.”

Captain Ben turned a flashlight on his engine and tried the starter again. The engine caught with a full-throated roar this time and Captain Ben muttered, “Now, what do yuh suppose was the matter with the consarned thing?”

“Golly, I wouldn’t know, Captain,” said Djuna.

“Well, we gotta be gettin’ along,” Captain Ben said as he turned on his running lights. “Have either of you boys ever cleaned any catfish?”

“No, sir,” they said.

“Well, I’ll take all of ’em along with me then,” said Captain Ben, “an’ clean the ones I don’t give away. You have to skin ’em an’ it’s quite a job if yuh don’t know how. I’ll bring a couple along an’ show you how in the mornin’ and I’ll bring yuh a nice mess all cleaned.”

When the boys arrived home they found Miss Annie sitting in the comfortable chair in her bedroom reading a book, with Champ asleep at her feet. Champ leaped up to greet them with a happy medley of barks and Miss Annie said, “Whew! You must have caught an awful lot of fish.”

“Oh, we did,” Djuna said happily. “We just hauled them in one after another. We never caught so many in our lives before. We got tired of reeling them in. Captain Ben is going to clean some for us and bring them over in the morning.”

“That’s nice,” said Miss Annie.

“Captain Ben’s engine wouldn’t start,” Tommy said, “and we drifted right down in front of that old icehouse, and—”

“But he got it started all right, in a minute,” Djuna put in hastily as he scowled and shook his head at Tommy because he didn’t want Tommy to tell Miss Annie about the threats Lame-Brain had made. He knew that they would worry her.

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said as he got the idea. “He got it started all right.”

“Well, you better skidaddle to bed now,” Miss Annie said, “or you’ll be sleeping all day tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night, Miss Annie,” they said.

“Why didn’t you want me to tell Miss Annie about Lame-Brain?” Tommy whispered when they were alone.

“Because it would worry her,” Djuna whispered back. “She’s afraid I’m going to get mixed up in something.”

“Like the time those men robbed the bank in Clinton and
we
helped catch ’em?” Tommy whispered with his eyes shining.

“Yeah,” said Djuna. “Good night.”

“G-o-o-d night,” Tommy said as he yawned.

Miss Annie had been up and around for quite a long time when Djuna and Tommy bounced into the kitchen the next morning. They had gotten up at dawn to try to get some bass near a pile of rocks down the lake. They had landed only one, and had remembered to wet their hands very carefully before they took it off the hook and put it back in the lake, because it was under the legal size.

“Great glories!” said Miss Annie, pretending to be very severe. “How many times must I tell you not to come bouncing in here like two ten-ton trucks? You’ll break every dish in the cottage!”

“Y-u-m-m!” they both said after they had taken a deep sniff.

“Cookies, I betcha!” said Djuna.

Miss Annie nodded her head. “Hermits, molasses and oatmeal cookies,” she said.

“Three kinds!”
Tommy said and rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I’ll give you both one of each kind, if you sit down and eat your breakfasts quietly,” said Miss Annie.

“Why can we only have one?” Djuna wanted to know just before he took a large mouthful of dry cereal with sliced bananas.

“Because I’m baking them for some of the other children around the lake whose mothers don’t know how to bake, or don’t have a suitable oven,” said Miss Annie. “I have so much time on my hands while you boys go fishing that I’m tired of sitting on the porch, just knitting. Those McKelvey and Brewster children seemed to like the ones I baked for them the other day, so I’m going to have some fun and bake ’em some more.”

“Golly, that’s awful nice of you, Miss Annie,” Djuna said. “I know a lot of the other kids who like cookies, too, because I’ve given them some of the ones you baked for us.”

“Good!” said Miss Annie, and her eyes twinkled. “The more the merrier. I’ll have a good big batch of each kind made by this afternoon when Captain Ben comes to make his deliveries and we’ll get him to take us with him so that we can make some deliveries, too.”

“Say, that’ll be fun,” said Tommy. “Won’t those kids be surprised!”

“And tickled, too,” Djuna added.

“I’m going to bake a different kind every couple of days,” said Miss Annie. “There are a number of kinds I’ve never tried, and this will give me a chance to try them.”

Djuna and Tommy were not around when Captain Ben came to make his morning delivery and to show them how to clean a catfish. They had gone over to see Andy McKelvey, two cottages away from them, and when they found out what he was doing they became so interested that they forgot all about Captain Ben.

When they arrived at the McKelveys’, Mrs. McKelvey, who was a very pleasant woman with two dimples, just like her daughter Betsy, said, “Andy and Don are up on that hill behind the house playing with their heliograph. Just go up through the woods to the top and you’ll find them.”

“Oh, sure. We’ll find them all right,” said Djuna. “Thank you, Mrs. McKelvey.”

Mrs. McKelvey smiled at both of them and said to Djuna, “Aren’t you the little boy I read about in the papers, the one who helped the Secret Service men catch some counterfeiters, and helped the state troopers capture two jewel thieves?”

“We—ll, yes, ma’am,” Djuna half stuttered, and he became so embarrassed that he looked a great deal the same way Champ looked when he was caught sleeping on Miss Annie’s best couch. He scuffed his toe and looked so uncomfortable that Mrs. McKelvey gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Andy and Don will be very glad to see both of you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Djuna said hastily and turned and ran, with Tommy right behind him.

“Chattering chimps!”
Tommy said when he caught up to Djuna. “
Everybody
seems to know about you.”