The Golden Eagle Mystery (9 page)

Djuna joined in the search and soon found the missing lid, lying on the mantel over the fireplace.

“How did it get
there
, of all places?” exclaimed Aunt Patty. “Oh, I remember now—I was just going to put it away when that junk man knocked at the door and put it down there and forgot it. Well, I wish I could remember where I put that egg, too!”

Djuna glanced at the box lid as he handed it to Aunt Patty. It was lined, like the box, with purple velvet and on top of the lid, deep into the wood, were carved the words:

“HATCH & HATCH.”

Djuna giggled. “That was a good place to put an egg, Aunt Patty,” he laughed. “Maybe that wooden egg hatched out and walked off, all by itself.”

Aunt Patty smiled. “Maybe so,” she agreed. “Maybe I should have known better than to put it in there. But I’m so used to seeing that name on the box that I never thought of that. That was my grandmother’s maiden name, Hatch was. Her father and his brother, her uncle, were in the importing trade, in Boston. Hatch & Hatch was the name of the firm. I suppose the box was something her father gave her, before she married Grandfather Hiram.”

“What do you suppose was in it, when it was new?” Djuna said wonderingly.

“Gracious, I haven’t an idea,” said Aunt Patty. “Fancy soap, maybe. I haven’t the faintest notion. Mother used to keep her spools of thread in it, so
I
do, too.”

Djuna picked the box up again and looked at it thoughtfully.

“Gee, she must have had a lot of spools,” he said, counting the round dents in the velvet lining. “Four crosswise and eight lengthwise—thirty-two of them! Gee, that’s a lot!”

“Well, she sewed a good deal, mother did,” said Aunt Patty. “She loved to sew. Can’t say that I do, myself. I guess I was always too much of a tomboy, when I was a young one. If you don’t learn to like sewing when you’re a girl, you never do, I suppose.”

Suddenly Djuna remembered the scrap of paper he and Billy had found on the floor of the attic that afternoon.

“Aunt Patty,” he said, “did you ever raise chickens?”

Aunt Patty looked startled. “My goodness, what ever made you think of that?” she asked. “No I never did. Never had any room to, this yard is so small. But why?”

“Well, I found a piece of paper up in the attic—wait, I’ll get it and show it to you.” He raced off, ran upstairs, and was back in a jiffy with the scrap of paper on which the puzzling words had been written.

“Look!” he said, handing it to her. “What does that mean, Aunt Patty?”

Aunt Patty put her spectacles back on her nose and held the paper up to the light.
“‘I have put the nest egg where it be
,’” she slowly read out loud. Djuna saw her fingers tremble. She handed the paper back to him, silently, and slowly got up out of her chair. Djuna saw with alarm that she suddenly looked old and pale and sick.

“I think I’ll go to bed early,” she said in a tired voice. “I—I don’t feel very well. I guess the sun was too much for me today.”

“But—but,” stammered Djuna, worried by her looks, “I didn’t—it isn’t—is there anything wrong with what that says?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what it means,” said Aunt Patty, firmly. “It’s just nonsense of some sort, as far as I can see. Don’t you think it’s time for bed, Djuna?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Djuna hurriedly. “I’ll just get Champ and put him in the shed. I won’t be a minute.”

He hurried out and called Champ. The squirrel had disappeared in the treetops, and Champ was wandering gloomily around the yard, pretending that he didn’t care. Djuna put him in the woodshed and told him good night. By the time he got back, Aunt Patty had lighted the lamps upstairs and had come down again to close up the house. He told her good night and went up to his room; and soon he heard her come up and go to hers.

He opened the bureau drawer, and started to put the torn slip of paper carefully away in it, and then stood there in utter surprise.

The umbrella knob that he had put there—the carved egg, held in the carved claw—was gone!

Djuna’s head whirled. It didn’t seem possible. He remembered perfectly how he had put the umbrella knob back in the drawer after showing it to Billy. And now it had vanished!

He stood staring at the clean shirts and underwear that covered the bottom of the drawer, all put there so neatly by Aunt Patty. And he began to feel alarmed.

Somebody, he was sure now, had come into the house. How long had that front door been standing open, while no one was at home? Aunt Patty had been away, he had been away, not even Champ had been left at home. Anyone might have come in! To steal?

But the thing that worried Djuna the most was the queerness of it all. A wooden darning egg, that Aunt Patty had said cost only a nickel! An old umbrella knob, carved like an egg, that wasn’t worth anything at all! It was all so queer that it made him feel dizzy. What sort of a person would come into a house and steal such things as that?

There could be only one answer to that question. A
crazy
person!

That was enough to make anybody worry, Djuna thought. A crazy person, who wants anything that
looks
like an egg, no matter what it’s made of!

The words written on the torn slip of paper in his hand now began to worry him for the first time.
“I have put the nest egg where it be
—” What did it all mean?

Three different kinds of eggs, and all of them mixed up together.
Scrambled
eggs!

But Djuna didn’t feel like laughing. He was wondering about the mysterious china egg, the nest egg, the one no one had seen. Aunt Patty had said she knew nothing about it. But was that what the unknown visitor had really been hunting for? Would he come back, to hunt for it again?

Djuna shivered. He undressed quickly, put out the light, and climbed into bed. But it was a long time before he got to sleep, because he could not stop wondering and wondering if the wooden darning egg, and the carved egg of the umbrella handle, and the china nest egg that somebody had put “where it belonged,” had anything to do with each other.

D
JUNA HELD
a long consultation with his faithful friend, Champ, the next morning, sitting out in the yard, where Aunt Patty couldn’t hear them.

“I don’t like the looks of things, Champ,” said Djuna, gloomily. “I don’t think it’s funny, one bit, when things disappear the way they do. Somebody must have got into the house and stolen those eggs, but what for? They aren’t worth anything. And that’s just what worries me. Do you think whoever it was will come back again?”

Champ wagged his stubby tail, but made no answer.

“It seems to me you might help a little, at least,” Djuna complained. “You’re the only one I can talk to about it. I don’t think I’d better tell Billy Reckless about it, because he’ll probably just laugh at me, for thinking anyone would steal an old wooden egg, or an old umbrella handle. And I can’t talk to Aunt Patty about it, because she might just get scared. But you’d better help, because I tell you right now I’m not going to forget it for one minute, until I find out what it’s all about. You hear me?”

This time, Champ barked twice, and wagged his tail harder than ever.

“All right, then,” said Djuna, “keep your eyes open. Now, you stay here with Aunt Patty, because I’m going over to Billy’s house for a while.”

But when he went into the house, to tell Aunt Patty where he was going, he was surprised to find her dressed in the old clothes she wore when she went cut in her boat

“Oh, are you going out for lobsters?” he exclaimed “Can I go with you?”

“Of course,” said Aunt Patty. “I was just going to ask you if you didn’t want to come along. Would you like to ask Billy and Emmy if they want to come, too?”

“Gee, that would be fine!” exclaimed Djuna eagerly. “Shall I go and get them?”

“Run along and come right back,” said Aunt Patty. “And be sure and tell Emmy’s mother to tell Emmy to bring a jacket or a sweater with her. It looks like there was a good stiff breeze blowing in from off the Point this morning, and we may get good and splashed before we get back.”

Djuna dashed off to Billy’s house on the run and found Billy helping his father polish the brasswork of a beautiful big motorboat tied up at the wharf. Billy’s father was just about the biggest man Djuna had ever seen. He had wide shoulders and big arms, and his face was very brown and jolly. His eyes were very bright blue and twinkled all the time, as if he had just heard a good joke.

“Hi, Djuna!” yelled Billy, waving at him. “Come on board!”

Djuna came forward shyly, when he first saw Billy’s father, but as soon as he saw Captain Reckless’ pleasant smile, he knew they would be friends.

“Hello, Djuna,” said the big man, “where’s that dog of yours?”

“Oh, he’s home,” said Djuna. “Aunt Patty sent me over to ask if Billy and Emmy can go lobstering with us.”

“I don’t know why not,” said Captain Reckless. “I’ll be glad to get rid of them for a while.” He winked at Djuna.

“Come on, let’s get Emmy,” said Billy eagerly.

They hurried back to the house next door to Billy’s and found Emmy sitting in the front room with her stamp album and a little pile of postage stamps that she was sorting out, and pasting into the book. Her back was turned toward them.

“Hey, Emmy, hurry up and come with us,” said Billy. “We’re going lobstering with Aunt Patty!”

Emmy jumped up from the table. “Well, wait till I put my stamps away,” she said. Then she turned around and saw Djuna.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said in a ladylike manner.

“What for?” said Billy. “Hurry up, Aunt Patty’s waiting!”

“Aunt Patty says you’d better bring a sweater or something,” said Djuna. “She says it’s so windy we’re probably going to get soaked.”

“Oh, goody!” exclaimed Emmy, hopping up and down. “That’s the way I like it!”

She gathered up the stamps and the stamp album as quickly as she could, put them away in the table drawer, and ran upstairs to get her sweater and tell her mother where she was going. Then all three of them hurried back to Aunt Patty’s house, where they found her waiting for them, and they all started for the wharf where her boat, the
Patagonia
, was tied. On the way there, they stopped at the fish market to get scraps to bait the lobster pots with. The man at the counter looked at Aunt Patty in surprise.

“You’re back early, aren’t you?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” replied Aunt Patty, with a puzzled expression. “I haven’t been anywhere this morning. We’re just starting.”

“Didn’t you go out before daylight this morning?” asked the fish man. “I went down to the wharf a little while ago, and didn’t see anything of you.”

“Well, why should you expect to?” retorted Aunt Patty. “I haven’t left the house this whole morning.”

“You haven’t?” he exclaimed. “But your boat wasn’t there at the wharf. I thought sure you must have made an early start.”

“Not there?” exclaimed Aunt Patty, in amazement. “Of course it’s there!”

“I’m just telling you what I saw, Mrs. Tubbs,” said the fish-store man. “The boat isn’t there. That’s all I know.”

Aunt Patty turned pale. Without another word she started off for the wharf as fast as she could go, and the three children hurried after her.

When they got within sight of the wharf, Aunt Patty stopped suddenly short and gave a cry of despair. Other fishing boats were tied along the long wharf, but the place where she always moored the
Patagonia
was empty!

With a groan, Aunt Patty hurried on. As she reached the wharf, she saw an old fisherman bending over a big net that he had spread out on the wharf to mend. She ran up to him.

“Where’s my boat?” she panted. “John, where’s my boat?”

The old man looked up. A look of complete surprise spread over his face.

“Why, Miss Patty!” he exclaimed. “Where did
you
come from? Ain’t you been out?”

Aunt Patty’s voice trembled. “Where is she?” she repeated wildly. “Where’s the
Patagonia?”

The old man got slowly to his feet. His mouth fell open, as he looked from Aunt Patty to the spot where her boat had been, and back again at Aunt Patty.

“Why,” he said, “ain’t you been out in her? What’s become of her?”

“Who’s taken her?” cried Aunt Patty. “Haven’t you seen her?”

The old fisherman shook his head. “She was gone when I got here,” he replied. “I didn’t think nothin’ about it. I supposed o’ course you had gone out extra early, to look at your lobster line. There ain’t nobody been here since I came, and I’ve been here since daylight. Had a heap o’ mendin’ to do on this net. No, sir, nobody’s been here exceptin’ Henry Steptoe come down here from his fish-house, few minutes ago, and I told him you must have gone out before daylight. Didn’t see a soul, no, ma’am.”

Aunt Patty turned quickly. “Billy,” she cried, “run and tell your father the
Patagonia
is gone! Ask him if he can help me hunt for her!”

“Shall I go with him?” asked Djuna excitedly.

“No, stay here with me,” said Aunt Patty. “I might need you.” She looked anxiously across the water of the harbor, which the wind was whipping into waves, but the
Patagonia
was nowhere in sight.

Aunt Patty walked out on the wharf and stood looking grimly at the two posts to which the
Patagonia
had been moored.

“You see?” she said bitterly, pointing at the posts. “The mooring lines are gone! They didn’t just break—somebody unfastened ’em and took ’em, along with the boat!”

“That’s a fact, sure’s my name is John Jackson!” exclaimed the old fisherman angrily. “The thievin’ scoundrels! I’d like to get my hands on ’em!”

Djuna leaned over the edge of the wharf and looked down at the water, which was only a foot or two below the planks on which they were standing.

“What are you looking at?” asked Emmy, peering over his shoulder.

“Oh, nothing,” said Djuna, straightening up. “I was just thinking it’s awful funny nobody heard them start the engine in the
Patagonia
. It made an awful noise, that time I went with Aunt Patty.”

“They wouldn’t have to start it,” said Emmy. “They could just come up in another boat and tow it away, and not make any noise at all.”