Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Thirty-Four
“It does seem peculiar that Ralph would be carrying a thermos
flask into the woods at this time of night,” Florence acknowledged. “Still,
he’s breaking no law by doing it.”
“I wonder what was in the bundle.” I opened the car door and
tugged at Florence’s hand.
“Come along!” I said. “We have to follow him.”
“Jane Carter, have you lost your mind? I’m staying right here. I
never heard of such a crazy thing! Just because he’s carrying a package and a
thermos flask—”
I didn’t bother arguing with Flo. Instead, I snatched the
flashlight I carried under the driver’s seat and started across the road toward
the woods. Florence hesitated, but not for long.
“Wait, Jane,” Flo called softly. “I’m coming.”
“Hurry, or we’ll lose him.”
In the dense woods, it was already quite dark, but far ahead, we
could see the bobbing beam of a flashlight focused on the ground as the man who
carried it walked along.
“Jane, I don’t know what’s in your mind,” Flo complained, as she
stumbled over a log, “but whatever it is, it’s a crazy idea!”
“Is it crazy to try to find Jack? Ralph may lead us straight to
him.”
“You believe Ralph took Jack a prisoner? It’s unbelievable!”
“That food is meant for someone. If Ralph weren’t up to something,
why would he come here at night?”
We were gaining on Ralph, so Flo kept quiet. Unaware that he was
being trailed, Ralph moved deeper into the forest. Once he paused as if to
listen. We flattened ourselves against tree trunks and waited, even though
Ralph could not possibly have seen us in the darkness. I had not illuminated my
flashlight.
Ralph was heading for the river, and in a few minutes more, we reached
a small tributary of the Grassy. Ralph walked along the banks for some
distance, coming to a cove that was heavily screened by overhanging bushes and
willow trees. Not until we had crept up very close did we distinguish the
outline of a houseboat.
Ralph whistled twice, and a shadowy figure appeared in the doorway
of the shanty boat. A lantern was lighted, and by its glow, I could observe the
other man. I recognized him as one of the three men who’d gotten out of the car
and walked past us the day Flo and I had hidden in the bushes outside the
laundry.
Ralph boarded the boat, still carrying the paper bundle and the
thermos flask.
We crept closer. The houseboat scraped the high bank as it
floated, and we were able to see into one of the windows. In the room which was
lighted, three men—the same three I’d seen that day from the bushes—sat at a
table eating food brought by Ralph. It was not what I’d expected to see. It
seemed that Ralph had not intended the contents of the bundle and the thermos
flask for a prisoner after all.
“It looks as if Ralph is just giving a few of his friends a
treat,” whispered Florence. “The joke is on you.”
Flo started to creep back up the bank, but I grabbed hold of her
ankle and held on tight.
“Look at the walls of that room, Flo!”
“What about them?”
“They are papered with sheets from a mail-order catalog!”
“That’s so.”
“And notice the porch.”
“Petunias growing in a flower box,” Florence observed.
“They’ve not been watered in quite some time—perhaps not since Mud
Cat Joe’s Empress disappeared.”
“You think this is his missing boat?”
“It certainly looks like it.”
“But all houseboats are similar,” Florence said. “Besides, this
one is painted blue, and Joe said The Empress was covered in tar paper.”
“What if it’s been painted to disguise its appearance?”
I guessed that we’d seen all there was to see, so I let Flo go,
and we quietly retreated from the banks of the stream. When we were a safe
distance away, we paused.
“I might be mistaken,” I said, “but this boat fits Mud Cat Joe’s
description of The Empress. We ought to notify him at once.”
“He’s received so many false clues already,” Florence protested,
“but I’m willing to go back if you wish.”
“Let’s hurry then before the boat vanishes again.”
Despite our haste, it took more than a half-hour to reach the
Gains cottage. Mud Cat Joe had just finished his supper when Bouncing Betsy
drove into the yard. He came outside to meet us.
“I’ll git right down there and have a look at ’er,” he said when
we told him what we’d seen.
“Perhaps we ought to go with you,” I said.
I suggested that he ride along in Bouncing Betsy, but he declined,
pointing out that unless we drove him all the way back, he would have no way of
getting home.
“I kin git down there almost as quick in the rowboat,” he insisted.
“Current’s runnin’ swift.”
Mud Cat launched the rowboat, Flo and I clambered aboard, and Joe
steered for the middle of the river. He bent to the oars, and we were soon
moving quickly.
I looked across the river at Old Mansion. A few lights glowed in the
windows. The house had a deceptive appearance of peace and tranquility.
The night was cold and penetrating. A breeze rippled the water and
sent a chill through Flo and me. We had neglected to bring wraps.
Coming at length to the tributary, Mud Cat Joe steered the boat
into the narrow stream. I knew we must be drawing close to the cove where we
had seen the houseboat.
We swung around a bend. I leaned forward and whispered to Joe,
“This was the place.”
“But there’s no houseboat here!” Florence said. “What in the world
became of it?”
I feared I might have been mistaken on the location, so I asked
Mud Cat to row farther up the stream, but it soon became obvious that it was
not that I had been mistaken. The boat had vanished.
“This ain’t the first time I’ve had a wild goose chase lookin’ fer
that houseboat,” Joe said. He was trying hard to be cheerful, but missing the
mark by a mile.
“But it was here an hour ago,” I said.
Mud Cat Joe headed the boat toward the Grassy River once more. It
would be a hard row back to the cottage where I’d parked Bouncing Betsy. It
might be midnight before we arrived home. As for Joe, he was worn out from his
long day on the river, and our failure to find his beloved houseboat seemed to
have depressed him. He rowed in gloomy silence.
When we reached the mouth of the tributary, Mud Cat steered out
into the main stream, setting his course at an angle across the Grassy.
Florence and I huddled together to protect ourselves from the wind. I had
fallen into a miserable drowsiness when there was an abrupt break in the smooth
rhythm of Mud Cat’s rowing.
I sat up. Joe stowed his oars and peered out across the dark,
swirling waters.
“Jest fer a minute, I thought I seen somethin’ in the water,” he
said. “Reckon it must have been a big fish.”
Florence stirred, and we all searched the rippled water for a
glimpse of whatever it was Mud Cat had seen. As we paused in the middle of the
stream, the current caught the boat and swung it sideways. I leaned over the
side of the boat. I’d seen something too.
“There is something struggling in the water! It’s surely too large
to be a—Joe, it’s a man!”
Next Episode
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