The Mystery of the Castaway Children
Page 12
“It’s time to clear up some things,” the sergeant decided.
“Don’t look at me,” Sax said. “I didn’t take those kids.”
“Me neither,” Roger said. His hands were locked together, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with his feet. He shuffled them awkwardly.
“We re not talking about taking kids,” said the sergeant. “We’re talking about making threats!”
“Oh, that.” Sax’s eyes were bold. “Is there a law against typewriting?”
“There is when it’s a ransom note,” the sergeant snapped back. “Just what was it that inspired you?”
Sax jerked his head at Roger. “Talk to him.” Roger Higgins had decided that his feet fitted together best when they were ankle to ankle. He hunched his shoulders up around his ears, his great brush of brown hair sticking out like a clown’s wig.
“Well?” the sergeant barked, cupping one ear. “Okay, okay,” Roger said. “We was taking inventory out at the Dodge farm. That is, my pop was, and I was just hanging around. I’m supposed to be learning the business.”
“You were learning the business,” the sergeant corrected him.
Roger nodded at Davy, who was leaning against his father’s shoulder. “There was this kid following us around, listening to everything we said. I could see he wasn’t liking it one bit. He just about had a fit when Pop wrote down the description of his pony. But his daddy tried to tell him how it had to go ’cause they couldn’t keep no livestock in the apartment they were moving to.
“And I winked at his daddy, and I asked, ‘How much are you askin’ for your kids?’ And he winked back and said, ‘How much do you think they’ll bring?’ ”
“David!” Eileen gasped in horror. “You said that?”
David bit his lips and nodded. “So that’s what you meant in your note about selling you and the baby,” he said, handing Dodgy to Eileen and giving Davy an enormous hug.
Roger went on. “Then the kid sort of tugged his daddy’s sleeve and said, ‘You can sell me if you have to, but not the new Dodge.’ That didn’t make much sense, but I could see the kid was hurtin’ bad, and he wasn’t in any mood for teasing.
“Then pretty soon we got to the implement shed, and there was this new car standing there.”
“A Dodge compact,” Trixie recalled.
Roger traded scowls with Trixie. “When we got there, my pop asked, ‘You’re sure about the new Dodge?’ The kid’s daddy said, ‘I’ve got my back to the wall. I can’t afford to feed an extra cat, so everything goes.’ Well, that kid took off like a shot. Later, I saw him ride off on the pony with the baby. He wasn’t seen hide nor hair of till this—” At a loss for words, Roger glared at Trixie.
“The word is girl,” Mart informed him.
“—girl stuck her nose into my business!”
“Just what made it your business?” the sergeant asked.
“Why not?” Roger Higgins flared. “Sax was crowding me for the five thousand dollars I owed him. I told him about the kids disappearing, and he came up with the idea of collecting ransom from the kids’ daddy. That way, we’d both make a profit. We had no idea where the silly kids were, but Sax said we should write the first note anyway. Then we looked around for the kids but couldn’t find ’em. So Sax made me up the ante to twenty thousand and write the second note.”
“You knew how much the Dodges would make at their auction, and you asked for all of it,” Trixie accused.
“Sure, why not?” Roger was unrepentant.
“So it would end up in Sax’s pocket?” the sergeant asked.
“So what?” Roger yelled. “It let me off the hook!” He had a slow wit, but Trixie suspected it was finally dawning on him that breaking a law had put him in worse trouble than owing money.
In the crowded farmhouse kitchen, a small voice was heard. “I didn’t know those men wrote notes to my daddy,” said Davy Dodge.
“Why did you take your baby brother and run away?” the sergeant asked gently.
Davy’s lips quivered. “They told you. Daddy was going to sell the new Dodge and Wicky and me because he couldn’t afford to keep us. I—I guess he didn’t mean the baby, after all.”
David held Davy close and said, “I’m sorry, son. I thought you understood I was joking.”
“When someone’s hurting, you don’t make jokes, Mr. Dodge,” said Jim, a former runaway himself.
Quietly David answered, “I guess I was hurting, too, so I tried to joke my way through losing the farm.”
“Oh, Davy, how did you manage?” his mother cried.
“I took some bottles and diapers, and I took Wicky’s fly sheet so I could take care of him, too. I broke my piggy bank and Dodgy’s, but he didn’t have much in his. I didn’t have room to take anything else, so I guess you sold my clothes and books and toys, huh?”
“Of course not, Davy,” Eileen assured him. “We even kept that clock you like so much.”
“Then what did you do, Davy?” the sergeant prompted.
“Well, I had trouble getting on Wicky with Dodgy, so I used the fly sheet to tie Dodgy against me as tight as I could, so I wouldn’t drop him. I had to do that every time I climbed on Wicky. Sometimes, I—I bumped Dodgy and he cried.” Davy reached out to touch his brother, who had fallen asleep in his mother’s arms.
“He cried when I stuck him with the pin, too. He cried an awful lot, but I tried to take care of him, honest I did! I was scared, though. There were lots of highways.
“When we got across all those highways, I was glad to get into the woods. Only it was lots bigger than I thought it was. Wicky lost one of his shoes, so I borrowed some tools and took his other shoes off. I found a good place to stay, where some men fed me out of their lunch pails, and I milked a goat named Nancy. But Dodgy got so he didn’t wake up much, and he didn’t want to drink his milk.
“He liked to be clean, so I washed his diapers in a brook and dried them on the bushes, but I had to chase Wicky part of the time. Wicky liked to play with Nancy at the barn. Once I saw that man.” Davy pointed a shaky finger at Roger. “I thought he was hunting for us to sell us, so I took a man’s T-shirt and tore it up to make diapers, ’cause Dodgy’s weren’t dry yet. Then we rode some more.
“When it got dark that day, we slept under a bush at a kind of hotel. I had a hard time keeping track of things. I kept losing stuff, like diapers and bootees and bottles and the fly sheet. One night it got very hot and thundery. I knew it was going to storm. I tried to build a tepee, but it was too small for me and Dodgy, so I just kept going.
“Then I saw this doghouse. There was no dog in it, so I just put Dodgy in to keep him dry till the rain stopped. Only—only then I couldn’t get him back!”
By this time, Davy was sobbing. Both parents patted and cuddled him as if they would never be able to touch him enough in a lifetime. It seemed to Trixie that, as careless as the Dodges might have previously been with their money, they could never be as careless with their love for their sons.
Davy rubbed his eyes and continued. “Wicky and me found plenty of places to sleep in the woods, but I tried to stay as close to Dodgy as I could. I knew Dodgy would be safe here in case that man was still hunting for us. This house is easy to get into. People go in and out all the time and leave doors open.”
The shadows and sounds... the misplaced rug and the mud... the open refrigerator... Of course, thought Trixie. Davy’s been watching over Dodgy just like Miriam kept watch over her brother Moses in his basket.
“Sometimes the dog barked at me,” Davy went on, “but no one else seemed to know I was here.”
“What did you have to eat, son?” his father asked.
“There’s a garden and an orchard on this farm,” Davy explained. “I pulled up stuff—just what I needed,” he added hastily, looking apologetically at the Beldens. “Once I took food from the refrigerator, but I paid for it!”
“I found your money,” Di put in.
“And I gave you a sandwich,” Bo
bby added, feeling important.
“It was a good sandwich,” Davy said. After a silence, he asked his father, “Did you get enough money, Daddy? Do you still have to sell us?” He bit his lower lip to keep it from shaking.
“We weren’t going to sell you, and we never will,” David said earnestly, kissing his son’s forehead.
“We aren’t going to an apartment,” his mother told him. “Your daddy has a new job. He’ll be working on a farm, and we’ll be living on the farm with him.”
“Wicky, too?” Davy asked.
“Of course,” Eileen said.
Bobby looked crestfallen at the idea of losing a pony that he had known so short a time, but then he brightened. “I’ll come see you, Davy.”
“We’ll both ride Wicky,” Davy offered.
“But Dodgy’ll have to wait till he’s big like us,” Bobby said. “I don’t think he likes to be tied up.”
Trixie took the coins from the top of the refrigerator and handed some to Davy. “You paid us too much,” she told him. “We also found some of your money in the woods.”
“I knew I lost some when I took a bath,” Davy said.
It all fits together, Trixie thought. Even the soap.
At that moment, the telephone rang. The call was for Jim.
“Yes, Regan,” said Jim. “I know Starlight, Strawberry, and Spartan came home with a Shetland. I hoped they did, at any rate. Will you please send someone to pick up Honey and me?
Jim winked at the group gathered around him in the kitchen. “Why do we need a ride? Well, I’ll tell you, Regan. Brian’s gas tank is empty. The tires on my ten-speed are slashed. A police car, a red convertible, and the Beldens’ car are blocking the way of the Bob-White station wagon in the lane. It’s getting pretty crowded around here, so it’s time we all clear out. That’s why we need a ride!”
“You don’t need to go, Jim,” Bobby said. “Our walls are stretchy. Moms says so.”
Eileen Dodge shifted the weight of the baby in her arms and said tremulously, “And so are your hearts.”
“We Dodges owe all of you a debt we can never repay,” her husband agreed.
Di’s violet eyes sparkled impishly. “You and your family can pay me back by coming to my party tomorrow,” she said.
“What party?” teased Mart. “Jeepers! We know who Dodgy is—he doesn’t need a naming ceremony anymore.”
“We’re having the party because I’ve already done all the preparations for it!” Di retorted.
“And besides,” added Trixie, kissing the top of Dodgy’s downy head, “look how much more than just a name we have to celebrate now!” Dodgyawoke, stretched his arms, and cooed his agreement.
“It’s Not a Skunk” ● 1
Elastic Walls ● 2
Batter Is Pancakes ● 3
One Iron Nail ● 4
Sergeant Molinson Needs Help • 5
Kidnapped? ● 6
The Missing Horseshoe • 7
Wet Soap and a Tepee 8
Twenty Thousand Dollars • 9
A Goat Named Nancy ● 10
Smitty’s T-Shirt • 11
Friends of Moses White ● 12
What’s Mutual? ● 13
Hostages ● 14
Table of Contents
“It’s Not a Skunk” ● 1
Elastic Walls ● 2
Batter Is Pancakes ● 3
One Iron Nail ● 4
Sergeant Molinson Needs Help • 5
Kidnapped? ● 6
The Missing Horseshoe • 7
Wet Soap and a Tepee 8
Twenty Thousand Dollars • 9
A Goat Named Nancy ● 10
Smitty’s T-Shirt • 11
Friends of Moses White ● 12
What’s Mutual? ● 13
Hostages ● 14