Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Thirty-Three
“Is a motorboat so unusual on a river?” Flo asked.
“No, Miss, it ain’t, but when the engine is muffled, there’s
usually a reason for it. I saw the boat three separate times. She was crusin’
around Old Mansion, and with no lights. I said to my husband, I says, ‘Chris,
there’s something mighty strange about the way that boat acts.’”
“When did you notice the motorboat?” I asked.
“I heard it last night ‘round midnight. The other two times was
quite a spell ago.”
The woman had no more of consequence to tell, so we thanked her
and headed up the river to the cottage. It was a decent place—certainly a great
improvement on the old shed the Gains family had just been forced to vacate—and
almost directly opposite Old Mansion.
“This should serve the Gains family nicely if only arrangements
can be made with the owner,” I said.
The owner lived in White Falls. I was pleased to find him a
reasonable and kind-hearted man. He knew Mud Cat Joe, and when he learned of
his plight, agreed that in return for certain repair work and a weekly mess of
fish, the Gains family might live in the cottage for the remainder of the
summer.
Before returning to tell Jennie Gains the good news, I called at
Old Mansion. Clarence Emerson chanced to be there, and I told him all the woman
had said regarding the motorboat.
“I’ll look into that angle,” he said, but in a tone which caused
me to think he did not consider the clue of great significance.
I did not bother to inquire if any progress had been made in the
case, for the detective’s general air of discouragement told the story.
After a hasty luncheon at Mr. Vhorst’s café, we returned to the
Gains shed. Mrs. Gains and her brood were jubilant when we told them about the
cottage, and Jed ran down to the river’s edge to signal his father. Soon Mud
Cat Joe rowed up to the landing.
“How we goin’ to git all our truck down to the cabin?” Jennie
asked.
“I can take everything in the car except livestock,” I said. “I’ll
have to make a couple of trips, though. Joe, I suggest you attach the raft to
your rowboat and tow the chickens, the goat and the pigs.”
“I dunno how that goat will ride,” Mud Cat said doubtfully. “But
we kin try ’er.”
After three trips, we’d transported Jennie, the younger children,
and all their worldly goods back to the cottage. Soon after, Mud Cat Joe, his
son Jed, and the strange floating zoo reached the riverbank near the cottage,
with the goat still aboard, albeit in a fighting mood.
“This sure is a nice little lean-to,” Mud Cat said, surveying his
new domain. “The roof I kin fix up with a few shingles, and the walls ain’t got
many chinks. It’s a lot better than livin’ in a cowshed.”
“It’s a right purty little house,” Jennie said. “It’s got runnin’
water and a sink. I never had nothin’ like that before, even on The Empress.
But we won’t be up to payin’ no water bills.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’ve taken care of all
those things.”
“I don’t see how we kin ever pay you back,” said the shanty
boatman.
“You have paid me already.”
I glanced at the riverman’s horny right hand, which had been
blistered from steady rowing. I knew he had been faithfully searching for Jack
since daylight.
“I done a right smart chore of rowin’,” Joe said. “One of them
oars was rough, and then draggin’ ain’t no fun.”
“Mr. Gains,” I said, “there’s something else you could do for me
if you are willing. I wish you would keep watch of Old Mansion, especially at
night. If you see anything unusual or suspicious, notify me or Detective
Emerson.”
Mud Cat Joe nodded.
“Tomorrow I’ll git on with the draggin’ agin,” he said, following
Flo and I to Bouncing Betsy. “But I figgers I’d a found that body long before
this if I was a-goin’ to.”
The sun was sinking low as we crossed the bridge and entered White
Falls.
“We should be starting home,” Florence said. “It’s going to be
dark soon.”
“I know the road by heart, so there’s no danger we’ll get lost,” I
said, switching on the headlights.
We traveled five miles or so in the gathering dusk.
“Does it seem to you that we’re bumping more than usual?” I asked
Flo.
“It feels like we have a flat tire.”
I pulled up at the side of the road and got out to have a look at
the tires. To my relief, they were all sound. However, Bouncing Betsy’s tail
lights didn’t seem to be burning.
“Is the switch turned on all the way, Flo?” I called.
Flo turned the button but only succeeded in extinguishing the
headlights. At that moment, another car came around the bend. Before Florence
could switch on the headlights again, the car drew up at the side of the road
some distance away. A man got out and took a large bundle and a thermos flask
from the rear of his car.
I rushed to the front of the car.
“Never mind those lights,” I whispered. “Leave them off.”
Flo just nodded and continued staring at the man who had exited
the parked car. Taking the paper-wrapped bundle and the thermos flask, the man
disappeared into the woods.
“You know who that was, Flo?
“No, how could I see his face at this distance?”
“Well, I did!” I said. “I caught a glimpse of it as he stood for a
moment in the headlight beam. The man was Ralph, Flo! You remember Ralph from
the laundry. The Sheik. What I wouldn’t give to learn where he’s taking that
thermos flask!”
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