Where had he seen a necklace like that before?
Shad was fishing at the end of the dock, sitting on an old camp stool. The brown pelican eyed Shad’s bait in a plastic fish-market bucket.
Jessie realized the bucket was just like the one their clams had come in. Was it the same bucket? Was it Shad who took the plate of food she’d put out last night?
“Mornin’,” he greeted them.
“Hi,” said Henry. “Catch anything yet?”
“A few minnows,” Shad replied. “Threw ’em back. What are y’all doing up so early?”
“We were walking on the beach,” said Violet.
Jessie pulled the necklace out of her pocket. “We found this. We wondered if it might be yours.” If the necklace belonged to Shad, then she’d know he had taken the food plate.
Shad shook his head. “Not mine. Nobody I know wears one of those. You know, it’s bad luck to wear them.”
“Really?” Benny’s eyes grew round.
“Well … that’s what I’ve heard.” Suddenly Shad became very interested in checking his line.
Jessie was certain he was making that up, about shark’s teeth being bad luck. But why?
The older man rose. “I just remembered. I have to go home.” Reeling in his line, he picked up his rod and bucket and clumped down the dock.
“That was weird,” said Violet. “He didn’t want to talk to us this time.”
“He’s certainly acting suspicious,” said Henry. “I wonder if he catches all his food. He’s always fishing, either on this dock or on the beach.”
“He must get sick of fish,” said Benny, who didn’t much like fish himself.
Jessie agreed. “He’s kind of thin. I wonder if he’s hungry.” Then she thought, Was Shad so hungry he had to steal food?
At that moment, the kids heard a piercing whistle.
“What’s that?” asked Violet.
“It’s coming from the road,” said Benny. “Let’s check it out.”
They ran down the dock and across the short, cropped grass by the road.
Thomas Hyde was standing in the middle of the two-lane road. He was halting traffic by blowing a whistle and holding up his hands.
When the cars had stopped, several ponies poked their heads through the bayberry bushes.
“Look!” cried Benny. “They’re coming over to our side!”
The horses daintily stepped onto the road and crossed single file. Tourists in their cars clapped at the sight. A few snapped pictures. Violet wished she had brought her own camera.
When the horses were safely on the other side, Officer Hyde dropped his hands and gave a short all-clear blast on his whistle. Traffic moved once more.
The kids watched as the horses nibbled grass on the bank. Officer Hyde joined them.
“Good morning,” he said. “You guys are really lucky. Tourists wait all summer to see the horses away from the sanctuary. Most people never do see them.”
“We’ve seen them three times,” Benny said. “Twice at the sanctuary and now here. Will they be all right?”
“I’ll stay with them,” Officer Hyde said. “Eventually I’ll get them back to the pen. They like to roam. It’s only natural. At one time, the whole island was theirs. Now they have to stay in one little corner of it.”
“Did you find Midnight?” Henry asked.
Officer Hyde shook his head. “But I’ll tell you what I did find. A break in the dune fence on the Sound side. Black hair was snagged on a broken slat.”
“Is Midnight hurt?” asked Violet, concerned.
“He could be,” Officer Hyde replied. “That was obviously where Midnight escaped—or was forced—from the sanctuary. If he’s hurt, he probably needs medical attention.”
The Aldens looked at one another.
Midnight must be found … and fast!
CHAPTER 8
What Shad Knows
“Let’s have our lunch on the deck,” Jessie suggested.
“Good idea.” Henry loaded a tray with egg-salad sandwiches and a plate of carrot and celery sticks.
Violet followed him out the sliding glass doors with a pitcher of limeade.
The children sat down on the deck chairs and began eating.
Jessie was looking at Winifred Gorman’s house. The artist had come out on her own deck. She saw the Alden children and waved.
“Come on over,” she called. “I made brownies.”
Jessie looked at Henry in astonishment. “Did she just invite us over for brownies?”
“You heard right,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Let’s go. It’ll be a good chance to find out more about the pony painting.”
Violet stacked their lunch things on the tray. “I’ll be right out. I want to show something to Winifred.”
She returned moments later with her sketch pad. Then the kids walked over to their neighbor’s house.
Winifred had arranged the chairs around the umbrella table. A plate of vanilla-iced brownies sat in the middle.
“Help yourself,” she said. “If you don’t, I’ll eat them all myself. My waistline can’t afford it!”
Benny was confused. First Winifred was mad at them. She thought they had stolen her apples. Now she was giving them brownies. But Benny couldn’t resist. He took a brownie and tasted it. He never turned down chocolate.
“Mmm,” he pronounced. “Good.”
Winifred smiled. Benny had never seen the woman smile before. Why was she so nice all of a sudden?
“May I show you something?” Violet asked the artist. “It’s a drawing I did.”
“Sure!” Winifred opened Violet’s book and examined the sketch of a bird. “You used one line! Isn’t that a fun technique?”
“Did I do it right?” Violet asked anxiously.
“Art is about expressing oneself,” said Winifred. “There is no right or wrong way.”
“Can you draw like that? Just using one line?” Violet wanted to know.
“Of course.” Winifred reached down by her chair for her own drawing pad. Taking a pencil from her pocket, she flipped to a fresh page. “You can draw people this way, too. Just put your pencil down and start with the eyes—don’t pick up your pencil until you’re done.”
As she talked, she rapidly sketched Violet’s features using a single line. She tore off the page and gave it to Violet.
Violet was thrilled. “That’s wonderful! Thank you.”
As Winifred closed her sketchbook, Henry noticed a drawing of another face. The artist saw him looking and closed the book quickly.
Henry was suspicious. Why had Winifred invited them over? She usually acted like they were a nuisance. The woman must want something from them, but what? Maybe if he learned more about her …
“Are you going to live here all the time?” he asked.
“I have a studio in New York City,” said Winifred. “This summer I came down here on vacation.”
“Like us,” Benny put in.
Winifred smiled. “Well, I took a vacation from my work. People aren’t buying my paintings. I thought a change of scenery would be good for me.”
“And has it been?” asked Jessie.
“I think it has,” the artist replied. “I might sell my studio and live here all the time. It’s very peaceful.”
“Except for the robberies,” Henry brought up.
Winifred frowned. “What robberies?”
“You know, your missing beach towel. And the apples.”
“Oh, those,” Winifred said. “I found the beach towel the other day. As for the apples, no great loss.”
“But you were really upset,” Benny reminded her.
“That’s because I was worried about my work,” she explained. “I know I haven’t been a very nice neighbor, and I’m sorry about that,” she added quietly. “But now I’m painting better than ever. A bowl of missing apples is nothing.”
Jessie was amazed at how Winifred had changed her tune. Every time they had seen the woman, she was gr
ouchy. Now she was nice as pie! What was going on?
At that moment, Benny stood up. “Grandfather’s back,” he said. Then he saw another car pull into the driveway behind their station wagon.
The car had a star painted on the side. It was from the sheriff’s office.
By the time the children ran over to the cottage, two uniformed deputies were sitting in the living room with Grandfather.
“I’m Deputy Knight,” said a tall, dark-haired man with a deep tan. “And this is Deputy Perelli.” His brown-haired companion nodded.
“I’m James Alden,” said Grandfather. “These are my grandchildren, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny. How may we help you?”
Deputy Knight removed a black-and-white photograph from his clipboard and passed it to Grandfather.
“Have you seen this boy? We think he is somewhere in the vicinity,” said the officer.
James Alden studied the photograph, then shook his head before handing it to Henry. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve never seen him.”
The others gathered around Henry. The photograph showed a blond-haired boy around fifteen years old. He was wearing a necklace.
Benny was startled. He was sure he’d seen that boy’s picture before. It was in the newspaper Grandfather had bought their first day. But the boy wasn’t by himself. He was in a group of other boys.
Jessie thought she recognized that face, but she wasn’t sure. It looked like the blond boy she’d seen watching them from the dune yesterday. And the boy she’d spied carrying the Seagull Resort beach chair.
“Who is this boy?” Grandfather asked the deputies.
“His name is Austin Derrick,” Deputy Perelli replied. “He has run away from summer camp on the mainland. We have reason to believe he is hiding on the island.”
Deputy Knight continued the explanation. “Apparently Austin didn’t want to go to this camp. He argued with his parents, but they both had long business trips this summer. Austin went to camp, but left after the first week.”
“Did he call his parents?” Grandfather asked, concerned.
“Yes, he did,” said Deputy Perelli. “He told them he was with a friend. But they checked out his story. The friend he was supposed to be staying with hasn’t seen Austin all summer. So then they called the police. The parents are on their way now. They should be here by this evening.”
“Why do they think he is here?” Grandfather probed.
“Because the boy’s father has an older, distant cousin who lives here,” replied Deputy Knight. “Apparently Austin spent a few summers with the cousin. He was angry when he learned he couldn’t stay with the relative this summer.”
Grandfather nodded sympathetically. “Sounds like the boy is lonely, with his parents away a lot. Have you contacted the cousin yet?”
“He doesn’t have a phone,” said Deputy Knight. “And we can’t locate him at his residence. We’ll keep trying, but we’re worried because his house is quite a bit out of the way, and it’s possible that the boy may have become lost. That’s why we’re checking out the whole island.”
“We’d like to help,” said Grandfather. “My grandchildren and I will keep an eye out for this boy. We’ll call you if we see him.”
The officers stood and shook Grandfather’s hand.
“Thanks for your cooperation,” said Deputy Perelli.
As Grandfather showed the men to the door, Benny went over to the coffee table. He found the old newspaper, tore a page from it, folded it, and jammed it into his pocket.
Henry watched his brother and knew Benny was on to something.
“We’re going out,” said Henry to Grandfather. “We need some air.”
Outside, they all began talking at once.
Henry held up a silencing hand. “Wait a minute! I know Benny knows something.”
“So does Jessie,” said Violet. “She’s got that look on her face. Spill, you two.”
Benny and Jessie told Violet and Henry where they thought they had seen the boy before. Benny showed them the newspaper photograph of the campers. Sure enough, the blond boy stood in the front row.
Violet gasped. “It is him! You can even see the shark’s tooth necklace around his neck!”
“I knew I’d seen that necklace someplace else before. But who could the relative be the policemen were talking about?” Benny wondered out loud.
“I have an idea,” said Henry. “Follow me.”
He led them across the road to the docks. At the end of the dock, Shad Toler was cleaning his catch. Shad’s pelican friend was watching intently.
The fisherman looked up when he saw them approach.
“Hey,” he said. “Think I ought to throw Greedy here a fish?”
Henry glanced into the bucket. Shad had caught a lot of fish today—enough to feed two people.
“I don’t know if you can spare a fish,” he said carefully. “It depends on how much Austin eats.”
Shad stared at him. “Pardon?”
Benny showed him the newspaper photo. “Some policemen came to our house today. They’re looking for this boy. Do you know him?”
“What makes you think I’d know him?” Shad said, suddenly unable to look them in the eye.
Jessie pulled the shark’s tooth necklace from her pocket. “This is Austin Derrick’s necklace. We found it on the beach. When we showed it to you, you said it was bad luck to wear shark’s teeth. But I think you were really afraid that we’d find out about Austin.”
Violet noticed the sky behind them growing very dark. A storm was approaching from the mainland. She remembered what Grandfather had said about storms being dangerous on the Outer Banks.
“Storm’s comin’,” Shad said nervously. “I’ve got to go home and … check on things.”
“Maybe we should come with you,” said Henry. “I think it’s time we found out the whole story.”
Shad looked out over the water. “Maybe it is time you knew. I’m getting tired of keeping secrets.”
CHAPTER 9
SOS
Shad walked the Aldens to his place. It seemed to take a long time and the sky grew darker all the while. He lived in an old house with several outbuildings near the shore.
“Come see this first,” said Shad, leading them to a shack half buried in a thicket of wild grapevines.
Rusty crab pots and ripped fishing nets hung from plank walls. In the middle of the floor was a narrow, low platform covered with a bright green beach towel. Nearby was a fish-market bucket half filled with apples. The only other furniture was a blue canvas beach chair.
“That looks like our bucket,” Jessie said. “And those must be Winifred Gorman’s apples. And her beach towel. I wonder why she said she found it.”
“I bet that chair belongs to the Seagull Resort,” Violet added. “It has the same seagull design on it.”
Henry looked at Shad. “Is this Austin’s hideout?”
Shad nodded ruefully. “I didn’t know he was here until a few days ago. He told me his folks dropped him off, which I thought was strange. All he had was his backpack. This morning when I was doing chores, I found this shack had been fixed up. He’s been here longer than I thought.”
“You didn’t know Austin had run away?” said Benny.
Shad shook his head. “Something seemed funny, the way he just showed up. But his parents are always traveling, so it seemed possible they would leave him with me for a while. He’s always welcome here. I supposed they could have been in a big hurry and didn’t have time to talk to me. But, like I said, it’s strange.”
“His parents called the police,” Henry said.
“When you told me the police were looking for him, I figured Austin was in trouble,” said Shad. “He hid out in this old fishing shack until he got too hungry. Then he came to me. Told me that story about his parents dropping him off. I think he’s scared, too.”
“We can help him,” said Jessie. “Where is he?”
“Up at my place.” Shad pointed toward a rambling wood
en house at the end of a sandy driveway.
As they walked to Shad’s house, Henry noticed an old Cadillac convertible parked in the yard.
“Cool car,” he said.
“Hasn’t run in years,” Shad informed him. “But I get by without one. I walk anyplace I need to go.”
Violet glanced back at the threatening sky. “We’d better hurry inside.”
They thudded up on the porch. Shad opened the front door, which was unlocked.
His house was plainly furnished with an old sofa, scuffed coffee table, and a well-used rocking chair. In the kitchen was an oak dining table with four matching chairs. A carved duck decoy stood on the fireplace mantel.
There was no sign of Austin Derrick other than a burgundy backpack lying in the corner.
“Austin!” Shad called into the two small bedrooms and single bathroom. “Where are you, boy?”
Henry watched gray storm clouds gather outside. Wind whipped the trees as thunder rumbled over the sea.
Shad came back, his face creased with worry. “He’s not here!”
“Where could he be?” Violet asked.
“I don’t know,” said Shad. “Unless …”
“Unless what?” Henry demanded. “You have to tell us everything or we can’t help.”
At that moment, a clap of thunder rattled the windowpanes. Shad switched on the lights.
Violet ran to look out. “It’s starting to rain. If Austin isn’t under cover, he’ll get soaked.”
Before she finished speaking, rain fell from the sky in sheets. It was impossible to see out the windows. Seconds later, the refrigerator in the kitchen quit humming and the lights blinked off.
“Power’s out,” Shad declared. “Happens a lot on the Banks. Wait just a minute.”
He fumbled in a side table drawer, pulling out candles and a box of matches. He also drew out a large flashlight, which he clicked on briefly to test the batteries.
“Should have bought batteries this week,” he muttered.
Jessie helped him light the candles. The flickering flames made the old house seem spooky, especially with the trees lashing outside.
The Mystery of the Wild Ponies Page 5