The Green Turtle Mystery (10 page)

“Gee! He’s a swell dog!” Ben said. “Can he do any tricks?”

“No,” said Djuna. “I never taught him any because he has so many tricks of his own.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“We-e-ll,” Djuna said. “They’re hard to describe. He did one of them this afternoon when he first saw me. He always does the same thing after I’ve been away from him a little while, or a long time. Instead of running up and barking at me he begins to run around me in circles. He keeps going faster and faster until he’s going so fast he turns a couple of somersaults. Then he lands on his stomach, stretches his hind feet out behind him, puts his chin on his paws and lies there grinning at me to show how glad he is to see me.”

“
Honest?
” Ben asked and he patted Champ with new respect.

“Honest!” said Djuna.

“What else does he do?” Ben wanted to know.

“Well,” Djuna said. “He doesn’t bark to tell me it’s time for his food, like other dogs. He just jumps straight up and down. He sort of gets up on his hind feet, and then jumps about half his length off the ground.”

“Doesn’t he bark at all when he jumps?” asked Ben.

“No. He just keeps jumping up and down, and up and down, and up and down until I get so sick of it I go out and get his supper for him.”

“He kind of earns it,” Ben said. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Djuna said, “but I forgot to tell you what happened on the way over here. We saw a man who acted almost as crazy as that Mr. Tinker where Mr. Furlong lives.”

“Did he act as crabby, too?” asked Ben.

“Worse!” Djuna said. He told Ben how Champ had barked at the man when they went in the store to buy Champ a leash, and how the wind had blown the man’s hat off, and about the green feather in it.

“And then,” Djuna said, indignantly, “he took the feather and held it between his fingers and sort of snapped it at Champ, just as though he was putting some kind of a curse on him.”

“He
didn’t?
” Ben said. “Did he
say
anything?”

“Yes. But I couldn’t understand it,” said Djuna. “It was in some foreign language.”

“Gee!” Ben said. “What did it sound like?”

Djuna thought a minute, and then he said, “Say, write down the way it sounded to me in your notebook so we can ask Mr. Furlong about it.”

Ben got out his notebook and pencil and Djuna struggled to find words that would sound like the words the man had said. Finally, he said, “Here I better write it.” He took Ben’s notebook and printed: “A-H- S-O-O-S O-H H-O-E-S.”

“Jeepers!” Ben said. “He
must
have been crazy. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s just the way it sounded to me,” said Djuna. “It might mean almost anything. Say! Has Waterbury come back?”

“Not yet,” Ben said.

Djuna didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. He was deep in thought as he stared down at Champ. Champ stared back at him for a moment, but got embarrassed and looked the other way, Djuna sighed.

“Gee!” he said. “I wish I had a quarter for every time I’ve wished Champ could talk!”

“Why?” asked Ben.

“Because I’d have an awful lot of quarters,” said Djuna. “I wish he could tell me
why
he barked at that man the way he did.”

“Well, I guess he can’t,” Ben said. “But I guess he can do almost everything but talk.”

“Oh!” Djuna said. “Does your father have a flashlight we can borrow for awhile?”

Ben thought for a moment and then said, doubtfully, “Why, yes. I guess so. Why do you want it?”

“Why, so we can go over in that haunted house and look for Waterbury,” said Djuna. “What did you think?”

“
Oh-o-h!
” Ben said and he gulped. “I’ll go and ask him.”

W
HEN
B
EN CAME
around the house Djuna knew he had been able to get the flashlight because he was snapping it on and off in front of him to see the path.

Dusk was fast giving way to night. A soft, summer wind was sighing through the elms and maples along Carpenter Street. And overhead black clouds were scudding across the moon to herald the coming of rain. A jagged streak of light pierced the sky to the west to be followed by the distant rumble of thunder.

“Jeepers!” Ben said in a voice that wasn’t any too strong. “Do you think we
ought
to go up to that house if it’s going to rain?”

“It will really be better,” Djuna said, “because there won’t be anyone else coming there if it’s raining.”

“But what about Mr. Firkins?” Ben asked as a last protest.

“Well,” Djuna said very seriously, “it was because of Mr. Firkins and that house, and because
we
saw some lights there, that Mr. Furlong lost his job. It isn’t
only
Waterbury. I think Mr. Furlong is one of the nicest men I’ve ever known. And I think if we can find out what’s wrong with that house and tell Mr. Furlong, it will help him to get his job back.”

“You
do?
” Ben said, eagerly. “Gee, I’d do
anything
to help Mr. Furlong get his job back. He’s helped me a lot at the office. I’d prob’ly been fired myself if it hadn’t been for him, a couple of times.”

They moved out on to the street with Champ trotting along beside them on his leash. They went down Carpenter Street until they were almost to 777 and then Djuna stopped to bend down and give Champ his final instructions.

“Listen, Champ,” Djuna said. “I don’t want you to bark at all when we get over in this old house,
unless
you find Waterbury. Do you understand?”

Champ wagged his stubby tail to show that he did. Then he barked three times.

“See how he minds?” Djuna said and he laughed. “Any time I want him to bark I just tell him not to.”

All the houses along Carpenter Street were lighted very cheerily until they came to the great, black gap–like a missing tooth in the hideous face of an ogre–that was 777. They could hear the rusty hinges of the old shutters clattering dismally as the night wind rattled through them and sighed its discontent at having to touch at such a place.

Djuna and Ben stood across the street looking up at the discontented old house just as a streak of lightning split the dark sky with a ghastly smile and thunder cannonaded down upon them until the house itself seemed to moan in protest.

Great drops of rain came beating down through the trees and Champ pulled at his leash in mute appeal as Djuna whispered, “Quick! There’s a cellar window that’s open. I noticed it today. Follow me!”

For a moment they were silhouetted against the street lights as they crossed the street, and then they were swallowed up by the abysmal darkness that was a part of the old house.

Rain was coming down in torrents and the wind was beginning to howl as the three of them darted under the front porch for protection.

“The window is down here,” Djuna whispered. “I’ll go in first and find something for you to climb down on. You can hand Champ to me after I get inside.”

“Okay,” Ben whispered back in what was far from an enthusiastic, or even happy voice.

Djuna stuck the flashlight through the window and saw that the window entered a tiny cellar room, hardly bigger than a closet, that must have been a place for storing vegetables and canned goods. The walls were lined with empty shelves that were thickly covered with dust. He turned off his flashlight and put it in his pocket. Then he slid over the window sill feet first and eased himself down along the wall until he was hanging by his finger tips. He breathed deeply and dropped the several feet to the floor.

He stood there listening for a moment, but only the roar of the storm outside came to his ears.

“Are you all right?” he heard Ben say breathlessly from above him.

“Yes,” Djuna said. “Wait a minute and I’ll find a box or something to stand on so you can hand Champ to me.”

He flooded the little closet with light and stuck the flashlight out in front of him as he went out into the main part of the cellar. Cobwebs and dust and broken pieces of furniture and broken boxes were everywhere, but nothing large enough for him to stand on.

A moment later he found a sturdy box behind what had once been a furnace and hurried back to the window with it. He fixed it on the ground so that it didn’t wobble and, climbing on it, found that his chin just reached to the bottom of the window.

“Oh, Ben,” he whispered.

No one answered him.

“Oh,
Ben!
” he said a little louder.

“Just a minute!” Ben whispered back. “Champ is pulling at his leash and growling at something. Maybe it’s Waterbury!”

“Not if he doesn’t bark,” Djuna whispered back. “You better hand him to me.”

“Okay,” Ben said, “
C’mon
, Champ!”

Djuna felt Champ’s wet tongue against his face and reached for him and carefully lifted him inside and they both climbed down to the cellar floor. As Champ started to investigate the lower shelves Djuna turned the search-light upward to ring Ben’s face in the cellar window. Ben did not look as though he was overjoyed at the prospect of joining Djuna and Champ.

“C’mon,” Djuna said in a low voice. “Slide your feet down the wall until they reach the box. I’ll steady it.”

“Don’t–don’t you think we better have an
outside
lookout?” asked Ben. “I could whistle if anyone comes.”

“
No!
” said Djuna. “It’s a
big
house. If we both look it won’t take so long.”

A moment later Ben’s reluctant feet appeared on the window sill, followed by Ben’s legs. Djuna guided them downward and steadied the box until Ben was standing beside him. They both stood there for a moment listening intently while Champ stuck his inquiring nose around the door and peered into the blackness ahead.

“I’ll go first with the flashlight,” Djuna said. “You take Champ’s leash.”

“All right,” said Ben. But his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat as he gulped.

Djuna moved out into the dim expanse of the main cellar, and this time the cobwebs that were festooned from the old beams seemed to take on strange shapes as they swayed back and forth in the faint breeze from the open window.

“Did you hear anyone upstairs?” Ben whispered as Djuna played the flashlight around looking for the stairs.

“No,” Djuna whispered back. “I don’t think there is
anybody
here.”

“I–I hope not!” Ben said as the flashlight picked out the stairs crawling upward along the back wall.

Just as Djuna put his foot on the first of the rickety old steps Champ let forth a series of sharp barks that brought both the boys standing straight up, as rigid as ramrods.

“
Stop it
, Champ!” Ben hissed as he held firmly to Champ’s leash. Djuna turned the flashlight down to find Champ dancing back and forth like a shadow boxer as he barked. Both Djuna and Ben giggled with relief as they saw that he was barking at an old rag that dangled inside a broken box.

When Champ saw what he was barking at he gave one last indignant bark at the rag and turned his nose upward. His long nose and whiskers and the shaggy hair around his eyes and his ears were covered with grey cobwebs that gave him the appearance of wearing a mask with a long beard below it.

“Gee!
Look
at him!” Ben snickered and they both laughed, silently, until Champ became embarrassed and wiggled in protest.

“If you’d keep your nose out of things you wouldn’t look so foolish,” Djuna whispered, fiercely. “Now,
be quiet!
” Champ tried to shake some of the cobwebs off his nose, and at the same time shrugged his shoulders as though to say, “Well, this was your idea!”

The old steps whined and groaned their dissent as the two boys and Champ crept up them slowly lest they collapse. Cobwebs that had grown heavy with dust unexpectedly flecked their faces and hair as though the long arms of the shadows were reaching out to touch them with their bony fingers.

The door at the top of the stairs stuck until Djuna put his weight against it. Then it swung outward with a scream of protest from its hinges. Djuna fell inward on the floor. The flashlight slipped out of his hand, clattered on the floor and went out, leaving them in very dark darkness.

“
Jeepers!
” Ben hissed. “
What’s
the matter?”

“Nothing,” said Djuna. “I just slipped. Wait a minute.” He began crawling around on his hands and knees until he found the flashlight and turned it on Ben and Champ. They were both peering over the top step with eyes that were large and round.

“C’mon,” Djuna said. “There’s nobody here at all unless they’re upstairs asleep.”

He flashed the light around the room in which they were standing and found they were in what had been the kitchen. There was nothing in it except a broken chair, a rusty old coal range, and a few empty cans on a shelf. It was more than a little evident that no one had used the kitchen for years.

They moved into the next room on tiptoe and the only thing there was something covered with an old window shade in a corner. The garland of cobwebs that stretched from the old gas chandelier to the boarded-up fireplace took on fantastic shapes and seemed to dance eerily in the light Djuna turned on it.

“What–what do you suppose is under that window shade over there?” Ben asked in a hushed voice as he kept an eye on the dancing shadows.

“Just rubbish, prob’ly,” Djuna said as he moved toward it with misgivings. He lifted a corner of the window shade and threw it back quickly to expose a pile of broken odds and ends that had been long since swept there. “Just junk,” he said with relief as he stirred the pile with his toe.

Cautiously, they went on into the deep emptiness of the big front room where they had first seen a light two nights before, and into the hallway where the little girl with the lantern had stood as she talked to Djuna. There was not the faintest sign that anyone had lived in the house for years.

They went on into the two large rooms on the other side of the hallway and stared into them. Only the shadows stared back at them. Here and there they could see the imprint of footsteps in the heavy dust that lay on the floor and most of the footsteps seemed to lead to the bottom of the stairs in the hallway that led to the second floor.