Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Twenty-Two
“Hello, operator!” I said urgently. “I’ve been disconnected from
my party.”
“There is no one on the line now,” the operator said. “Shall I
ring again?”
“Please.”
After a long wait, the operator reported that she was unable to
reestablish the connection. I hung up the receiver, turned to my father, and
repeated Emma’s strange message.
“Dad, something is wrong out there!”
“It does seem odd she would refuse to talk.”
“Mr. Harwood must have arrived yesterday, for she mentioned his
name just as she was cut off. I suppose Mrs. Conrad may have been listening to
the conversation, but even that doesn’t account for what she said: ‘Dreadful
things go on here!’”
“Is the girl inclined to be hysterical?”
“Well, she is easily excited,” I admitted. “Still, I’m worried.”
“Why not drive over to White Falls if it will ease your mind? But
don’t go alone, wait a couple of hours and Jack can ride along with you.”
“I’d prefer to start right away,” I said. “Probably Florence will
be willing to go with me.”
I lost no time in telephoning Flo, and she agreed to the trip.
Florence had told her mother about the Gains family, and Mrs. Radcliff insisted
upon sending a box of clothing and groceries with us. I was quite willing to
stop at the shed where Mud Cat and his brood had taken refuge, but I regretted
the delay.
“Let’s make it as brief as possible,” I told Florence, as the car
drew near the Grassy River. “I’m terribly anxious to see Emma.”
When we halted in front of the shed, there was no activity about
the place.
“Maybe the Gains family has left,” said Florence.
“I’m sure they are around somewhere,” I said.
A line of shirts flapped in the wind between two trees. They had
very little in the way of clothes. They wouldn’t have taken off without their
laundry.
I tried the horn.
At the sound of Bouncing Betsy’s staccato summons, the Gains
family came to life. Jennie and Jed peered around the corner of the shed, while
Mud Cat Joe ambled into sight from the direction of the river.
“Well, if it ain’t our young lady friends,” he said. “Jennie! Come on out here! I allows this is
a-goin’ to be good news.”
“We have a basket of things for you,” I said. “It’s in the rear
compartment. Just a few little knick-knacks we thought you might like.”
Flo stepped from the car and started to get the basket.
“Now then, young lady, don’t you go an’ break your back a liftin’
that,” said Mud Cat. “Let me heft it out of there for you.”
Punctuating his words with action, he moved to the rear of the
car.
“She’s purty heavy, Jennie,” he said, weighing the basket up and
down in his hand. “There’s a lot of store grub here.”
“Thank you kindly,” said Jennie. “We sure get tired o’ catfish day
in and out.”
“We brought a box of clothing too,” Florence said.
Mud Cat lifted out the box and gazed at it with delight.
“Look at that there sweater, Jed!” he said. “Now you kin keep warm
this winter. You and the young ’uns. It ain’t a goin’ to be so shivery like it
was last year.”
“Thank you,” Jed said bashfully. Then, to further manifest his
appreciation, the boy offered to show us his most prized possession, his dog.
“Tige’s tied up by the river,” Jed explained. “He’s kind of mean
with strangers, but he’s sure a great dog.”
I wanted to get back on the road, but I hated to disappoint the
boy, so Flo and I followed him around the shed. Mud Cat Joe and his wife
carried the groceries and clothing into the shelter and then followed us down
to the river’s edge.
“This here is Tige,” Jed said proudly, unfastening the dog from
the willow tree to which he had been tied. “He’s half shepherd and half English
bull.”
“What a mixture,” Flo said.
“And that’s our raft of chickens,” Jed announced, pointing to a
flat craft likewise tied to the willow tree. “It used to ride along behind The
Empress.”
I asked Mud Cat if he had any new clues as to what had become of
his missing houseboat.
“No, Mrs. Carter, nary a trace,” Joe replied. “I asked as fer down
the river as Newport, but folks sez they ain’t never seen ’er. I got a sneakin’
idea them skunks that stole ’er has done gone and sent ’er to the bottom of the
river.”
“What good would that do them?” I asked.
“Maybe they stripped her first and then allowed as how they was in
a risky business and might get caught. So they just let the river into her.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Florence. “I feel somehow that you will
recover your houseboat.”
Before Mud Cat Joe could reply, another car drove into the yard. A
man got out and ran toward us. It was Glen Conrad. Mr. Conrad seemed oblivious
to Flo and me. He addressed himself exclusively to the Gains family as a unit.
“What are you doing on my property?” he shouted.
“I don’t know who you are, stranger,” said Mud Cat Joe, “but I
might tell you I ain’t used to havin’ nobody talk to me in them tones.”
“Answer my questions,” Mr. Conrad snapped. “Who gave you the right
to occupy these premises?”
“The right any river man has to live in any vacant buildin’ that
suits his fancy. And listen, stranger, I’m givin’ you just five minutes to get out.”
“What! You order me off my own property!”
“I sure do, if it is your property.”
Mud Cat tossed his tattered hat on the ground and deliberately
rolled up his sleeves. I wondered if Mr. Conrad even owned this property. I
guessed that he didn’t. But how he might think to profit by bullying the Gains
family, I couldn’t imagine.
“Mr. Conrad,” I said. “I know this family personally. They have
had a great deal of misfortune since their houseboat was lost. If you force
them from this shed, they’ll have no other place to go.”
“You keep out of this,” Mr. Conrad appeared for the first time to
recognize me. “These dirty squatters are moving, and that’s all there is to
it!”
“We’re not a-gettin’ out,” Mud Cat announced.
“I’ll show you!” shouted Glen Conrad. “Those squawking chickens
are moving downstream right now!”
Drawing a knife from his pocket, he ran to the raft and started
hacking at the rope. Before it could be severed, Jed unhooked the leash of his
dog and urged: “Get ’im, Tige!”
The dog made a savage dart at Glen Conrad, who, in sudden terror,
dropped the knife.
“Look out, stranger,” chuckled Mud Cat Joe. “That there dog is
pure pizen!”
Glen Conrad tried to retreat toward his automobile, but the dog
stopped him. The badgered man had only one direction to go—toward the river. He
took a step backward, shouting to Jed and Joe to call off their dog, or he
would have the law on them.
As the man hesitated at the edge of the bank, Tige made another
savage rush. He struck hard against Glen Conrad’s legs, toppling him into the
raft of chickens. There was a wild fury of feathered panic as the fowl flew in
all directions. Glen tried desperately to save himself, but the raft gave a
sudden lurch under his weight, and with a great splash he pitched into the
muddy waters of the Grassy.
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