The Mystery on Cobbett's Island (3 page)

Jim expressed what everyone had been secretly thinking when he said, “Gosh, I'm glad it's a big boat. I was afraid it might be a kind of oversized raft, like they use to get across the Connecticut River up near Old Lyme.”

“I'll bet this would hold close to fifteen cars,” added Brian, “but it looks as though we were the only rash souls out today.”

As they drove on board, the ferryman suggested that they stop near the middle of the boat so the salt spray wouldn't drench the car. When he came back to take the fare, he said, “I reckon this will be the last trip we'll make until after the storm. The tides are gettin' pretty high and we won't be able to get into the slip. You folks are sure lucky you got here when you did. I see from your license plates that you ain't from around here. Down for the summer?”

“No, only for a week or so,” answered Miss Trask. “We're staying at a house called The Moorings. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, yes,” he replied as he took a long drag on his pipe, which the wind and rain seemed unable to extinguish. “That's the old Condon place. No one lives there in the winter, but it's rented every summer. One of the purtiest spots on the island—that is, it is on a clear day. Don't look like we'll get a clearing for some time to come, what with this east wind blowin' and all.” He looked up into the sky where the gulls, buffeted about by the winds, were screaming their defiance of the elements. “Jest follow the road from the ferry on through town till
you come to the Town Hall, turn right there and follow Shore Road fer about a quarter mile. The Moorings is a big white house. You'll see the sign out front.”

“The sea isn't always this rough, is it?” Trixie asked him as the ferry, now underway, was repeatedly lifted by the waves and let down with a dull
thonk
, and the spray beat over the front of the boat.

“Land sakes, no. Usually the bay's as calm as a bathtub, with fair winds for sailing, but every once in a while we get one of these danged nor'easters, and then you've got to batten down the hatches and ride it out.” Bent almost double against the wind, he walked away to prepare for the docking.

The pilot, who sat in a little tower high above the deck, slowed the boat almost to a standstill as it approached the dock, and then skillfully let the wind and the tide carry it between the high pilings. As it hit the side of the slip, he stepped up the engine just enough to take the boat close to the ramp where it was soon secured by heavy lines.

If anything, the wind was blowing harder than ever, and as Miss Trask drove off the ferry and up the street, they saw that several trees had been blown down, and at one point heavy wires were trailing over the ground and a crew of men was working to get them off the road. “I'll bet we don't have any lights tonight by the looks of those wires,” remarked Brian.

“Never bet on a sure thing,” Mart replied. “We'll be lucky to have a roof over our heads. Wow, I've never seen anything like this in my life!”

“There's the Town Hall, I think,” cried Trixie, who had her nose pressed against the window, “and there's a street off to the right. I can't make out the name, but I'm sure it's the right one, because I can see water from here and the man said it was called Shore Road.”

“You're sure right. You can see the water from here,” yelled Jim. “It's right across the road up ahead! Can we get through?” He leaned closer to the window.

“I'll get out and wade in to see how deep it is,” volunteered Mart, taking off his sneakers and rolling up the legs of his jeans as the car came slowly to a stop. It proved to be fairly shallow, but every gust of wind was driving more water over the road, so he hurried back, wet to the skin and breathless from the wind.

“It's a good thing you rolled up your jeans,” said Brian with good-natured sarcasm. “You might have gotten them wet otherwise.”

“The secret of my highly successful life is that I always think ahead.” Mart laughed, shaking the water from his hair and face.

Miss Trask drove slowly through the water so it wouldn't splash up into the motor, and presently, ahead, they saw a big white house with wide wings on either side of the main part of the building.

“That must be The Moorings,” Trixie said. “Yes, I can just make out the sign on the fence,” she added as they came nearer.

Miss Trask drove gingerly into the driveway and under an old-fashioned porte-cochere which gave them some protection from the storm. A toot on the horn brought Tom in a black raincoat, followed closely by Celia. Their worried expressions changed to smiles when they saw that all the Bob-Whites and Miss Trask were safe.

“What happened to
you?
” Tom asked Mart as he noticed his soaked clothes.

“Oh, I swam across. I didn't trust that ferry!”

Everyone was full of high spirits after the tension of the trip, and when the luggage was brought in, Trixie said, “Honey, I'm dying to see the whole house, and Mart, you ought to get into some dry clothes. Come on, everybody, let's explore.”

Celia led the way from the entrance hall, upstairs, and showed them the rooms they were to occupy. The girls were in a suite of two large rooms with a pink-tiled
bath between. Each of the rooms had twin beds covered with candy-striped spreads, thick cream-colored rugs, and attractively painted desks and dressers. Flowered chintz curtains hung at the big bay windows which looked out over the water.

“We'll have to draw lots to see who sleeps where,” said Trixie.

“Or we could play round robin and sleep in a different bed each night,” Di suggested.

The boys went on to explore the large room on the third floor where they were to sleep. It had a distinctly nautical atmosphere, for the windows, instead of being rectangular, were round like portholes. At the foot of each cot was an old sea chest with rope handles at each end, and the name of the original owner painted on the front. The beds were covered with practical gray spreads decorated with large blue anchors, and instead of rugs, there were mats of woven rope. On the white walls were pictures of sailboats. Jim noticed a brass wind gauge just outside that was registering gale force winds.

“Gee, this is great,” said Brian, throwing himself down on one of the cots. “Those rooms the girls have look like the Waldorf-Astorbilt. This looks like a place to be lived in.”

He was interrupted by Jim who suddenly asked, “Say, do you hear someone calling?” As they listened they could hear through the roar of the wind what sounded like someone calling for help. The three boys ran to the windows, but could see no one, so they raced downstairs, calling out to the girls as they dashed past their rooms. They ran out through the front door, led by Jim. The girls followed.

“Trix, you and Di and Mart go around the back of the house, and the rest of us will go the other way, and see if we can find who was calling,” said Jim when they all got out on the porch.

“Okay, and if anyone needs help just whistle,” Trixie said as they all dashed off through the rain.

The Moorings was set in the middle of a large piece of land, fronting on the bay which was just across the road. On either side of the house were well-kept lawns, now strewn with branches and leaves that had been torn from the trees by the wind. Flowering shrubs and shade trees had been planted along the side of the house and near the high brick walls which surrounded the property. With Trixie in the lead, Mart and Di turned the corner of the house and heard the cries more clearly. Rounding a large bush, they saw a man lying in the grass.

“Oh, you poor thing!” cried Trixie as she knelt down beside the stranger. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” she asked, for it was obvious that he was in pain.

“It's my leg. I'd just finished fastening a loose shutter up on the second floor when the wind caught me and the ladder, and the next thing I knew I was down here. I'm afraid it's broken, because every time I try to get up or move it hurts like the very dev—Pardon me, young people, I mean like the very blazes!” Despite his pain, he managed to smile up at Di and Mart who were now anxiously bending over him. When Trixie realized the emergency, she gave a shrill Bob-White whistle which brought the other three running from the other side of the house.

“It's his leg, Brian,” Trixie said hurriedly. “It may be broken.”

Brian, whose ambition was to become a doctor, quickly sized up the situation and took charge, asking Diana to run back to the house for blankets. “We'll need them to cover Mr.—What
is
your name, by the way?” he asked with a reassuring smile as he knelt down beside Trixie.

“Elmer Thomas, son,” the man replied, “but everyone around here calls me El. I'm the caretaker. That is, I
was
the caretaker until a few minutes ago. I guess I won't be much good for a while now.” He winced in pain and Brian noticed that his face was unnaturally pale.

“Don't you worry, El,” said Trixie warmly. “We'll
see that everything is taken care of as long as we're here. We're staying at The Moorings for a while with Honey Wheeler.”

“That's real good of you. I appreciate it,” El said, trying to raise himself on his elbows.

“Now you just lie back, El, and we'll have you fixed up in no time,” said Jim.

Di was already in the house before Brian had had a chance to tell her to get a doctor, so he asked Mart to go and telephone for one. “There
is
a doctor on the island, isn't there?” he asked El.

“There sure is, and a good one, too,” El answered. “Dr. Holmes has been here for years, but it won't do any good to call. The phone's been out of order since noontime. I tried calling my wife to tell her I wasn't coming home until I got everything secured around here, but the line was dead.”

“Gosh,” said Trixie, “in that case, we'd better send Tom for Dr. Holmes. Mart, you go tell him, and ask Celia to have the cook make some good, strong coffee.”

Turning her attention to El again, she heard Brian say, “Now the first thing to do is to get you into the house and out of this awful weather, but we'll have to be careful how we move that leg so there won't be any more damage.”

Di came running back with the blankets and a big umbrella which she held over El's head and shoulders while Trixie and Honey carefully covered him. While they were working, Brian asked Mart and Jim to see if they could find something to use as a stretcher. After they had gone, he very gently examined El's leg to see if he could locate the break. Just below the knee he felt a place where the shin bone was bent in an unnatural way, and El gave a cry of pain.

“It's not a compound fracture, thank goodness,” said Brian, wiping the rain from his face.

“What's a compound fracture?” asked Diana, her eyes wide with interest.

“It's when the end of the broken bone gets pushed through the skin,” explained Brian. “Then you run the risk of infection setting in.”

“How come you know so much, young fella?” asked El weakly.

“Oh, he's going to be a doctor,” Honey broke in before Brian had a chance to answer. “And he knows all about first aid and everything about medicine.”

“Well, not everything, I'm afraid.” Brian laughed, obviously pleased by Honey's praise. “But I do read a lot, and last winter I got hold of a book about fractures and how to treat them,” he added.

Just then, Jim and Mart came back with an old door. “We found it in the barn,” Jim explained. “Lucky for us!”

“That's just the thing. But before we move him, we've got to put on a temporary splint, so the broken bone can't wiggle around,” Brian said seriously. “Honey, see if you can find a couple of pieces of wood to use as splints, and some old cloths to tear up to tie them in place.”

“Look in the barn,” suggested El. “There should be some pieces of kindling in there and some clean rags I keep for painting.”

Honey was off like a flash, proud to be able to help out in an emergency. There was a time when she might have fainted dead away when faced with an accident, but she had learned many things, including fortitude, from Trixie and the other Bob-Whites. She was soon back with two pieces of pine board and a handful of cloths. Trixie tore some strips and then helped her brother put padding around El's leg. Then they put on the splints, one on each side, and carefully tied them in place.

“Now, all of you put your hands under El's left side and roll him over onto the other side so we can put the door halfway under him, and then ease him all the way on it,” said Brian.

“No sooner said than done, Dr. Belden,” Jim smiled. “Are you all right, El?”

“It feels some better with the splint on, but the pain's still there for sure,” the caretaker replied. “I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't heard me call.”

They lifted the door very carefully, and keeping near the side of the house where there was a little more protection, they got El on the porch and then into the house.