“Oh, yes he did!” said the little girl. “When he ran downstairs with my doll, and wouldn’t come back when I hollered at him, he was tying a string on her then. Oh, dear!”
“Never mind! I’ll get your doll back,” Mrs. Bobbsey said. “But first we must find Freddie.”
“He went down those stairs,” said Flossie, pointing to a flight that led to the motor room, where the engine was chug-chugging away, sending the Swallow over the waves. “He went down there.”
The engine room of the motor boat was a clean place, not like the engine room on a steamboat, filled with coal dust and a lot of machinery, and Mrs. Bobbsey knew it would be all right for her and Flossie to go down there and see what Freddie was doing.
“Now don’t cry any more,” Flossie’s mother told her, giving the little girl a handkerchief on which to dry her tears. “We’ll get your doll back, and I’ll have to scold Freddie a little, I think.”
“Maybe you can’t find him,” said Flossie.
“Oh, yes I can,” her mother declared.
“You can’t find him if he is hiding away.”
“I don’t think he will dare hide if he hears me calling him.”
“Maybe he will if he’s got my doll,” pouted Flossie.
“Now, Flossie, you mustn’t talk that way. I don’t believe Freddie meant to be naughty. He was only heedless.”
“Well, I want my doll!”
It was no easy matter for little Flossie to get down into the engine room of the motor boat. The little iron stairway was very steep, and the steps seemed to be very far apart.
“Let me help you, Flossie,” said her mother. “I don’t want you to fall and get yourself dirty.”
“Oh, Mother, it isn’t a bit dirty down here!” the little girl returned. “Why, it’s just as clean as it can be!”
“Still, there may be some oil around.”
“I’ll be very careful. But please let me go down all by myself,” answered the little girl.
She was getting at that age now when she liked to do a great many things for herself. Often when there was a muddy place to cross in the street, instead of taking hold of somebody’s hand Flossie would make a leap across the muddy place by herself.
Knowing how much her little girl was disturbed over the loss of her doll, Mrs. Bobbsey, at this time, allowed her to have her own way. And slowly and carefully the stout little girl lowered herself from one step of the iron ladder to the next until she stood on the floor of the engine room.
“Now, I got down all right, didn’t I?” she remarked triumphantly.
“Yes, my dear, you came down very nicely,” the mother answered.
Down in the engine room a man was oiling the machinery. He looked up as Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie came down the stairs.
“Have you seen my little boy?” asked Freddie’s mother. “My little girl says he came down here.”
“So he did,” answered the engineer. “I asked him if he was coming to help me run the boat, and he said he would a little later. He had something else to do now, it seems.”
“What?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Well, he said he wanted to go fishing. And as I knew you wouldn’t want him leaning over the rail I showed him where he could fish out of one of the portholes of the storeroom. A porthole is one of the round windows,” the engineer said, so Flossie would know what he was talking about. “I opened one of the ports for him, and said he could drop his line out of that. Then he couldn’t come to any harm.”
“Did he have a line?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Yes, a good, strong one. I guess he must have got it off Captain Crane. He’s a fisherman himself, the captain is, and he has lots of hooks and lines on board.”
“Oh, I hope Freddie didn’t have a hook!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No’m,” answered the engineer. “I didn’t see any, and I don’t think he did have any. He just had a long string, and I thought all he was going to do was to dangle it out of the porthole in the storeroom. He couldn’t come to any harm there, I knew, and I could keep my eye on him once in a while.”
“Did he have my rubber doll?” asked Flossie.
“I didn’t see any doll,” answered the engineer. “But he’s in there now,” he went on. “You can ask him yourself.”
Looking out of the engine room, Freddie could be seen farther back in the motor boat, in a place where boxes and barrels of food, and things for the boat, were kept. One of the side ports was open, and Freddie’s head was stuck out of this, so he could not see his mother and Flossie and the engineer looking at him.
“Well, I’m glad he’s all right,” said Mrs. Bobbsey with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for looking after him.”
“Oh, I like children,” said the man with a smile. “I have some little ones of my own at home.”
Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie went into the storeroom. Freddie did not hear them, for his head was still out of the round window. There was no danger of his falling out, for he could not have got his shoulders through, so Mrs. Bobbsey was not frightened, even though the little boy was leaning right over deep water, through which the Swallow was gliding.
“Oh, where is my doll?” asked Flossie, looking about and not seeing it. “I want my rubber doll!”
“I’ll ask Freddie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and then, in a louder voice, she called:
“Freddie! Freddie! Where is Flossie’s doll? You mustn’t take it away from her. I shall have to punish you for this!”
For a moment it seemed as if the little boy had not heard what his mother had said. Then, when she called him again, he pulled his head in from the porthole and whispered:
“Please don’t make a noise, Mother! I’m fishing, and a noise always scares the fish away!”
“But, Freddie, fishing or not, you mustn’t take Flossie’s playthings,” his mother went on.
Freddie did not answer for a moment. He had wound around his hand part of a heavy cord, which Mrs. Bobbsey knew was a line used to catch big fish. Freddie was really trying to catch something, it seemed.
“Is there a hook on that line?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, fearing, after all, that her little boy might have found one.
“Oh, no, Mother, there’s no hook,” Freddie answered. “I just tied on—” And then an odd look came over his face. His hand, with the line wound around it, was jerked toward the open porthole and the little boy cried:
“Oh, I got a fish! I got a fish! I got a big fish!”
CHAPTER XV
“Land Ho!”
Mrs. Bobbsey at first did not know whether Freddie was playing some of his make-believe games, or whether he really had caught a fish. Certainly something seemed to be pulling on the line he held out of the porthole, but then, his mother thought, it might have caught on something, as fishlines often do get caught.
“I’ve caught a fish! I’ve caught a fish!” Freddie cried again. “Oh, please somebody come and help me pull it in!”
Flossie was so excited—almost as much as was her brother—that she forgot all about her lost doll.
“Have you really caught a fish?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I really have! I guess maybe it’s a shark or a whale, it’s so big, and it pulls so hard!” cried Freddie.
And, really, the line that was wound around his hand was pulled so tight, and stretched so hard, where it went out of the hole and down into the ocean, that Freddie could not lower his fist.
“Oh, Freddie!” cried his mother. “If you have caught a fish it may cut your fingers by jerking on that line.”
“Well, I—I caught something!” Freddie said. “Please somebody get it off my line. And hurry, please!”
By this time Nan and Bert had run down into the storeroom. They saw what was going on.
“Are you sure you haven’t caught another hat?” asked Bert, as he remembered what had once happened to his little brother.
“It doesn’t pull like a hat,” Freddie answered. “It’s a real fish.”
“I bel
ieve he has caught something,” said Mr. Chase, the engineer, as he ran in from the motor room. “Yes, it’s either a fish or a turtle,” he added as he caught hold of the line and took some of the pull off Freddie’s hand. “Unwind that cord from your fingers,” he told the little boy. “I’ll take care of your fish—if you really have one.”
“Could it be a turtle?” asked Nan.
“Yes, there are lots of ’em in these waters,” the engineer said. “But I never knew one of ’em to bite on just a piece of string before, without even a hook or a bit of bait on it.”
“Oh, I got something on my line for bait,” Freddie answered.
But no one paid any attention to him just then, for the engineer, gently thrusting the little boy aside, looked from the porthole himself, and what he saw made him cry:
“The little lad has caught something all right. Would you mind running up on deck and telling Captain Crane your brother has caught something,” said Mr. Chase to Bert. “And tell him, if he wants to get it aboard he’d better tell one of the men to stand by with a long-handled net. I think it’s a turtle or a big fish, and it’ll be good to eat whatever it is—unless it’s a shark, and some folks eat them nowadays.”
“Oh, I don’t want to catch a shark!” exclaimed Freddie.
“It’s already caught, whatever it is,” said Mr. Chase, “It seems to be well hooked, too, whatever you used on the end of your line.”
“I tied on a—” began Freddie, but, once again, no one paid attention to what he said, for the fish, or whatever it was on the end of the line, began to squirm in the water, “squiggle” Freddie called it afterward—and the engineer had to hold tightly to the line.
“Please hurry and tell the captain to reach the net overboard and pull this fish in,” begged Mr. Chase of Bert. “I’d pull it in through the porthole, but I’m afraid it will get off if I try.”
All this while the Swallow was moving slowly along through the blue waters of the deep sea, for when the engineer had run in to see what Freddie had caught he had shut down the motor so that it moved at a quarter speed.
Up on deck ran Bert, to find his father and Captain Crane there talking with Cousin Jasper.
“What is it, Bert?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“Oh, will you please get out a net, Captain!” cried Nan’s brother. “Freddie has caught a big fish through the porthole and the engineer—Mr. Chase—is holding it now, and he can’t pull it in, and will you do it with a net?”
“My! that’s a funny thing to have happen!” said Mr. Bobbsey.
“I’ll get the net!” cried Captain Crane. “If your brother has really caught a fish or a turtle we can have it for dinner. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a turtle,” said the captain to Bert’s father. “There are plenty around where we are sailing now, and they’ll sometimes bite on a bare hook, though they like something to eat better. What bait did Freddie use?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Bert answered.
By this time Captain Crane had found a large net, which had a long handle fast to it, and also a rope, so that if the fish were so large that the handle should break in lifting it from the water, the rope would hold.
With the net ready to dip down into the water, Captain Crane ran along the deck until he stood above the porthole, out of which ran the line. The fish, or whatever it was, was still fast to the other end of the strong cord.
“Haul it up as close as you can to the side of the boat!” called the captain to the engineer, who thrust his head partly out of the round hole. “Then I’ll scoop it up in the net. Watch out he doesn’t get off the hook.”
“That’s the trouble,” said the engineer. “I don’t believe Freddie used a hook. But we’ll soon see.”
Up on the deck of the Swallow, as well as down in the storeroom, where Freddie, his mother and the others were watching, there was an anxious moment. They all wanted to see what it was the little boy had caught.
“Here we go, now!” cried Captain Crane, as he lowered the long-handled net into the water near the cord. The captain held to the wooden handle, and Mr. Bobbsey had hold of the rope.
Through the porthole Mr. Chase pulled on the cord until he had brought the flapping, struggling captive close to the side of the motor boat. Then, with a sudden scoop, Captain Crane slipped the net under it.
“Now pull!” he cried, and both he and Mr. Bobbsey did this.
Up out of the blue sea rose something in the net. And as the sun shone on the glistening sides Freddie, peering from the porthole beside the engineer, cried:
“Oh, it’s a fish! It’s a big fish!”
And indeed it was, a flapping fish, of large size, the silver scales of which shone brightly in the sun.
“Pull!” cried the captain to Mr. Bobbsey, and a few seconds later the fish lay flapping on deck.
Up from below came Freddie, greatly excited, followed by his mother, Nan, Flossie and Mr. Chase, Flossie chanting loudly: “Freddie caught a fish! Freddie caught a fish!”
“Didn’t I tell you I caught a fish?” cried the little boy, his blue eyes shining with excitement.
“You certainly did,” his father answered. “But how did you do it, little fat fireman?”
“Well, Captain Crane gave me the fishline,” Freddie answered.
“Yes, I did,” the captain said. “He begged me for one and I let him take it. I didn’t think he could do any harm, as I didn’t let him take any sharp hooks—or any hooks, in fact.”
“If he didn’t have his line baited, or a hook on it, I don’t see how he caught anything,” said the engineer.
“I did have something on my line,” Freddie exclaimed. “I had—I had—”
But just then Flossie, who had been forgotten in the excitement, burst out with:
“Where’s my doll, Freddie Bobbsey? Where’s my nice rubber doll that you took? I want her! Where is she?”
“I—I guess the fish swallowed her,” Freddie answered.
“The fish!” cried all the others.
“Yes. You see I tied the rubber doll on the end of the line ’stid of a hook,” the little boy added. “I knew I had to have something for to bait the fish, so they’d bite, so I tied Flossie’s doll on. The fish couldn’t hurt it much,” he went on. “’Cause once Snap had your rubber doll in his mouth, Flossie, and she wasn’t hurt a bit.”
“And is my doll in the fish now?” the little girl demanded, not quite sure whether or not she ought to cry.
“I guess it swallowed the doll,” returned Freddie. “Anyhow the doll was on the end of the string, and now the string is in the fish’s mouth. But maybe you can get your doll back, Flossie, when the fish is cooked.”
Captain Crane bent over the fish, which was flopping about on deck.
“It has swallowed the end of the line, and, I suppose, whatever was fast on the cord,” he said. “If it was Flossie’s doll, that is now inside the fish.”
“And can you get it out?” asked Bert.
“Oh, yes, when we cut the fish open to clean it ready to cook, we can get the doll.”
“Is that fish good to eat?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Very good indeed. It’s one of our best kind,” the captain said. “Freddie is a better fisherman than he knew.”
And the little Bobbsey twin had really caught a fish. Just why it was the fish had bit on the line baited with Flossie’s rubber doll, no one knew. But Captain Crane said that sometimes the fish get so hungry they will almost bite on a bare hook, and are caught that way.
This fish of Freddie’s was so large that it had swallowed the doll, which was tied fast on the end of the line, and once the doll was in its stomach the fish could not get loose from the heavy cord.
“But you mustn’t take Flossie’s doll for fish-bait again,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No’m, I won’t!” Freddie promised. “But now maybe I can have a real hook and bait.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” said Mr. Bobbsey with a smile.
The l
ine was cut, close to the mouth of the big fish, which weighed about fifteen pounds, and then Freddie’s prize was taken by the cook down to the galley, or kitchen. A little later the cook brought back Flossie’s rubber doll, cleanly washed, and with the piece of string still tied around its waist.
“Is she hurt?” asked Flossie, for her doll was very real to the little girl, since she often pretended she was alive.
“No, she’s all right—not even a pinhole in her,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “There are a few marks of the teeth of the fish, where it grabbed your rubber doll, but she was swallowed whole, like Jonah and the whale, so no harm was done.”
“I’m glad,” said the little girl, as she cuddled her plaything, so strangely given back to her. “And don’t you dare take her for fish-bait again, Freddie Bobbsey.”
“No, Flossie, I won’t,” he said. “I’ll use real bait after this.”
“But you mustn’t do any more fishing without telling me or your mother,” cautioned Mr. Bobbsey. “You might have been pulled overboard by this one.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Freddie declared. “Only my head could go through the porthole.”
“Well, don’t do it again,” his father warned him, and the little boy promised that he would not.
The fish was cooked for supper, and very good it was, too. Flossie and Freddie ate some and Flossie pretended to feed her doll a little, though of course the doll didn’t really chew.
“The fish tried to eat you, and now you can eat some of the fish,” Flossie said, with a laugh.
The Bobbsey twins wanted to stay up late that night, and watch the moonlight on the water, but their mother, after letting them sit on deck a little while, said it would be best for them to “turn in,” as the sailors call going to bed. They had been up early, and the first day of their new voyage at sea had been a long one.
So down to their berths they went and were soon ready for bed.
“My, we had a lot of things happen today!” remarked Flossie.
“Well, I’m sorry I took the doll, but I’m awful glad I caught that great big fish,” answered Freddy.
“But you’re never going to take her for fish bait again, Freddie Bobbsey!” repeated his twin.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 129