[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman (24 page)

The old ship's carpenter's voice shook with excitement. “Ben lad, those are the very words written on the two bits o' paper
I
glued together. Here, look, I've got it with me!” He took the repaired paper from his back pocket and read out the lines triumphantly:

“Word for word, the same! Well, sink me!”

Ben found himself laughing at his friend's delight. “Don't sink just yet, mate. Let's take a look at them together—the writing seems the same. E.D.W. Ah, Edmund De Winn!”

Alex made a very sensible suggestion. “Your thin paper is almost like tracing paper, Jon. Why don't you lay it on top of the map and see if the writing matches up?”

Jon passed the thin paper to Amy. “My hand's beginning to shake with excitement, you do it.”

Brushing her dark hair aside, the girl placed the map flat on the table. With careful precision, she laid the thin paper on top, nudging it gently until the two lines of writing were exactly on top of each other.

“It matches almost perfectly, every dot and loop of Edmund De Winn's writing. Top and bottom, line for line!”

Alex placed his thumbs at the far side of both papers. “I'll hold them steady, anybody got a pencil?”

Being a carpenter, Jon invariably had a well-sharpened pencil stub behind his ear, which he produced. He winked at the boy. “Aha! I see your plan, shipmate. You want me to mark the map through the four holes in the tissue paper. Hold her steady, now.”

As the old seaman painstakingly marked the map through the four holes in the thin paper, Ben caught a thought from the Labrador.

“Look at Winnie. There's a picture of hope, you can see she really believes things are starting to happen.”

Ben returned the thought. “Aye, and it's not just her. Look at Will and Ma. Look at us all. I'm glad the angel sent us here, pal. Smithers and his London gang don't know it yet, but I think they'll find these folk aren't too easy to ride roughshod over anymore.”

Will removed the thin paper from its position. They gathered around the table to view the pencil-dotted map as he tapped a finger on the first mark he recognized. “Look 'ere, this is our farm, an' the well, too! Haha, we've already solved one bit o' the puzzle, right, friends? Which is the next 'un? Come on, young feller. I'm beginnin' to like this!”

His ma clapped her hands together and rubbed them gleefully. “Me, too. Never thought I'd be part of a treasure hunt!”

Alex tapped the flat stick against his hand, staring at the map. “Hmm, we've solved the first saint's problem: that's Luke. So let's write Luke over the dot where this farmhouse is.”

Jon nodded in admiration. “Well said, lad! So that leaves Matthew, Mark, an' John. I think they'll be in a clockwise position, stands to reason, don't it?”

The astute old lady's eyes twinkled as she took the pencil, licking the point briefly. “ ‘Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the Bed that I Lie On.' Clockwise, eh, then this is the way it should go.” She wrote lightly above the other three dots thus:

They went back to pondering the problem. Will stood silent, his arms folded, when suddenly his voice cut the silence.

“St. John, that's the next one we should look at if we're goin' clockwise. Though I'm just thinkin', that next mark is right where the railway station stands now.”

His wife peered closely at the mark belonging to St. John. “When I went t' school ole Mr. Braithwaite told us that's about where the blacksmith once 'ad his stables.”

Now the meaning of the marks upon the stick dawned upon Ben. He took the flat piece of wood from Alex. “Of course! Two horses and lots of letter
U
s, I'll bet the
U
s are meant to be horseshoes!”

Mrs. Winn squeezed Ben's hand. “Marvelous, I wish I was as quick-thinking as you! But I've just had an awful thought. Supposing they built the railway station right over the stables, what then?”

Eileen frowned. “Let's hope not. Don't you go frettin' just yet, m'dear. We'll go an' see Mr. Braithwaite, he'll know if anybody does!”

The old lady sighed. “You're right, we'll just have to wait and see. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Eileen, you, too, Sarah. Oh dear, it's getting late, we'd best get back home.”

Mrs. Winn had the chalice wrapped in a clean teacloth that she intended leaving with Mr. Mackay the lawyer, for safekeeping. They all climbed into the cart, and Will delivered them to their homes.

Ben had already laid his plans for the midnight encounter with Wilf Smithers. As Will was helping Mrs. Winn from the gig, Ben winked at Amy, Alex, and Jon, his voice dropping to a whisper. “See you later.”

It was still only ten o'clock when Ben assisted Mrs. Winn to her room. She thanked him. “What an exciting evening, Ben, let's hope there's good news for us in the morning. Don't stay up too late, now, and lock up before you go to bed. Oh dear, I'm exhausted!”

BEN SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, THE big, black Lab at his feet, each immersed in his own thoughts. Horatio sat with his tail curled about both front paws, watching a moth beating against the outer windowpane, trying vainly to reach the lamplight. It had been ten minutes since the hall clock chimed half past eleven.

Ben blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Come on, Ned, time to go.” He took the kitchen key from its hook and quietly opened the door to the rear of the house.

Horatio followed them out, purring. The big Labrador passed the cat a thought. “You can't come with us.”

The cat replied mentally. “Prrrr, 'Ratio go catch butterflies.”

The big moth that had been beating itself against the window flew into the kitchen and began circling the lamp. The dog turned the cat around with a sweep of his paw, commenting, “Look, there's a moth, they're fatter than butterflies, go and catch him. Bet you can't!”

Horatio curled his tail disdainfully. “Miaow, 'Ratio catch butterflies, prrrr, mop be easier to catch, you watch!” He ran back indoors. Leaping on the table, he began dabbing his paw at the moth. “Rrrowwrrr, soon catch mopfly!”

The big dog nodded. “That's the stuff, Horatio. You catch the mopfly and have a midnight snack. See you later. Hmph, mopfly indeed—you'll soon have me as dotty as y'self!”

Ben locked the kitchen door, staring curiously at his friend. “What was all that about?”

Ned passed him a despairing glance. “Mopflies. You wouldn't understand. Come on, our friends'll be waiting.”

 

 

Amid the dark night shadows Wilf Smithers and his gang stood in the alley alongside Evans Tea Shoppe.

Regina took out a fob watch, which she had received for her birthday, and consulted it. “Nearly ten minutes to midnight, he should be here by now.”

A thin, nervous-looking boy named Archie gnawed his thumbnail. “I don't think he's comin', hadn't we better go home? My mum and dad don't know I sneaked out.”

Wilf grabbed him by the earlobe, tugging him up onto his toes. “Scared stiff, that's your trouble, Archie. Well go on, then, run back home quick. But you won't be in this gang anymore if you do!”

Tommo pulled a face at Archie. “Beat it back home. Who needs you, you skinny little worm!”

Wilf let go of Archie and turned his contempt on the fat boy. “Who asked you, puddenface, you look twice as scared as he does!”

“Oh, I don't know, he probably looks about one and a half times as scared as poor Archie, right, Tommo?”

Wilf almost jumped with fright as the blue-eyed boy emerged from the shadows. He recovered himself quickly and snarled. “How did you get here?”

As the black Lab and Amy and Alex materialized out of the darkness, Ben smiled. “Same way you did, of course. How's the hand, still sore?”

Wilf smiled thinly back at his foe. “Forget my hand. You're here because you cheated me at that fight. But you won't dodge your way out of this one. I'll bet that you're a sniveling coward, and too scared to take a dare, aren't you?”

Ben shrugged. “Why should I take a dare?”

Regina called out scornfully from behind Wilf. “ 'Cos if you don't, then we'll all know you're a coward!”

Alex answered her, “Ben's no coward!”

She sneered at him. “Oh shuttup, Alexandra!”

Amy blazed at the bigger girl. “And you shuttup, you great bully!”

Ben placed himself between them. “No need for all this name-calling. I'll take your dare, Wilf, providing it's not something stupid, like jumping off the church roof and landing on my head, or punching the school wall with my bare hand.”

There were one or two sniggers from the gang. Wilf silenced them with a glare before turning back. “It's nothing like that. There's nothing daft about this dare, so, will you take it?”

Ben flicked the hair from his eyes. “Go on then, what is it?”

Wilf took the fob watch from Regina and glanced at it. “Two minutes to go. Right on the stroke of midnight, you will go into the almshouse where the Mad Professor lives. Alone. We'll wait outside to see that you do. Well, will you do it?” The boy appeared to hesitate and backed off slightly.

Wilf grinned wolfishly. “Hah, you're scared!”

Ben sounded unsure of himself. “No I'm not, I, er, I just have my reasons for not wanting to go into the almshouse.”

Regina pointed her finger at him. “Coward! Coward!”

Alex placed himself in front of his friend. He looked pale and his knees were shaking as he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. “Leave him alone, Ben's already proved he's no coward. I'll take the dare from him, I'll do it.”

Wilf stared at him scornfully. “You? Hahaha, I can hear your knees knocking like clappers. D'you mean to tell me you're taking a dare to go into that place?”

The young boy clenched his fists until the knuckles showed white. He swallowed hard and nodded his head.

Wilf curled both hands, like claws, advancing on Alex, eyes wide, his voice in a mock horrified tone. “Who knows what you'll find inside that old almshouse, little boy. Spiders, cobwebs, rats, ancient ghosts . . . and the madman!”

A few of the gang giggled and shuddered with nervous anticipation. Somebody even gave a hollow ghostly whoop. Wilf silenced them with a glare before turning back to his victim.

“Ah yes, the great, bearded madman. He's got a big shotgun, you know. But I don't suppose he'd use it on a little shrimp like you. Oh no, I'll bet he's got butcher's knives and hooks and a hangman's noose, all ready for young boys called Alex who come knocking on his door at midnight, when it's pitch dark!”

Ben grasped his friend's arm, there was a note of frightened pleading in his voice. “Don't do it, Alex, he dared me. . . . I'll go!”

But Wilf had different ideas, he pulled the towheaded lad away from his young companion. The bully was enjoying tormenting Alex. “Oh, no you don't, you've already proved yourself a coward by refusing the dare. I'm going to let him go and get murdered. He wants to take on your dare, don't you, Alexandra?”

Amy was about to stand up in her brother's defense, when Ben warned her off with a glance and Alex replied.

“I'll go. But if I do, are you willing to take on a dare in return? That's fair enough, isn't it? Dare for dare?”

A ready murmur of agreement came from the gang: It sounded good enough to them. Wilf was their leader, he was a big, strong lad, nobody had ever questioned his courage.

Wilf realized he would lose face if he refused in front of his own gang. Fancy backing down from a mousy little runt like Alex Somers! Wilf sneered. “All right then, but like your pal said, provided it's nothing stupid, I'll take your dare. What is it, jellylegs?”