At the end of the exercises, when everybody stood up to sing The Star Spangled Banner, the mayor came to the edge of the platform.
“Before you leave our beautiful town,” he boomed over the loud-speaker, “I have an important announcement to make.”
“I wonder what it is,” Nan whispered to her twin.
Everyone listened intently. The mayor explained that in the afternoon a plane would fly over the area of Meadowbrook and a stunt man would parachute onto one of the neighboring farms.
“We don’t know which farm this will be,” he continued, “but the first person reaching the parachutist after he lands will receive a prize!”
A buzz of excitement swept over the crowd. There were many farms in the area and everyone wondered which would be the lucky one.
After the meeting broke up, Aunt Sarah said, “I’m inviting all the paraders to come back to Meadowbrook Farm to lunch. We can watch for the parachutist from there.”
It was decided that the girls would go back in the pony cart while the grownups and the boys rode in the station wagon.
“I hope everything’s all right at the farm,” Harry observed. “The last time we were away, Major was stolen!”
“Speaking of Major,” Uncle Daniel said, “I asked all the farmers at the ceremonies if they had any clues to his disappearance. They knew nothing about our bull, but they did say that several valuable animals had also been stolen from them during the past few weeks.”
“Probably by Mitch and Clint!” Bert declared.
By this time they had reached the farm. The boys ran quickly to a picnic table which Martha and Dinah had set up on the lawn.
“Oh boy, does that look good!” Bud cried. “I hope the girls come soon so we can eat!”
Rocket turned into the lane not long afterward and soon the children and grownups were enjoying the delicious lunch. They discussed the parade and bicycle race.
“I’m sure sorry I broke up the race!” Bud said. “I just looked around and the next thing I knew I was on the ground I”
Nan giggled. “It was funny to see you all rolling around in the street! But,” she added, “I’m glad no one was hurt!”
“And everyone knew Freddie and I were Uncle Sam and Miss Liberty!” Flossie put in proudly. “I heard one lady say she thought we were awf’ly good!”
Then Tom spoke up. “I wonder what time that plane was to fly over?”
“I think I hear one now!” Freddie exclaimed, jumping up from the table.
They all listened. Sure enough, they could hear the drone of an airplane off in the distance.
“Let’s go out in the pasture,” Harry proposed. “We can see better from there.”
The children dashed out to the meadow. Shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands, they gazed up to the sky. The plane, which a moment before had been only a speck, could now be seen clearly.
It passed directly over the watching children, then turned to the east.
“It’s going away!” Flossie cried, disappointed.
“But look! It’s coming back!” Freddie shouted.
The plane circled once more. Then something dropped from it. In another second a white parachute billowed out and began to float toward the ground.
“It’s the parachutist and he’s coming this way!” Bert cried.
CHAPTER IX
“WHOA, THERE! WHOA!”
BREATHLESSLY the children watched the man swinging at the end of the long rope attached to the parachute. He appeared to be heading toward the Bobbsey farm.
Then a little gust of wind came and blew the parachutist to the left. “He’s coming down on our farm!” Tom Holden yelled. He dashed across the pasture to the fence which separated the two properties.
“Wait, Tom!” Bert called after him. “I think he’ll land here after all!”
Tom paused, uncertain, as the wind changed again. This time the parachute was blown directly over the Bobbsey orchard. It was wafted lower and lower.
“I think the man’s going to land in a tree!” Nan said excitedly.
As she spoke the white parachute settled over several trees and hung there, limp. All the children raced across the meadow and into the orchard. Dodging in and out among the trees, they made for the parachute.
Bert quickly freed the man
As Bert was running under a particularly tall tree he heard someone call, “Here I am! Help me get down!”
Bert peered up through the leafy branches. There, almost at the top of the tree, was the stunt man. The lines of his parachute seemed to be caught and he could not move.
“I’ll be right there!” Bert assured him. Nimbly he began to climb the tree.
“Just unfasten these lines from my belt,” the man directed when Bert got to him. “I can’t reach them.”
Bert quickly freed the man. “Oh thank you,” he said. The two climbed down the tree. The other children waited at the foot of the tree, starry-eyed.
The parachutist jumped to the ground. “Well,” he said, laughing, “I guess this young man here wins the prize. He even climbed a tree to rescue me!”
As they all waited expectantly, the stunt man pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Bert.
“What is it?” Freddie asked impatiently.
“Open it quick!” Flossie urged.
Bert tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. A smile came over his face. “It’s an order to buy something at the Meadowbrook Sports Shop,” he explained. “I can get anything I want there as a gift.”
“Say, that’s great,” Harry said. “What’ll you pick out?”
“I know!” Flossie spoke up. “You can buy a bed for Snoop!”
“But we already made Snoop a bed,” Bert protested, “out of an old carton.”
“Snoop doesn’t like that one,” Freddie put in. “He won’t sleep in it.”
Bert promised to think over the matter, then asked the stunt man about his parachute.
“I’d certainly appreciate it if you boys would help me get it out of the tree,” the parachutist said.
The four older boys set to work untangling the parachute lines from the tree top and finally were able to lift the huge nylon bag free. They carried it to the meadow, laid it on the grass, and folded the cloth as best they could.
“Very good job,” its owner said.
The grownups had strolled over to examine the parachute. Now Uncle Daniel offered to drive the stunt man into town.
“I’d appreciate that,” he said.
Freddie looked down the road a long time after the man had gone. Then he said to his mother and Flossie, “Maybe when I grow up, I’ll be a chute man and float through the air.”
Mrs. Bobbsey smiled. “Right now, if you want to grow up, you’ll eat some supper and go to bed!”
Around midnight, when everyone at the farm was asleep, Nan awakened. Someone was playing the piano again, exactly the way Flossie had described it—just scales !
“It can’t be,” Nan told herself. “I must be dreaming.”
She lay still and listened. There it came again. Someone was downstairs and he or she was playing the piano! And fancier now!
The notes came in little runs, then there would be a discordant thump.
“I’m going to get Uncle Daniel and see who it is,” Nan decided.
She slipped on her robe and slippers and knocked at his door. When he came out, she told him in whispers about the strange music. It had stopped now.
He switched on the light. “All right, we’ll go down and see who’s there,” he agreed. “Maybe a sleepwalker.”
“Freddie does walk in his sleep sometimes,” Nan said. “He usually goes to the kitchen for some milk.”
Together Nan and Uncle Daniel crept down the stairs. When they reached the living room he snapped on the light there. Nobody was at the piano or anywhere in the room. They walked from room to room but found nothing unusuaL Snoop was curled up in his box in the kitchen.
Nan was embarrassed but
insisted she had heard the piano. “I guess a ghost must have been playing it,” she said.
The next morning at breakfast Nan told about the music. “It was probably a mouse,” Bert said, grinning.
“Don’t be silly,” Nan answered. “A mouse isn’t heavy enough to push down the keys.”
“Well, I hope I’ll hear this ghost the next time he visits us,” Uncle Daniel said with a chuckle. “Maybe I’ll be able to catch him before he gets away.”
Nan laughed. “How do you hold onto a ghost?” she asked.
“By his sheet!” Freddie spoke up.
“Oh, you think this is a pretend ghost,” Uncle Daniel teased.
“Aren’t all ghosts pretend?” Flossie asked.
“Of course.”
After breakfast Aunt Sarah said, “How would you children like to help on the farm this morning?”
“Oh yes,” Flossie agreed. “May I feed the chickens and gather the eggs?”
“All right. And Freddie can help you.” The small twins went off with Uncle Daniel.
Aunt Sarah went on. “Anybody want to help me weed the vegetable garden and plant some seeds for winter carrots and beets?”
“I will,” Nan offered.
The boys elected to help clean the stables, put in fresh straw and hay and water.
The children had just finished their work and had met at the picnic table for a little snack when Mark Teron walked into the yard.
“I came to see your pony,” he announced. “My dad says he’ll buy me one if I’d like to ride it.”
“Sure, Mark,” Bert replied cordially. “Come out to the barn and I’ll introduce you to Rocket.”
Harry joined them and the three boys strolled off toward the big white barn. Rocket was in his stall contentedly munching some oats when Bert went in.
“Come on, boy,” he said, leading the little pony out into the barnyard. “Someone wants to see you.”
The three boys gathered around Rocket, admiring his smooth coat and stroking his white mane.
“Can you ride him?” Mark asked. “Or do you always have to harness him to a cart?”
“Of course not,” Bert said. “I haven’t ridden him yet, but I’m sure I could. He’s very gentle.”
“Let’s put a saddle on and try him out,” Mark proposed. “We’ll draw lots to see who gets the first ride.”
They drew straws and Harry won. He ran into the barn and brought out a small saddle. While he went back for some stirrups Mark helped Bert saddle the pony.
“Okay,” Mark called when Harry returned.
Harry adjusted the stirrups and mounted. At once Rocket reared into the air and took off like a shot!
“Whoa, Rocket! Whoa!” Harry cried, almost falling off the saddle. “What’s the matter with you?”
Harry felt as if he were being shaken to pieces. The boy pulled on the reins with all his might, trying to slow the little animal’s pace. But Rocket paid no attention. He dashed out of the barnyard and across the pasture.
Bert and Mark ran after him, yelling, “Whoa! Whoa!”
This only made the pony go faster. He headed across the end of the orchard and toward a neighbor’s cornfield.
“Oh boy!” Harry thought. “If he runs into Mr. Trimble’s corn, there’s going to be trouble!”
Mr. Trimble’s farm bordered the Bobbseys’ for a short distance. He was an unfriendly old bachelor who lived alone in a weatherbeaten farmhouse. His corn was his special pride.
Rocket reached the cornfield and trampled several plants. Then Harry managed to steer him toward a low fence. Faced by the bars, the pony refused to jump. He stopped so suddenly that Harry flew over his head, and landed in a pasture on the other side.
Bert and Mark reached the field just as Harry was painfully picking himself up. “Are you hurt?” Bert asked anxiously.
Harry shook his head. “Just knocked the wind out of me,” he said. “But let’s get out of this field before old Trimble sees us.”
Bert grabbed Rocket by the bridle and led him back to the Bobbsey property. “I can’t understand what made Rocket act like that,” he said. “It was almost as if—” He stopped and felt under the pony’s saddle.
“This was it!” he exclaimed, holding up a burr. “But how did that get there?”
Something about Mark’s strange expression made Bert cry out, “Did you put this burr there?”
CHAPTER X
THE UNDERWATER RESCUE
WHEN Bert accused him of putting the burr under Rocket’s saddle, Mark started to run away. But Harry was too quick for him. He grabbed Mark by the arm and swung him around.
“I thought you told Dad you’d behave yourself if you played with us,” he said sternly. “Bert and I ought to teach you a lesson!”
Mark shook off Harry’s hand. “I didn’t know Rocket would run away,” he whined. “I just wanted to have a little fun ! But you never could take a joke! Besides, two against one’s no fair.”
“It wouldn’t have been much of a joke if Harry had been hurt,” Bert reminded him.
“And it’s not going to be a joke when Mr. Trimble finds his corn broken down,” Harry said. “You know how grouchy he is.”
“He probably won’t even notice it,” Mark scoffed, and walked off.
But Mr. Trimble did notice the damage and hurried over to the Bobbsey farm that afternoon. With a scowl on his sunburned face, he strode across the barnyard, where Uncle Daniel was repairing a barn lock.
“Where’s that scalawag son of yours?” he demanded loudly.
Daniel Bobbsey straightened up. “My son is not a scalawag,” he replied calmly. “If you’ve come about your corn, I’ll be glad to pay you for any loss.”
“People got no business letting animals run wild on other folks’ property,” Mr. Trimble replied, still scowling deeply.
“It was an accident,” Uncle Daniel explained patiently. “The pony ran away and Harry couldn’t stop him.”
Harry and Bert had seen Mr. Trimble talking to Uncle Daniel and now joined them. “I’m sorry Rocket and I got into your cornfield,” the boy apologized. “Only a few stalks were knocked down.”
Mr. Trimble stopped scowling. “Well, maybe I did make too much fuss over the corn,” he admitted. “Seems like I’ve had nothing but trouble ever since I let Mitch and Clint go.”
“Mitch and Clint!” Bert and Harry repeated excitedly.
“They were a couple of farmhands I had,” the neighbor replied. “They were pretty good with my cows, but I couldn’t depend on ‘em to stay around when I needed ’em. So last week I told the pair to clear out.”
Daniel Bobbsey told his neighbor about the loss of Major, the bull, and what little Sandy had overheard. “Have you any idea where Mitch and Clint went?” he concluded.
Mr. Trimble shook his head. “No, I haven’t. But if they ever come around again I’ll let you know.”
“Do you have a picture of them?” Bert asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“Any sample of their handwriting?”
“No,” Mr. Trimble answered. “My goodness, boy, you sound like a detective!”
Bert laughed. “I want to find Major so my cousin can enter him in the County Fair. Can you think of any clue we could give the police?”
Mr. Trimble cupped his chin in hand. “Well, now, this might help a little. Mitch had quite an assortment of big colored handkerchiefs. He always carried a couple with him. Sometimes he wore one around his neck, cowboy style.”
“That’s a neat clue,” said Bert. “Uncle Daniel, may I call State Police Headquarters and tell them?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
The two boys hurried to the house and put in the call. Just as they finished, Tom Holden and Bud Stout arrived. Both boys held fishing poles and Tom had a can of worms.
“We thought maybe you fellows would go fishing with us,” Tom proposed.
“How about it, Bert?” Harry asked.
“Sure, I’d like to go. Nan and Flossie an
d Freddie are going into town with our mothers, so we’re on our own.”
The two boys ran into the house and chose a couple of rods and a wicker basket for their catch.
“Let’s go over to the cove,” Harry suggested as they started off. “There’s usually pretty good fishing there.”
They walked across the fields until they came to the riverbank. Then they made their way upstream to the quiet cove. Finally they sat down on the edge and baited their hooks. When the lines had been thrown into the water, the boys remained very still, waiting for a bite.
Suddenly Bert’s line grew taut. “I’ve hooked something!” he whispered.
Bert jerked up his line with such force that the fish on the end of it swung around and slapped Harry in the face!
“Hey!” Harry yelled. “It’s a good fish, but I don’t want to kiss it!”
The boys burst into laughter and teased Bert for being a green fisherman.
“I guess I did get a little excited,” he admitted. “I’ll try not to hit anyone else!” he added with a chuckle, taking his catch off the hook and dropping it into the basket.
Tom had the next bite, and then Harry caught a good-sized bass.
Bud grew discouraged. “I’m going out on that limb,” he decided, pointing to a tree whose branches extended over the water.
“You’re no bird, Buddy boy,” Tom teased his friend. “You’re too heavy for that branch!”
“I’ll be all right,” the stout boy insisted. He climbed into the tree and then inched his way out on the limb. “This is great!” he cried, lying down flat on the narrow limb and dropping his line into the water.
For a while all the boys were quiet. No one spoke as they did not want to frighten away the fish. All that could be heard was a little wood-pecker in a tree nearby drilling for insects.
Suddenly there was a loud crack and a big splash!
“Bud!” the other three boys yelled. The branch had finally snapped beneath the heavy boy, throwing him into the water!
The three waited for their friend’s head to pop up above the surface. Several seconds passed, but there was no sign of Bud.
“He must be caught down there!” Bert exclaimed. “Come on, fellows!”
The Bobbsey Twins' Adventure in the Country Page 6