“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 Us, I’ll bet the Us 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!”
29
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 wi
ll 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?”
There was laughter and approval from the Grange Gang. Wilf swelled his chest and grinned to show them he was fearless.
The younger boy drew in a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “The dare is this. If I’m in the almshouse more than two minutes, you’ve got to come in and get me out.”
Regina spoke out scornfully. “Huh, anything you can do, Wilf can do as well. If you’re not scared, he certainly isn’t!”
More murmurs of approval arose from the gang: They had every confidence in their leader. Unfortunately Wilf did not share their belief. He found himself wishing he had not started the whole business of silly dares.
Ben interrupted his thoughts. “It’s almost midnight. Shouldn’t we all get over to the almshouse?”
Regina cast him a wilting glance. “We? You and your dog can do what you like. Coward!”
The Labrador shot his master a thought. “Shall I nip her ankle?”
The boy patted his faithful friend. “No need to, things are working out quite nicely, pal. Alex is a great actor.”
They crouched to one side of the rickety iron gate behind a lilac that grew over the fence. Regina looked at her watch. “It’s turned twelve. Get moving, you!”
The young boy opened the gate and crept hesitantly toward the door of the almshouse. There was a titter from the gang as Regina called out in a loud whisper. “Go on, he won’t eat you, I don’t think!”
Reaching the almshouse door, Alex paused, then raising his hand, he knocked faintly twice.
The door flew open and there was Jon, looking like something out of a nightmare. He had a blanket wrapped about his shoulders like a flowing cloak, flour on his face, lampblack underneath his eyes, and two Brazil nuts hanging down from his upper lip like fangs. Laughing madly, he grabbed Alex and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. The effect was startling. Led by Wilf and Regina, the Grange Gang fled screaming across the square. Ned went around the back like a dark streak, cutting off their way through Evans Tea Shoppe’s alley by blocking off the far end. Ben and Amy came dashing across the square in the gang’s wake, effectively penning them in the narrow alley. Ben tipped Amy the wink. “You tackle Wilf. Leave Regina to me!”
Amy pushed her way through the melee of milling gang members and found Wilf standing paralyzed in front of a snarling Ned. She grabbed the big boy by his shirtfront and shook him. “Get back to the almshouse and help my brother! You were the one who thought all this up and dared him. Come on, I’m going to see that you carry out your end of the dare!” She began to drag Wilf away from the wall that he was huddled against.
Everyone saw it, Wilf Smithers collapsed to the ground, clutching his bandaged hand and blubbering like a baby. “Waahahaah! I’m sick, my hand’s hurting, let go of me, please, I want to go home. Waaaaahh!”
Regina had been scrambling her way to the back of the gang, intent on escaping into the square, when Ben grabbed her hand. “What about you going to help Alex? You were the one calling all the names. Why don’t you take the dare for Wilf?”
She broke out in tears. “It wasn’t anything to do with me! It was all Wilf’s idea, he said we should do it!”
Ben called to the others. “Amy and I are going back to the almshouse. You lot run and get some help. Fetch a policeman, quick!”
The mention of police involvement sent them all stumbling past the big black Labrador and off into the darkness, crying.
“My dad doesn’t even know I’m out!”
“I’m not going to any police station!”
“Nothing t’do with us, it was Wilf!”
Ned let them go. Amy planted her shoe firmly against Wilf’s bottom and shoved him on his way. “Get out of my sight, coward!”
Ben released Regina, and she shot off sobbing. In a trice the alley was deserted, save for Amy, Ben, and his dog. The sound of bolts being withdrawn from Evans’s side door caused Ned to melt back into the shadows. A light went on, throwing a golden shaft across the alley. Blodwen Evans’s huge nightgowned figure appeared in the open doorway. She was holding a hooked window-blind pole and holding on to her mobcap, squinting at Ben.
“Indeed to goodness, what’s all the row out here, boyo, eh?”
Ben flicked at his tousled hair and smiled disarmingly. “Sorry about the noise, Miz Evans. My dog’s got loose and I was out calling for him. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
A gruff bark from nearby sent the boy running off, followed by Amy, who was calling. “Here, Ned! Good dog! Here, boy!”
Mrs. Evans shook her head as she closed the door. “I ’opes they get him, I need my sleep!”
30
THE OLD SHIP’S CARPENTER AND ALEX had cocoa made for Ben, Amy, and Ned as they entered the almshouse through the back window. They related what had happened in the alley, the younger boy and Jon roaring with laughter at Amy’s impression of Wilf sobbing and wanting to go home, hugging his injured hand.
Ben sipped his cocoa and winked at Alex. “Wait’ll they find out tomorrow that you faced the Mad Professor and lived to tell the tale. I don’t think the Grange Gang or Wilf will ever bother you again, Alex. It was great to see how you went at the bully and had him bawling in front of his own gang. They’ll respect you and your sister from now on.�
�
Alex put his empty mug down. “But only because of you, Ben.”
The blue-eyed boy patted Alex heartily on the back. “Nonsense, mate, all I did was suggest a thing or two. The rest was you, having confidence in yourself. Isn’t that right, Ned?”
The dog nodded. Jon looked over the rim of his cocoa mug at him. “I suppose that was his collar itching him again, eh, Ben?”
The strange boy’s eyes twinkled. “You supposed right, mate.”
Alex was beginning to feel sleepy; he blinked. “Supposed what?”
The black Lab leaped to the window frame, followed by Ben, who chuckled. “Supposed to meet at the library first thing in the morning, so we can have a word with Mr. Braithwaite. G’night, pals. Jon, will you see Amy and Alex get home all right?”
Ben and Ned vanished into the night like twin shadows.
Amy stared at the empty window space. “There’s something rather odd about Ben. It’s almost as if he and Ned are magic. What do you think, Jon?”
The ex-ship’s carpenter wiped the last of the lampblack off with a damp rag. “Ben’s no more magic than you, me, or Alex. He’s just good, aye, and clever. He’s certainly taught me a thing or two, as old as I am. Come on, mates, I’ll walk you as far as your house.”
“Not quite as far,” Alex replied. “Leave us at the end of the lane, we’ve got to sneak in by the pantry window.”
Jon’s craggy face broke into a smile. “See, you’re learning fast, pal!”
At breakfast next morning Hetty the maid brought the post into the dining room. She placed it next to Obadiah Smithers’s plate, bobbed a brief curtsy, and left.
Mrs. Smithers cast a worried glance at Wilf’s empty chair. “Poor Wilfred, perhaps he’s stayed in bed because he’s still feeling poorly. I’ll tell Hetty to take him a tray up.”
“No, you won’t, madam!” Smithers slit an envelope vigorously with his egg-stained breakfast knife. “Let the young whelp stay abed until he’s hungry enough to get himself down here and take his place at table. Confounded fool, punchin’ a wall of all things, losing to a lad half his size. Oh, I’ve heard all about it from Reggie Woodworthy, Regina told him. Can’t hold my head up in the village! Man with a great, strappin’ son who doesn’t know the difference between the other fellow’s nose and a schoolyard wall. Huh!”
[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman Page 17