The Green Turtle Mystery (16 page)

“Yes,” Djuna said, thoughtfully. “He always does that.
Come on
, Champ!”

They all started down Carpenter Street and Djuna was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear Ben ask him if he had seen Mr. Furlong that day.

“
Say!
” Ben finally said. “Are you sound asleep again, or what?”

“Oh, excuse me!” Djuna said. “I–I was thinking about something. What did you say?”

“I asked you if you had seen Mr. Furlong today to give him his shines,” Ben said and he laughed at the idea.

“Yes,” Djuna said. “I gave him his shines this morning. And this afternoon where do you suppose he took me?”

“To a ball game!” said Ben.

“No, sir!” Djuna said. “He took me up to the Mint to see that Secret Service man, Mr. MacHatchet.”

“
A Secret Service man!
” said Ben, wide-eyed. “Jeepers! I didn’t know he belonged to that!”

“He’s a good friend of Mr. Furlong’s,” said Djuna. “He showed me one of those counterfeit ten-dollar bills that some gang is making and he told me how they make them.”

“
He did?
” Ben said. “Jeepers, I always miss
everything!
”

Djuna told Ben as much as he could remember of what Mr. MacHatchet had told him, as they walked along, and while Champ got his news of the day from the posts, trees, fire hydrants and fences that were his daily newspaper.

“After that the note-plate is bitten in the usual manner,” Djuna finished up, just like Mr. MacHatchet had said.

“
Bitten!
” said Ben, just as Djuna had. “What does that mean?”

Before Djuna had time to say a word, Ben said, “Gee, you should have heard what I heard a couple of kids talking about this morning. Mr. Canavan sent me out on an errand, and gave me carfare, and these two kids–little kids–were sitting in the seat just ahead of me. They were talking about counterfeit money!”

“They were?” exclaimed Djuna. “What did they say?”

“Well, one of them said you can always tell when a piece of money is counterfeit. All you have to do is bite it.”

“Oh, coins?” said Djuna. “How do they tell if they bite it?”

“Well, if it’s good money, your teeth won’t make marks on it,” said Ben. “But if it’s counterfeit, your teeth show.”

“I suppose they would,” Djuna agreed.

“Yes, but that’s not what the other little kid said,” Ben went on. “What
he
said was, ‘Well, suppose a dog or a wolf bit it? Wouldn’t their teeth show?’ And the first kid said, ‘Why, of course, they’d show.’ And then the littlest kid looked as if he didn’t understand at all, and he said, ‘Well, then, what would a dog care, whether his teeth showed or not?’ Can you imagine?”

Ben and Djuna both laughed and they were silent for a time while they walked along. It was getting on toward dusk as they agreed without saying anything that it was time to turn back, and they turned around and headed back toward Ben’s.

They were almost back to Ben’s house when Djuna startled Ben by saying, “It’s clouding up again, so it will be good and dark over in that house tonight.”

“Over in
what
house?” Ben asked and from the expression on his face anyone would have suspected that he already knew what house Djuna was talking about.

“That haunted house,” said Djuna. “What’d you think?”

“
I’m not going in that house again!
” Ben said, and no one could have doubted that he meant just what he said.

“No,” said Djuna. “You’ve got to watch outside. I’m going in alone.”

“You
are!
” Ben said. “Gosh! You must
like
ghosts! What are you going to do that for?”

“Well, for one thing I told Maria I’d try to get her parrot for her,” said Djuna. “So, I guess I’ve
got
to go in there if I’m going to keep my word.”

“Oh boy!” Ben said. “I wouldn’t go in there for–for ten hundred parrots. What do you want me to do outside?”

“I want you to act like Paul Revere,” Djuna said and he giggled.

“Oh,” Ben said, but he looked awful puzzled.

“‘One if by land, and two if by sea,’” Djuna quoted and he was still giggling.

“Gee! I don’t know
what
you’re talking about,” Ben said.

“Oh, you remember how they hung lanterns in the Old North Church when the British were coming,” Djuna said.

“Sure!” Ben said. “But what have the British got to do with this? Are you going to hang out some lanterns?”

“No,” said Djuna. “When we get up to Papa Sanchez’ bakery we’ll stop in and get Maria. She can wait across the street with you when I go in the house. Then, if I come out
with
the parrot we can just give it to Maria, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Well,
why
do we have to take her up there?” Ben asked and he was still obviously puzzled. “Why can’t we just take the parrot to her?”

“So she can chase the parrot in case I
don’t
come out with it,” Djuna said. “I–”

“But how can she get it if you
don’t
come out with it?” Ben wanted to know.

“If you’ll wait a minute I’ll tell you,” Djuna said, calmly enough, although he was far from calm inside. “If I
don’t
come out with it under my arm it will probably fly out a window from the top floor. You and Maria keep awful close watch to see if it does fly out. If it does you have Maria follow it so she can catch it and take it back home.”

“Shall I help her?” Ben asked.

“
No!
” said Djuna. “If the parrot flies out a window, and I
don’t
come out, you run up to Mr. Furlong’s boarding house
just as fast
as you can run and tell Mr. Furlong I’m
in
that house and tell him to call up Mr. MacHatchet and get him to come and get me
just as fast as they can
. Mr. Furlong and Mr. MacHatchet will both be home, and they’ll know what you mean.”

“Jeepers!” Ben said. “Do you know
what
you’re doing?”

“Well,” Djuna said. “I don’t know
what
else to do.” He was silent for a moment while Ben regarded him from the corners of his eyes with something that was close to awe.

“
Say!
” Djuna said, suddenly. “Did you write anything in your Almanac for yesterday?”

“Yes,” Ben said. “Just one thing. I’m doing it just a little at a time so I won’t spoil it.”

“Gee! Let’s stop under this street light so I can see it,” Djuna said.

They stopped and Ben reached in his hip pocket and pulled out his notebook and turned to a page he had marked with a large III. After it was scrawled: “
Wednesday. When fishing for whales, do not use a bent pin
.”

Djuna stared at the entry for several moments. When he looked up at Ben he gulped and Ben could see that he was worried and a little frightened.

“
What’s the matter?
” Ben asked in a whisper.

“Jeepers!” said Djuna. “That’s the same kind of thing Mr. Furlong told me today. He recited a poem about ‘
little boats should keep near shore
.’ Maybe it’s a warning to me. But
you
didn’t know what I was going to do when you wrote that!”

“Gosh!” Ben said. “I don’t know
what
you’re going to do now. And I–I guess I don’t
want
to know.”

“Well,” Djuna said, mysteriously, “
I’m
going fishing for
whales
and all I’ve
got
is a bent pin. Maybe I’d better call up Mr. Furlong to be
sure
he’s going to be home.”

“Honest, Djuna, I don’t see how you
dare
go in that house again,” said Ben. Which was just what Djuna needed to make him
determined
to go in the house. “Here’s Chestnut Street, if we’re going to get Maria.”

Papa Sanchez and Maria were just about to close the bakery for the evening when Djuna and Ben arrived. Djuna explained that he was going in the house to try to get her parrot and asked Maria to come along and wait across the street while he got it. He didn’t explain that it might fly out a window because he wasn’t sure how things were going to be himself. He decided to leave that to Ben.

“Sure!” said Papa Sanchez to Maria. “You go ’long with your leetle frien’s an’ I-a wait-a here ’til you come back.”

True to Djuna’s prediction the sky had clouded over as they went up Carpenter Street. But Maria didn’t seem to notice it because she was jabbering so fast that Ben and Djuna could hardly keep up with what she was saying. Champ didn’t even try.

When they came to Ben’s house, Ben went inside, at Djuna’s request, to get his father’s flashlight again. Djuna flashed it several times to be sure that it was working all right and Maria said, “Aren’t you
afraid
to go in that house all alone?”

Djuna astonished her by replying, frankly, “
Yes
. But sometimes you
have
to do things you don’t like to do.”

“Oh,” Maria said and she regarded Djuna with a new respect.

They went slowly up Carpenter Street until they came to 777. As they stopped across the street the clouds overhead ran away from the moon to silhouette the menacing old house clearly against the night sky.

“You’ll be able to see better if it stays clear,” Djuna said in a low voice as he looked up at the sky, adding, “I think it’s going to.”

“Oh, jeepers!” Ben whispered. “Do you want me to go with you and hold the light while you get down into the cellar?”

“No,” said Djuna. “I can see all right. So long.” He leaned down and squeezed Champ against his leg without saying anything. Then he started across the street.

“Good–good-by!” Maria said in a quavering voice.

Ben didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He just stared as Djuna’s retreating form melted into the shadows that clutched him, and became lost in them. He disappeared so completely that the old house seemed to have swallowed him.

Djuna tried, as hard as he could, to throw out all of the thoughts that threatened him as he slid his feet over the sill of the cellar window and eased them downward to grope for the box they had left there the night before. When his chin came to the bottom of the window he kicked his dangling feet around because he remembered that they should now have reached the box. He couldn’t find it, so he let himself down a few more inches and searched for it with his feet. When he couldn’t find it this time he pulled himself up so that he could support himself on one elbow while he pulled his flashlight out of his pocket. He snapped it on and flashed the light downward.

The box was gone!

How long he hung there staring at the spot where the box had been, and into the dark recesses of the cellar beyond, Djuna didn’t know. But he
knew
that
someone
had been in the house since the previous night, and that they might be waiting for him now! They had even left the window open as an invitation for him to walk into their trap!

He hung there torn between the fear of what lay ahead and retreat. It seemed like all eternity. Then resolutely he snapped out the flashlight, put it back in his pocket, lowered himself his full length against the cold, damp stones of the cellar wall, and dropped.

He snapped on his light again as fast as he could get it and stood with his back against the wall while he played it out into the main cellar and wished, fervently, that his heart would stop beating so very hard.

After a few moments he moved slowly out into the dim expanse of the cellar with only the fantastic shapes of the swaying cobwebs to keep him company. Again the rickety steps whined and groaned their protest as he crept up them. The door upstairs swung open easily this time, almost as though
someone
had oiled its hinges!

Djuna followed his flashlight, treading as noiselessly as he could manage as he circled the first floor of the eerie old house. When he came to the bottom of the stairs in the hallway for the second time he peered up into the blackness above, and something seemed to warn him of some unknown danger ahead. He wished, as he had never wished before in all his life, that he had brought Champ with him. Then he started to mount the dusty, creaking stairs.

He had just reached the top step when that same unearthly laugh that had greeted them the night before came out of the blackness ahead. Only this time it seemed farther away and muffled, as though
someone
might be trying to choke the parrot while it laughed!

As the sound died away in a stifled sob, Djuna stole into the first bedroom. And now he held the flashlight with his whole hand wrapped securely around it so that he could use it as a club if the need arose. He tiptoed through all of the upstairs bedrooms and did not see or hear the parrot again until he was in the back hallway.

He snapped off his light and stood listening in the dark when the ghastly laugh came again, and this time Djuna
knew
it came from the room
at the top of the stairs
off the back hallway!

With his heart beating a crescendo of violent protest he stole across the hallway and flashed his light up the stairs. Tonight the door at the top was
open
, but no sound came from the dark interior of the room except the grumbled mutterings of the green parrot!

Relief flooded Djuna as though someone had cut away ropes that actually bound him as it came to him that the things he had expected to find in the old house were not there. That now all he had to do was go up and
get
the parrot and take it out to Maria and his job was done.

He ran up the steps lightly, playing his flashlight in front of him and wondering, with a little giggle, if it was going to be hard work to catch the parrot after he had closed the door.

When he got to the top step he stopped and started to play the rays of his light across the room to find the parrot.

At just that instant a hand that was smeared with something that glistened red in the light shot out from behind the wall to his right and fastened itself on his throat!

Djuna started to cry out in horror but no sound came because of the grip of iron on his throat. He tried to struggle frantically as another hand snatched his flashlight out of his hand, yanked him forward and a foot kicked the door shut behind him.